We’re waiting in our respective spots for what feels like fuckin’ forever. That’s until I see the approaching headlights. It’s gonna be super fucked up if this isn’t them. But I quickly place the spike strip in place and tuck away in some bushes, waiting patiently.
It’s so dark out that they don’t see the strip, and we get lucky as the van swerves, each tire losing air. There are two quick pops of Tate’s gun before the van smacks loudly into a tree. The engine hisses and smoke is funneling wildly out of the hood. Tate’s one of the best with his aim. The driver and passenger are dead or at least severely wounded based on how many shots he fired and the vehicle hitting the tree. We’re all careful with our movements, weapons drawn as we surround the vehicle.
I’m walking towards the back, ready to open up the back doors, while Tate takes the front and Cash takes the side. There’s another pop, and Cash raises his voice so we can hear.
“Took the last one out. There were only three,” he announces as he looks in the driver’s side window.
Once Tate confirms by feelin’ the pulses of the Wraiths he just killed, they both round the vehicle and stand next to me as I open the back door. I’m not sure what I expected, but gettin’ fuckin’ kicked in the chest, wasn’t it. It throws me off kilter, and Cash raises his gun.
“Don’t shoot, fuck. They’re Omegas,” Tate scolds.
The man who just kicked me has his arms raised, ready to fight as he shields the other Omega behind him. She’s small,blonde, and curled up in fear. It’s the one thing that helps me not kill the asshole.
“Fuck off,” the male Omega growls.
He’s not a large man, but he isn’t tiny by any means either. He’s probably a few inches shorter than me and leaner. His hair is dark and shaggy, hanging in his face as he narrows his eyes at me, ready to kill me. It makes me smile warmly, even though my chest aches.
“We’re trying to help you, you fuckin’ dick,” I complain, rubbing my chest.
“How do we know we can trust you? You could be just as bad as these fuckin’ assholes?” he replies, and well, he’s got me there.
I look over to Tate who shrugs his shoulders, and Cash sighs.
“Listen, we’re happy to just let you go. But that won’t stop these pricks from finding you again. So you have two choices. We can take you somewhere safe and offer you protection, or you can fuck off to wherever you came from,” Cash says, his tone is kind but isn’t as sweet like when he talks to Lily, and I know she would appreciate it.
Honestly, I could definitely see Lily being overly possessive of her pack. The thought makes me smile, and I hope we can get this moving faster so I can get back to the compound and whisk her away.
The male Omega looks back to the woman behind him and sighs. “Fine, we’ll go with you.”
The woman is quiet but agrees with her companion. Cash holds out a hand to help him out of the cab, but the Omega scoffs at it and jumps down, only to help the female Omega get down safely.
“Got a name?” I ask him. He looks down at my chest, and I notice a small smirk on his face.
“I’m Mason, and this is my cousin Quinn.”
The small woman tucks into her cousin’s side, her dirty blonde hair covering her face. Mason holds her tight and protectively. Besides the Chuck Norris kick to the chest, the way he is taking care of his family adds another point in his favor in my book.
“I’m Axel, that’s Tate, and that’s Cash,” I introduce, hoping to put them at ease.
Mason looks us up and down, and it’s like something clicks in his head.
“We’re not the only ones they’ve taken, you planning on doin’ somethin’ about that shit?” he asks, but he doesn’t look at me, he looks at Tate.
“Yeah, we’re doin’ somethin’ about it,” he replies, and both Cash and I nod our heads.
I knew the Wraiths were the worst of the worst, but abducting Omegas and doing God knows fuckin’ what with them? It makes my stomach sick. Especially as I look down at the small female Omega, I’m not even sure she’s of age.
“What now?” I ask, lookin’ at Tate.
I still need to get home and move forward with my plans with Lily. Hell, even if I’m not a part of the Dead Palms anymore, I can’t leave without this being resolved. When I look over at Tate’s hard glare at the Wraiths van it’s clear he’s thinking the same.
“We take them to the warehouse. I’ll be there, layin’ low. You two go back to the compound and act like this shit never happened.”
“I thought the whole point of this was so the Wraiths knew this was us?” I question.
“Oh, they’ll fuckin’ know,” Tate promises as he shuts the back door of the Wraith’s van. His knife is already in his palm as he drags it across the paint of the vehicle. The message is clear, even if it looks like shit.
Carved in very shaky letters isDPMC.
