Alpha
Page 88

 Rachel Vincent

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“Three cars,” I said, when I was sure I had everyone’s attention, struggling to focus through encompassing pain. “Marc and I will go with Jace. Vic, you take Owen and my mom. Protect her with your life.”
Vic almost looked insulted. “As if it were in doubt.”
I nodded, pleased. “Parker, take Brian and the doc. We stay together on the road, stay in touch via cell, and don’t stop until we get to the free zone border. Understood?”
Everyone nodded, and I took a deep breath, then met my mother’s gaze. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, but I swear I will fix this. We will fix this.”
“Yes.” She nodded firmly. “We will.”
By then, the usurpers knew we were leaving, and they were buzzing with vicious excitement, eager to descend on the spoils of Kent and Dean’s war. When I opened the front door, dozens of eyes watched me.
I ignored them all. I limped across the porch and down the steps staring straight ahead, pretending I didn’t hear them. I was almost to Marc’s car when Kenton Pierce stepped into my path.
“You know you don’t have to go.”
I tried to ignore him, but he wouldn’t move, and I wasn’t going to walk around him. “I’m not broken,” I growled through jaws clenched shut. “I can and will drop you like bad cell service.” Even if it nearly killed me.
Kent frowned. “I’m just saying you’d be safe here. I swear no one will touch you.”
“If I thought you actually had the power to guarantee that, I might… No, I wouldn’t.” I could hear disgust dripping from my voice. “Enjoy it while it lasts.”
“Fine, if that’s the way you want it.” His face flushed—I’d embarrassed him. “But you know that if you won’t stay and eventually accept me, we’ll have to go get either Manx or Kaci. You’re not leaving us much of a choice.” Because without a dam, there could be no permanent Alpha.
“We won’t let you take them.” In fact, we’d die defending them.
Kent nodded stiffly, then glanced at Malone, and his next words sounded rehearsed. “If you, Marc Ramos, or Jace Hammond set foot in this territory without permission again, you’ll be rearrested and tried on the outstanding charges.”
I ignored the threat and walked on, tensing the closer we drew to Dean. Marc stiffened on my left, and I knew he wanted to put himself between me and Dean. But he didn’t, and I had enormous respect for his self-control.
Dean crowded us on purpose, standing as close to the car as he could without actually touching it. When I opened the door, he leaned close. “I’m ready to finish the job whenever you are…” he whispered.
I dropped my suitcase and he lurched away from my right fist—and directly into the path of my left.
Dean stumbled back, one hand over his jaw. But he came up laughing, while I struggled not to show how much the blow had hurt my ribs and my shoulder.
The guys loaded the luggage, and as Vic held the door open for my mother, Malone approached her with his hand out, like he’d shake hers. Like they were sharing an amiable parting. “I’m sorry about the trouble, Karen,” he said, loud and clear, so everyone could hear how reasonable he was being.
She scowled up at him, eyes narrowed. Her arm flew almost faster than I could see. The smack of flesh against flesh was loud in the silence, and a small red handprint stood out starkly on his left cheek. “You have no idea how sorry you’re going to be.”
Twenty-four
I lay across Jace’s backseat in the rapidly descending darkness, my head on a pillow, but they wouldn’t let me sleep for long, because I’d lost consciousness—twice—and my pupils were dilated. Or not dilated. Whichever is bad after a head injury. Marc kept his window open at the top so the cold air would help keep me awake, and he kept checking on me. Talking to me.
But I didn’t want to talk. I wanted to sleep. And I really wanted to punch something, but that train had already left the station and I wasn’t on it. Evidently I’d been fucking hit by it.
“Faythe, it really is going to be okay, one way or another,” Jace said, and I wished I could see him, but the rearview mirror was out of my line of sight.
“I know.” But not anytime soon. “When can I Shift? What did the doc say?”
“He didn’t. And I’m assuming that means not yet.” Marc twisted in the front passenger seat to face me again, but I could hardly stand to look at him. I’d lost. I’d been humiliated, dominated, beaten, and nearly killed. And I’d let them down. All of them. All my men. Kaci. My mother. And my father. Somehow, knowing I’d failed him hurt the worst. Even worse than my head.
“You want some more Tylenol?” Jace asked, and leather creaked as he shifted in the driver’s seat. “You can’t have anything stronger yet—nothing that will knock you out—but we have plenty of Tylenol.”
“No, thanks.” The pain was unbelievable, and as impossible as it seemed, I literally hurt everywhere. Even in my fingers. The incessant roar in my head was the worst, but my ribs and face took a close second place. But physical pain couldn’t compare to the knowledge that I’d lost the Pride. The whole damn thing. Now Malone’s puppet regime had settled into my father’s house. They would sleep in my parents’ room, go through our things, and generally rub salt into the open wound that my very existence had become.