Chapter 28

Even the most hardened of criminals crack faster when they're nude. Clothing provides a false sense of security, like they're more protected than they truly are.

It's an armor of sorts.

Strip it away, and you begin to see who has fortitude.

Perusing my medical cabinet, I weigh the pros and cons of my options. Knocking them out again would give me time now to be at Laken's side, but if I get our introductory meeting out of the way and establish the rules now, I'll be able to be with her later.

"This is quite the setup," Locke says, closing the shackle around his cousin's throat.

It was a nice gesture for him to bring a gift, but I'm not easily won over.

However, it will be an excellent way for me to burn off some of the anger that comes from feeling so out of control.

I glance farther down at spot number three. It's very difficult not to stomp over there and break the cheating piece of shit's neck. It would be quite satisfying, at least until Laken realized.

I'm not sure she would sanction me murdering her sperm donor, and it's making me grumpy. I'm not used to having to assuage to the desires of others.

I sigh, selecting a mild hallucinogenic.

Starting small is important.

They'll eventually build a tolerance, which is unfortunate, because I enjoy the mental aspects far more than physical torture in most cases.

One small dose of the vial in my hand, and their minds will begin to conjure their own delusions.

One of my favorite activities is simply pulling up a chair and watching as they imagine far worse monsters than me.

I do love a good experiment.

Unless they're exceptionally mentally weak, they'll need time to stew in the misery before they're ready to speak. Questioning them before then would be a waste of time for both of us.

And I have no time to spare at the moment. My omega is inside, likely feeling as though her world is falling apart all over again.

I grab two syringes and a vial of adrenaline.

Combining hallucinogenics and uppers certainly does have quite the effect on the human mind.

"Excuse me," I say to Locke, who studies his cousin slumped against the wall.

He steps back. "Need any assistance?"

"No, but you can grab one of the buckets in the cabinets to the left of the door. They're under the bottom set."

He heads off, and I handle Braxton. He begins to rouse and attempts to fall forward. The chain linked to the collar around his neck keeps him from face-planting into the concrete floor.

I step over the drain in the floor for bay one and aim for number three, closing the door to Braxton's cell without bothering to lock it.

Spots three and four share a prison toilet that's located between the two.

Number five is an upgrade from either of those two, as it has an actual half wall blocking its toilet from view. It's a reward system with my guests hoping to behave well enough that they earn their way to number five. Likewise, with bad behavior, they can move closer to number one.

I grab the cell door to number three and step inside. William is shackled by his left wrist and ankle. If he was in four, it would be his right side, so he could access the toilet. I gain no joy in forcing some of my inhabitants to use buckets, but it's another layer of mental anguish that helps to break them.

"The bucket is for Braxton, I'm guessing?" Locke asks with a cheerful lilt to his tone.

"Yes," I agree, preparing to give Will his first injection.

"Do you buy new buckets for each prisoner?" Locke asks.

"I'm certainly not going to clean and reuse them." I actually shudder at the thought and move to the second vial. Once that's handled, I rip the bag off Will's head and give him a gentle kick in the thigh.

He begins to stir, and I leave his cell.

I return the vials to the medicine cabinet and toss the needles in the sharps container.

After grabbing the keys to lock their cells, I move toward Braxton's first.

"Good afternoon. You've been given a bucket for your waste. I suggest you use it. You won't be pleased with the cleanup process if you fail to comply." I finish locking his door and move to Will's. "You have access to the toilet to your left. I also recommend using it. You have twelve hours to parcel out what you've done to earn your place here. Be honest with yourself about your sins and things will go more smoothly for you. I'll be back soon." I step back from Will's door and give it a solid shake before glancing over my shoulder at Locke. "Shall we go?"

He's got his long hair tied up in a bun that makes him seem slightly more ridiculous than he did upon our first meeting. "That was kinda underwhelming."

"It's a process," I say, heading to the surround sound.

The settings are pre-saved in playlists, from optimal misery to simply high frequencies that tend to stress the nervous system.

This is a long-game tactic.

I select one that alternates between heavy metal and classic ballads from the 1920s. It's genuinely awful to listen to for any prolonged period.

Locke jolts as the screaming metal starts through the speakers. "Jesus Christ," he mutters, making a break for the stairs.

I watch him carefully as I follow him out.

There's something about him that sets off my radar; I'm just unsure what it is or what my instincts are trying to tell me.

It seems like, maybe, he's a bit like me and just better at masking than I am.

Experience tells me that being a sociopath doesn't necessarily mean that he's incapable of having morals and even basic emotions. There's no doubt in my mind that I experience a wide range of emotions, although mine tend to bounce between intrigue and anger.

I'm unsure if I'm able to truly love someone. I feel affection for Sparrow and even little Aurora, my goddaughter. That's more of a fondness, though.

Romantic love seems like an entirely different animal, but I'm interested to see if I'm capable of it. I know I'm capable of possessiveness and protectiveness. I won't stand for someone hurting what's mine. I also feel a fair amount of obsession when I find something that interests me, which Laken most certainly does.

Oh well, if Locke becomes a problem, I can dispatch him easily enough. And until Laken either gets over her interest in him, or he decides he doesn't want to be part of a pack, that will have to do.

"Make sure you stop in the sanitation room," I growl as he makes it to the top of the stairs. "It's the one on the right. Your jumpsuit and booties need to be disposed of in the mini-incinerator."

"You're fully prepared." Locke chuckles. "No problem. I'm not trying to track biological evidence all over your home."

I'm running out of available rooms, but I show Locke to the bedroom Kate and her pack occupied. They spilled over to using two rooms when Ramirez joined them, but Locke only needs one.

"The fridge should be stocked, but don't touch the takeout," I mumble.

Hopefully, Tanner had the presence of mind to encourage Laken to eat something.

It might be time to look into a full-time chef. Cooper Garza's mother cooks over at the Assurance compound, but even if my mother were alive, that's something she wouldn't have been caught dead doing.

I make a brief call to Cooper, asking that he gently pressure his brother into finding room for Laken on his schedule tomorrow.

This leads to a three-and-a-half-minute lecture from Vale about whether I've let Laken talk to her sister.

Reiterating the tidbit of information that Lyra is in rehab, and that they don't allow conversations with family members for thirty days, does not stop Vale's two-hundred-and-ten seconds of chastisement that I could make it happen if I tried.

"...you call and explain the circumstances, anyway," Vale huffs in my ear. "It will be good for Laken and likely do Lyra some good to hear from her sister firsthand?—"

"Vale?"

"Yes?"

"I'm hanging up now. Ensure Dr. Garza finds time on his schedule for Laken tomorrow."

"I'll put Marina on the job." Vale laughs. "No man wants to tell his mother no."

I pull the phone away to hang up and frown.

"Thank you," I add before disconnecting.

My next call is to Merrick, the tech guy for Assurance. He seems preoccupied, but I know he's expecting twin daughters sometime this month.

"How is Keeley?" I ask, trying to mimic actually caring.

I don't know what the hell I'm doing, but the first question Cooper asked when I called him was about how Laken is doing, so I believe it might be socially acceptable to ask about a loved one when calling a coworker.

I lose just shy of four minutes, listening to him ramble about her swollen face and lower extremities, but he doesn't seem as angry with me as he normally is when I politely veer the conversation to my needs.

"I need you to overnight me a phone that I can give Laken. She's been severely isolated, and I need to make an effort to fix that," I say, taking the stairs to the second floor. "Maybe one with child settings? I'm not sure. She should be able to call me and a select few other numbers?—"

"She's a grown-ass woman, Ranger," Merrick says with what I believe is disdain lining his tone.

"Yes, but she's also hormonal and making choices that could put her in danger. I'm trying to compromise here," I snarl, suddenly irrationally angry. Even when I make an effort, others still make it seem like I'm in the wrong. It's maddening. "I've already had one unexpected love interest of hers show up at my doorstep. I'm not about to risk a second or third."

"Wait, what?" Merrick snorts.

"Overnight a smartphone. She can have access to most websites, outside of her previous social media—for obvious reasons—but I'll explain that myself." I move to hang up and mutter another quick, "Thank you. You're welcome for saying thank you and asking about your omega. Goodbye."

Jesus Christ.

Being cordial is exhausting.

When I make it into the nest Laken is awake and resting on Tanner's chest as he sleeps. I crawl up beside her, brushing her hair away from her face.

"How are you feeling?" I whisper, tracing the now-healing cut on her cheek.

"Like I royally fucked over so many people, it's not even funny," she says softly. "Did Locke leave? I wouldn't blame him if he did. I don't know how I'm supposed to face him after all this."

"He insisted upon being given a room," I say, only minorly stretching the truth. "He wouldn't be dismissed, and he had the gall to stage an ambush with the intention of stealing you away from me." I lean in, kissing the apple of her cheek just above the scratch. "No one with any intelligence would push my goodwill that far, unless it was for someone they truly care about."

"That was before I found out?—"

"You forget alpha systems work differently than betas. We grow up knowing we'll be part of a pack. DNA isn't important to us. We often end up raising children that aren't biologically our own. Locke understands that." I catch her eyes, giving her a reassuring smile.

Although, I don't know why I'm sticking up for the man.

I believe it's ultimately not about Locke at all. It's about giving my omega the reassurance and support I know her system craves.

"So, if everything is healthy and I did choose to keep the baby?—"

"It wouldn't bother me in the least." It's not a mistruth to coddle her feelings, either. I may not be good at sharing my emotions, but there's one thing I'm excellent at. I'm obsessively protective of things I view as mine, and my system already views the baby as such, since it's an extension of Laken. "When Vale met Bishop, Mercy, and Holt, she was heavily pregnant. They forged bonds and fell for her and the baby."

"That's crazy," Laken whispers.

"I will be at your side to support you every step of the way if you choose to have the baby, but I also respect your right to decide how you proceed. That choice is yours to make."

"I honestly don't know what I'm thinking or feeling at the moment. Well, outside of shock, but I hope you know how much I appreciate you, Ranger."

My mind screams that now is my chance to continue comforting her and showing her I can provide her with physical care.

"Would you take a shower with me?" I ask with an unnaturally giddy excitement bouncing around my chest. "Your scent is acrid, and it's setting off my instincts. If not, I might find my way back to the basement to end your pathetic, waste-of-space ex."

"You're so manipulative at times," she says, but the smile on her face is at odds with her words. "And I'm screwed up because all I can focus on is how romantic it is that you're leveraging Will's life for shower sex."

My eyebrows rise. "I didn't realize shower sex was an option, but I'll take it."

"God, you're so cute," she whispers, crawling off Tanner's chest.

My chest puffs up with pride.

I am cute, but I like that she recognizes that I am.