Chapter 20 - Ado

“Glad you had the card for the team account,” Byron says in my mind, breaking the silence. And then, “Ado, shit, man. I’m so sorry.”

I ignore him. I can’t tolerate this right now.

Not with Keira weeping softly in my arms, face pressed to my shoulder as if she can’t stand to look me in the eye.

Each of her sobs twists the knife in my heart that landed there the moment I saw her up on that stage. I shoulder out of the back door of Border Ridge House, sparing an absentminded nod to the security guard who verifies that my payment has gone through—my payment. The thought of it makes me feel like I’m going to throw up in my mouth.

On the perfectly manicured back lawn, hard white lights perched on the roof of the building stretch my shadow far ahead of us. I hold Keira tighter and keep moving through the trees, my feet carrying us toward where I know the hidden vans are parked deep in the woods, ready for her.

Every step feels like an entire lifetime’s effort. The distant echo of the auction hall still lingers in my ears—the applause, the jeers, the horrific chants that fueled the nightmare we just walked out of. The men are getting drunker and drunker. There will be more women. There will be no other slaves freed tonight.

I blink hard, and there’s only the crunch of leaves under my boots, the heavy scent of pine and damp earth in the air, and Keira’s silent tears soaking into my shirt.

She’s so light in my arms, but it feels like I’m carrying the weight of the world. Every breath she takes, every tremble that runs through her, reminds me of what just happened. What I put her through.

Somewhere in the distance, I hear the low rumble of a vehicle—one of ours, idling to draw my attention. Waiting to take us home.

The pack has been silent in my mind since I carried Keira off stage. Rafael and Percy’s presence linger nearby. I can tell they’re not far off. They’ll stagger their exits. Maybe they’ll have valuable information. The mission seems so stupid now, like we planned for it in another life.

Right now, all that matters is getting Keira to safety.

“Almost there,” I murmur.

I glance down at her, hoping for some kind of response, but she doesn’t acknowledge me. Her face stays hidden; her body curled into itself like she’s trying to disappear.

“Keira,” I say softly, my throat tightening around her name. I don’t even know where to start.

She doesn’t respond. She stays silent, her breathing shallow, her hands gripping the fabric of my shirt like it’s the only thing anchoring her to this world.

“I’m sorry,” I try again, the words falling from my lips like stones. “I didn’t want it to be like this. I didn’t—”

“Stop. Just… stop.”

Keira’s voice is quiet, barely above a whisper, but it cuts through me all the same.

I fall silent. My steps falter, but I don’t stop.

The trees begin to thin out, and I glimpse one van’s dimmed headlights washing through the darkness. There’s no relief. Exhaustion peers out through the cloud of dread. I could sleep for a week if I wasn’t so full of adrenaline.

As we approach the van, the back doors swing open, and Bigby hops out, his face a mixture of relief and concern.

He reaches for Keira, but I hold her tighter, unwilling to let go.

Maisie appears behind Bigby, seeming to materialize out of the darkness. There’s a look on his face I have never seen there before.

“We’ve set up a mattress inside,” she says gravely. “Lay her down.”

I nod, but I can’t bring myself to move just yet. Keira shifts in my arms, and I feel her eyes on me. I look down, desperate to meet her gaze, to see something—anything—that will tell me I didn’t just lose her completely.

But when our eyes finally meet, all I see is distance. A vast, unbridgeable chasm between us. Her expression is closed off, her walls back up, stronger than ever. She doesn’t trust me. Maybe she never did.

“Put me down,” she says quietly, her voice steady despite everything. “I can walk.”

I hesitate, but the look she gives me leaves no room for argument. Slowly, reluctantly, I lower her to the ground, my arms aching more now than when I was carrying her.

Blinding pain shoots through my chest when our bodies part. I almost gasped out loud, palming my chest, trying to remember what it was like to breathe when I could still do it.

Does Keira feel that too?

I squint at her. She sways momentarily, unsteady on her feet, but she doesn’t reach out for me. She doesn’t even glance in my direction as she makes her way to the van, climbing in without a word.

I watch her go, guts squirming. I feel so violently unwell that I worry for a moment that something is seriously wrong. I feel like a tuning fork. The force of connection oscillates back through my body like a spring released, and I look down at my hands and see that they’re shaking.

Bigby rounds the van to slip into the driver’s seat. “You need to take the Aston back to Rosecreek. Cover our tracks.”

I nod. Maisie is still clambering into the back. I see her hand on her hip, where a hefty first-aid kit is strapped.

The van door closes behind her—behind Keira—and I watch the vehicle as it pulls away down the narrow, forested path down the mountainside.

***

Dawn has yet to show over the mountains as I pull back into the pack center’s lot. It’s almost four in the morning now.

It’s deadly quiet, not a car in sight. Soon, the vans will be here, parked in a staggered formation. The team is clearly exhausted but relieved to be home after everyone’s ordeal. But we all took differentiated routes to one another, and I happened to arrive first.

I open the window of the Aston Martin to feel the cool night air on my face. Through the screech of cicadas, cars rumble distantly on the highway.

“Fuck,” I whisper. “What did I do?”

I wonder whether I can try to feel for Keira in my mind now that we’re bonded. I think of her face as I held her and decide not to try.

Soon, two vans pull up, coming from either direction up Rosecreek’s only two-lane road. Bigby’s and Zane’s.

I step out and cross the lot as everyone files out, movements slow and muted, weighed down by what we’ve just experienced.

Keira is rushed inside—in the glow of the motion-activated lights of the pack center’s entrance, I see her stumbling between Maisie and Veronica, their faces tight with concern as they help her out of the van and into the med bay. I watch her go, feeling the distance between us grow with every step she takes away from me.

I have learned remarkably quickly in the last couple of hours that I can no longer close my eyes. Whenever I do, when I even blink, I see Keira on that stage, her eyes wide with terror, trembling like a leaf. I could almost hear the rabbit-fast patter of her heart.

Rosa’s van pulls up, followed by the other two exotic sports cars. The women make their way tiredly inside while Percy and Rafael linger awkwardly near me, clearly not sure what to say to me or each other.

Beneath the night sky, nobody knows how to approach what happened. Aris calls us to the debriefing room.

I follow him silently, barely registering the conversations around me. Percy and Rafael are soon deep in discussion, their voices low and serious as they go over the details of what they learned during the infiltration. Byron walks at the back, scrolling through the data on his tablet. Bigby lowered his head to hear something Aris was saying ahead of me, listening intently.

We file into the meeting room. The lights are turned up too high. I sit down at the table, but I can’t focus.

Everyone begins speaking at once, but voices fade into the background, nothing more than a dull hum in my ears. All I can think about is Keira. Is she okay? What are they saying to her in the med bay? Is she hurt worse than she let on?

“…Ado?”

Aris’s voice cuts through the fog in my mind, bringing me back to the present. I blink, realizing that everyone’s looking at me, waiting for something.

“What?” I say, my voice rougher than I intend.

Aris frowns, concern flickering across his face. “You zoned out. I was asking if you had anything to add about the buyers. Did you get a good look at any of them?”

I take a deep breath, forcing myself to focus. He expects me to stay professional because I always do. He’ll allow me to reel, to mourn, but only once the debrief is finished.

The mission isn’t over until it’s over. We all learned that in the military.

“Yeah,” I say slowly, trying to recall the details I should have been cataloging. “A few. The Frenchmen in the back corner… in the few snippets of English I heard, they were talking about moving shipments up the coast. Seemed like they were into weapons. And the guy in the red suit in the row in front of me, the one who left early, was definitely with the cartel and is a shifter. Southwest.”

Aris nods, jotting down notes as Percy and Rafael continue to fill in the blanks. But I can’t shake the feeling that I’m not really here.

Percy finishes his final report, and there’s a heavy silence in the room. Aris leans back in his chair, running a hand through his hair.

“There will be more to analyze and report on tomorrow,” he warns. “We need to review all footage, audio, and Ado… well.” He clears his throat. “Anyway. Good work, everyone. We gathered enough intel to keep us busy for a while. We’ll start sorting through it all in the morning.”

Everyone disperses. Percy, Byron, and Bigby all stand up to go find their mates, while Rafael stretches, yawning exaggeratedly, and pads like a cat toward his room, probably preferring to sleep on all this new information than to process it now.

Aris’ hands are still spread on the table before him. Before me. I look up and he’s staring me in the face.

“Ado, are you—”

“I’m fine,” I cut him off, standing up too quickly. “I need to check on Keira.”

Aris nods slowly. “We’ll talk about it another time,” he says.

I make for the door, but his voice stops me again, and I turn over my shoulder.

“Give her some time,” he intones.

I leave the room without another word. The hallways are quiet, and the soft hum of the overhead lights is the only sound. Someone must have cleaned recently, because the tiled floors shine like brand new.

My footsteps echo in the silence, each one bringing me closer to Keira.

When I reach the med bay, I hesitate outside the door. My hand hovers over the doorknob.

I hear soft footsteps approaching from inside. The door creaks open before I can turn the handle, and Olivia stands in the doorway, her eyes piercing yet kind, pink hair raked back into a messy knot. She closes the door behind her quietly, slipping into the hallway.

“Ado,” she says, her voice gentle but firm. “Keira needs some time.”

I swallow hard, her words sinking into my chest like pushpins. “I just need to see her. Make sure she’s okay.” I feel like a child, even as I say it.

Olivia shakes her head, her expression softening. “She’s being taken care of. Maisie, Veronica, and Rosa are with her. But after what she went through tonight… she needs space.”

She doesn’t voice the unspoken truth of it: she needs space from you.

“I just want to help,” I say, the gravel in my voice even taking me off guard. “She shouldn’t have to go through this alone.”

Olivia holds up a hand to shush me into silence. She opens her mouth as if to speak, considering her words, and then closes it and shakes her head.

She’s given up on me too. “Just try to get some rest, Ado.”

Before I can respond, she slips back into the medical bay, and I stand staring at the closing door until it clicks.