27. The Threat

27

THE THREAT

Jag cursed when they pulled into his driveway. “I can’t believe I left the frying pan at your place.”

“It’s just a short walk next door,” Niall pointed out.

“You’re coming over with me while I grab it.”

Niall stared. “Really?”

“Yes.” Jag’s stony expression left no room for argument.

Vaguely, worry twinged at Niall. Was the threat so bad that Jag wouldn’t let Niall out of his sight for even a minute?

Jag unbuckled their seatbelts and helped Niall out of the truck. Instead of heading straight next door, he brought Niall to his own home, unlocked the door, and tightened his hand around Niall’s shoulder. “Wait here for me.”

Jag slipped through the front door like an alpha on a mission. Niall waited for a few moments before carefully sticking his head inside.

Further in the house, Jag crept from room to room, keeping himself concealed from the doorways, before carefully looking into each room.

It felt really like some kind of action movie except it was happening in real life.

In his life.

Niall gulped. He sneaked into the house because it now felt safer than being outside, and watched as Jag disappeared into their bedroom.

When Jag emerged, it was with a gun in his hands. He clicked a full magazine into it.

Niall hadn’t even known that Jag owned a gun.

“Are you going to shoot someone?” he choked.

Jag’s gaze flickered toward him. He looked terrifying, in that moment. All stone-faced, his eyes cold.

Niall realized that this was the Jag who had killed a man.

Jag tucked his gun into a hip holster hidden under his shirt. “I prefer to use my fists.”

“I don’t know why that makes me aroused.”

Jag gave him a sharp smile. “It just means you’re my perfect omega.”

He closed the distance between them and lightly squeezed Niall’s neck, nudging him forward. At the door, Jag stepped out first, pausing for a moment before he allowed Niall to join him.

Jag locked the door. For the two minutes they’d take to retrieve a frying pan.

Niall reeled at the sheer craziness of the situation. Then they were off, Jag pressed close to him, looking around as they crossed the lawn.

Jag made Niall stand guard while he opened the door. He took his gun out and slipped inside first, silently. Niall held his breath and hoped like hell he wouldn’t hear any gunshots.

Were they about to be attacked? Was it safer to be inside, or outside?

Niall fidgeted anxiously, counting down to thirty before he followed Jag into the house.

Jag was halfway through scouting the entire place. Niall sank against the couch because his knees suddenly felt weak.

Maybe he should call the police? Or... someone.

He fumbled out his phone, pulling up his chat with Evan. As usual, he used speech-to-text—as quietly as he could.

Niall

Something weird’s going on. I think we might be under attack. Jag’s looking in every room of our house just to retrieve his frying pan

Something creaked behind him.

“A frying pan, huh?”

His insides turned into ice. He recognized that voice.

It had been seared into his eardrums, and it echoed in his nightmares.

Gruyere couldn’t be back. He just couldn’t. Hadn’t he died years ago? Niall’s ears rang; every old wound on his body burst into phantom pain.

“Jag!” Niall choked on the name, except a sound came from the furthest room. Something thumped; Jag swore.

Was there someone else in the house?

“Lucky for me, I had the foresight to plant a distraction.”

Niall whipped around, his heart pounding.

Dr. Brie Gruyere stood barely an arm’s length away, dressed in a shirt and pants instead of his dirty lab coat. He was gaunt like a skeleton, barely hanging on, but he still had the creepy smile that made Niall’s blood freeze. “Ah, my favorite failure.”

“I’m not yours.” Niall took one step back, his vision blurring. Jag was going to step out at any moment. Jag had a gun. He wouldn’t let Gruyere take Niall and torture him again.

Another thump came from the back room, followed by the sound of scuffling.

Gruyere glanced in that direction, smiling serenely. “I see you found someone to take you in despite your shortcomings. No matter. You won’t be relying on him for too much longer.”

“You’re insane,” Niall said. “I don’t want to go with you!”

“Who said you had a choice?” The doctor breached the space between them faster than Niall could blink. He was suddenly too close, his breath on Niall’s face. The surge of memories put black spots in Niall’s vision.

“Jag,” Niall cried, trying to make his voice louder except it seemed to be stuck in his throat.

He was going to die here, before Jag could reach him.

Or was Gruyere’s minion trying to kill Jag?

“I have a few more experiments I want to try on you,” Gruyere was saying.

“They’ll fail! They’ve all failed on me!”

“But your scent didn’t fail.” Gruyere smiled again. “It’s like a homing beacon in this area, 478. I know where you sleep.”

Niall shuddered with revulsion.

“You don’t know this, but there are implants in your scent glands.” Gruyere seemed extremely pleased with himself. “We hollowed out enough flesh to add a permanent chemical release in your body. That’s why your scent is so strong. The implant is meant to last through your lifetime.”

Niall wanted to cry. And he wanted to throw up. He backed away from the alpha, only to see Gruyere’s nostrils flare, and his stare drop to Niall’s belly.

No! Niall wrapped his arms protectively around his abdomen.

The alpha’s eyes widened. Then, they narrowed with malice. “Ah. You may have some use alive, after all.”

He was going to kill me? Niall whimpered.

Gruyere’s hand shot out, at the same moment Jag stepped out of the furthest room, panting.

“Jag!” Niall cried.

Jag swung his gun up, but it was too late.

The doctor grabbed Niall by the throat and dragged him in front of himself to use as a meat shield.

Jag’s entire body tensed. And he seemed to grow bigger, his muscles bulging, his eyes flashing, his teeth bared in a snarl. In the coldest tone Niall had ever heard from him, Jag said, “Let him go.”

Gruyere scoffed. “Why should I? He was mine long before he was yours.”

“I’m not yours!” Niall shouted, except the doctor closed his hand around Niall’s neck and tried to crush his windpipe. Niall struggled to breathe.

Jag roared and lunged. Only for Gruyere to pull out a gun, shoving its barrel against Niall’s temple.

“Come any closer, and I’ll shoot.”

Jag stopped abruptly, paling. His gaze flickered.

Then he lunged anyway, ripping Niall out of Gruyere’s hands. Jag all but threw Niall across the room.

“Jag!” Niall’s stomach clenched. The doctor had a gun.

“Might be more of a threat if his safety was off,” Jag growled.

Gruyere moved to flick the safety off. Jag was faster. His fist connected; the doctor went flying backward, stumbling against the wall.

Before Niall had a chance to feel relief, Jag whipped around—the other invader stood in the doorway, aiming a gun at Jag.

Niall’s heart stopped.

Jag threw himself sideways right as a deafening gunshot went off.

“Stay down,” Jag growled.

Niall dropped to a crouch, except Gruyere shook himself and turned the gun on Niall again.

“Don’t move,” the doctor said.

Niall panicked. He flung himself sideways like Jag had done, his stomach clenching when someone fired.

He hid behind a couch and hoped it was enough. He saw Gruyere’s reflection in a shiny cabinet—and realized that Gruyere was now aiming his gun at Jag.

Jag had two people trying to kill him. From both sides. What were the chances that he could walk out of this alive?

Niall wrapped his arms around himself, his heart pounding in his ears. Even if he called 911... they would take minutes to arrive.

Someone could shoot Jag in seconds.

Niall was going to lose his alpha.

It only made sense. He’d never had very much luck. His parents had never been too fond of him; they’d gone on vacation when he’d been kidnapped, and then they’d died. Niall had suffered for years at the hands of cruel alphas, and it was only when he’d gotten out that he had a chance at a better life.

And now, this.

Another gunshot went off, then another. Niall’s throat closed. He heard heavy footsteps, but there was no way to tell if Jag had been shot.

Then someone shot again, and this time, Jag grunted.

Niall’s vision blurred. Jag had been shot, hadn’t he? Was there time to call for help? His hands shook as he tried to push the buttons on his phone. He should’ve done this earlier. Should’ve done it immediately instead of cowering.

If he lost Jag, if he lost his alpha and never got to hide in his arms again, if he never got to see Jag’s smile, never got to be his sweetheart...

Niall sobbed, pushing the buttons on his phone. All he ever wanted was his very own alpha. Jag had accepted him completely. Jag had been proud of him, Jag had cuddled him to sleep and woken him up with kisses.

I just want more time with him, Niall thought. I want to wake up every day with Jag next to me.

I love him, Niall realized.

If it wasn’t too late, if he still had a chance to be with his alpha...

“Niall,” Jag growled, startling him. “Call for help.”

Niall’s heart leaped.

He hit the call button, peeking around the couch to see Jag dodge a bullet.

“911. What is your emergency?”

“Someone’s attacking my alpha!” Niall cried, right as someone else fired a gun. Niall yelped in terror. Something heavy thumped.

“Try to stay calm. Are you in a safe place?”

“Yeah,” Niall panted.

“What’s your address?”

Niall rattled off his address, looking over to see Gruyere’s henchman slumped over on the floor. Jag and Gruyere were fighting now. Jag grabbed Gruyere’s gun and flung it across the room. Then he clocked Gruyere in the head with his gun, pummeling the doctor to the floor.

“You will not win,” Gruyere shouted.

Jag pinned the doctor’s chest with his knees, dropping his own gun on the floor behind himself. He slipped something metallic out of his pocket.

It was a dangerous-looking brass knuckle, Niall realized.

“You’re a horrific scumbag,” Jag hissed, wrapping his hand around Gruyere’s throat. And he brought his fist down in a flash of metal, punching Gruyere hard in the face. Something cracked. The man kicked and screamed; Jag choked him ruthlessly, his teeth bared. “This is for Niall.”

He broke Gruyere’s jaw with the brass knuckles, and then broke his nose.

“Fuck off,” Gruyere snapped, punching futilely at Jag. “He’s just a useless omega—”

Jag choked him so hard that his eyes bulged. “Say that again.”

“He’s just—”

Jag slammed his knuckles into the man’s eyes.

There was a lot of blood. Niall looked away, barely realizing that the emergency line operator was trying to speak to him. “Okay,” he said without hearing her words.

Jag punched the doctor so many times that the doctor stopped moving. But Jag was still punching him.

“Jag?” Niall said carefully.

His alpha glanced over, his eyes ice-cold.

“I think he’s dead,” Niall said.

Jag flicked his gaze back to the doctor’s bloodied head. “Not dead enough.”

Slowly, Niall crept forward. Jag glanced at the motionless henchman, the doctor, then fixed his attention on Niall. “Did they hurt you this time?”

Niall shook his head. “You saved me.”

Jag raked his gaze up and down Niall’s body. He was still cold, though. Like a part of him had shut down.

Niall tiptoed up to him, touching the newly-forming bruises on Jag’s face. “Did they hurt you? I heard gunshots...”

Jag shook his head. “Elbow to the face. Nothing serious.”

Niall breathed a sigh of relief. He hugged Jag’s face to his waist, trying to coax him away from the dead doctor. “Step away from him? Please?”

Jag blinked. He drew a deep breath, his broad chest puffing out. And he buried his face against Niall’s body, filling his lungs with Niall’s scent. “Gods, you always smell so good.” Jag pulled off his brass knuckles and wrapped his arms around Niall, hugging him tight. “You did great, sweetheart.”

Niall’s heart skipped. “I did nothing.”

“You kept yourself alive.”

When Jag pulled away and straightened to his full height, warmth burned in his eyes. A smile played on his lips.

Niall’s knees grew weak. He wobbled; Jag caught him and drew him away from the bodies, holding him steady. “How are you feeling?”

Niall began to answer. But sirens wailed in the distance, and he panicked. “Will we be okay? They won’t send you to jail, right?”

“I’m your alpha,” Jag murmured, rubbing his back. “They tried to hurt you. We’ll be fine.”

“But—” Niall wanted to say they didn’t have bonding marks. Jag hadn’t given him any, and Niall hadn’t felt comfortable asking for Jag’s. Maybe Jag wasn’t ready to give Niall one? Bonding marks were permanent.

Would the police take that for an answer, though?