Chapter 19

Ari

Itrusted Samson to save my ass. I trusted him to do what he knew needed to be done to get the two of us out of the nightmare in one piece. I trusted him with my life and with the life of our child like I'd never trusted anyone with anything. Even though some asshole in a suit with a gun pointed at us popped up out of nowhere, threatening us if we didn't do what he said, I trusted the hell out of my alpha to rescue me.

"I said walk slowly forward," the guy in the suit shouted, shifting impatiently and adjusting his hand on his gun.

"Ari," Samson said, calm and cool. "Get behind me."

I did as he said without a second's hesitation. I could see why he wanted me there, too. Samson had put on the other guy's bulletproof vest. I wondered if the guy in the suit noticed. I wonder if he'd noticed the pistol Samson carried.

"Are you stupid?" the suit guy hissed, starting to panic a little. "Hands in the air and walk forward."

"I don't think so," Samson said, raising his pistol as well.

I gasped before either of them shot. I knew it was going to happen, but that didn't stop me from recoiling in horror and instinctively raising my arms to shield my head as the shots went off.

There was a thump a moment later as the guy in the suit fell to the ground. Samson jolted slightly, but I knew he hadn't actually been injured by the feelings coming through our bond. It was the weirdest thing I'd ever experienced.

"Come on," Samson said in a grim voice a moment later, twisting to me and grabbing my arm, as if he would shuffle me along before I could see whether he'd actually killed the guy in the suit or just incapacitated him.

I moved without question, but I noticed a rip in Samson's bulletproof vest just over his shoulder. I stumbled a little as it hit me how close he'd come to a bullet in his head or somewhere else not covered by the vest. It was amazing that Samson seemed so completely unfazed after such a near miss.

I wasn't unfazed. I was about as fazed as it was possible to get. Even though I trusted Samson and knew he would protect me, I wobbled as I walked. The backpack I'd been wearing since we left the basement slipped off one shoulder, and I had to flail and struggle to get it back into place over the too-big coat I wore. Under all that, I was sweating furiously with panic.

I was too numb to ask why we were heading back to the shipping containers and the drug deal. I could only assume that Samson thought we'd be better off there for some reason. But the closer we got to the floodlit area, the harder it was for me to gasp for breath and keep my wits about me.

I could see the edges of whatever was going on with the containers and the trucks, Remmington, Mayor Keller, Mr. Ingraham, and Clyve before we reached the area. Everyone seemed to be on their cell phones, which was strange to me. One of the shipping containers already sat on the back of a tractor-trailer bed. The other was halfway on the second truck bed, like it was being hoisted on by some device I couldn't see, but whoever had been doing it stopped halfway through.

"I don't care what you've found or not found," I heard Clyve yell at whoever he had called. "Your ass needs to be here now!"

"Something's gone wrong," I whispered as Samson pulled me down to a crouch in the darkness of the forest, several yards outside of the circle of light around the deal.

"Yeah," Samson said.

That was the only thing he said. He bristled with awareness and determination as he scanned the entire area. He searched the trees around us as well as taking in the lit-up area.

Clyve's SUV and my car had been moved to give the tractor-trailers access to the shipping containers. The tractor-trailer that already had its shipping container in place was idling. I wondered why it didn't just drive off, until I saw a few other cars parked farther down the gravel drive, blocking it.

Something had definitely gone wrong. It was enough to make me wonder if everyone in front of us would already be dead as the result of some mob shoot-out if so many guards hadn't run off into the forest looking for me and Samson.

"Get back here at once," Remmington barked into his phone.

I caught my breath as it hit me that the bad guys had figured out the same thing I'd just figured out, probably faster than me. All those armed thug alphas who'd been chasing us through the night were on their way back.

"For the last time, Ingraham," Mayor Keller said as he ended his call and tucked his phone away. "Stop with all this nonsense. We're offering a better deal than you'll ever be able to get for this shipment as it is."

"It's worth half that," Ingraham growled in return, ending the call he'd been on as well. "And you have yet to give me the reassurances I've asked for."

"I can't control everything," Keller said.

"You can control who gets the shipping contract," Ingraham fired back. "And that seat on the city council. We're not ensuring your reelection with those voting machines for nothing."

I gaped at the two of them. They were haggling over price and arguing over shipping contracts and elections?

That was as far as my incredulity got.

"Fuck me, they're right here!" Bruno's voice growled from only a few yards behind us.

Samson stood up immediately, pulling me to my feet. I was almost too terrified to stand. We'd been discovered. And while I got the benefits of being caught standing up, so we had a better chance of running if we had to, it was completely fucking terrified to let ourselves be discovered.

I still felt grim resolve from Samson, though, so when he grabbed my arm in a vise-like grip and dragged me forward, out of the darkness and into the light around the shipping containers and trucks, I stumbled along with him without question.

"What the fuck?" Clyve shouted, lowering his phone and marching straight over to us. "Is this some sort of trick?"

"I'll give him back for a million dollars," Samson shouted, throwing his arm around me and pointing his gun at my head.

It was crazy-stupid. It made no sense at all. Except, when Clyve marched forward and grabbed my arm, yanking me away from Samson like he was saving me, it made all the sense in the world. Samson was doing whatever he could to make it look like I was a victim, like he'd kidnapped me as some sort of collateral, but also like he was incompetent at kidnapping. He was trying to make certain I lived.

Fuck that. I wasn't going to live without him.

I jerked my arm out of Clyve's grip and whipped back to face Samson, even as the few guards who had been left in the area closed in around us. More and more were pouring out of the darkness of the trees as they'd been called back as well, which added to the confusion.

"I know what you're trying to do, but I don't want it," I told Samson. "I'm not some victim. I love you, Samson. I love you, and if you die, I die."

"What the hell is this?" Clyve demanded.

I spun to face him, stepping back so the backpack I wore was almost pressed against Samson's chest as I did, like I would be his shield if he needed me to. And the way armed men were stepping and stumbling out of the forest around us just then told me he'd definitely need me to.

"I'm not going to marry you, Clyve," I said, even though it was over the top ridiculous to think about anything like that just then. "I love Samson. We're bonded, and I'm having his baby."

Clyve stood there, gaping like he couldn't process what was going on.

"Enough of this," Remmington shouted, stepping forward. "Just kill them and?—"

His words died on his lips and he glanced up to the starry sky.

I was confused for half a second before gasping so hard I could have passed out. Helicopters. The sound of swiftly approaching helicopters could be heard above us.

All hell broke loose a moment later. Because it wasn't just helicopters above us, and it wasn't just Clyve's guards and Remmington's suited men who slipped out of the forest and into the floodlit area, ready to go at each other. At least half of the men arriving on the scene were dressed in what looked to me like bulky, black combat gear, their faces concealed. They wore helmets as well. Military-looking helmets.

"Get down!" one of them shouted as they stepped closer to us. Not they, she. She had the deep voice and thick build of a female alpha. I hadn't seen a single female alpha among any of Clyve's or Remmington's men.

A second later, gunfire erupted all around us.

I was too terrified to move. Not even when Samson threw his arms around me and jerked me to the side and down. He flattened himself over me for a moment, as best he could with the backpack I wore, tucking his arms in around me as the storm of bullets continued to fly all around us.

In the minute pause between the first round of shots and the second, as men shouted and a few of the guards pulled and shoved the leaders of the deal to cover, Samson lifted enough to urge me to crawl toward the nearest tractor-trailer. It was the one with the shipping container half on and half off, but in a way, that worked to our advantage.

"To the left, to the left," the female alpha called out as gunfire erupted again.

The helicopters zoomed overhead, pausing to shine more light down into the clearing. A few of the guards fired up into the sky.

I scrambled on my hands and knees to make it to the space behind the back tires of the tractor-trailer bed, right where the tilted shipping container created a small shelter. Once we were there, Samson shoved me into the safety of the space, but then he turned and crouched, like he would charge into the fray with the rest of the alphas.

"No!" I called out, grabbing the back of his trousers to keep him from flying out to where he could get hurt. "Stay with me!"

Samson hesitated, then rocked back.

"Remmington is trying to flee the scene," he said quickly. "If they don't stop him, or Ingraham and Keller, all of this will be swept under the carpet as just some random drug deal gone wrong."

I gaped as the truth of what he said hit me. If the key players in this game escaped, the nightmare would never end.

"I'm coming with you," I insisted.

"Ari—"

A stray bullet hitting the edge of the truck bed near where we crouched, ricocheting with an eerie, metallic ring, ended his protest. That and the fact that I spotted three pairs of suited legs trying to inch along the other side of the truck bed where we were hidden.

"That's them," I said, grabbing Samson's trousers and pulling.

I didn't have the first clue what I was doing. I only knew that I couldn't let anyone get away from this wild scene. I flattened myself as much as I could and slipped under the truck bed so I could catch the bottom of the trouser leg of one of the suited men trying to sneak past.

"What the?—"

I'd grabbed hold of Mayor Keller. His eyes grew round when he saw me with a death-grip on his trouser leg. He tried to shake me off, but come hell or high water, I wasn't letting go.

"Get off me!" Keller shouted. "I'm trying to get away."

Whether he still thought I was a victim and a prisoner, I didn't know. He didn't think much of anything a moment later when Samson shifted his way under the truck bed and grabbed Keller around the knees, tackling him.

I didn't see what he did, but Keller groaned and went limp. He wasn't dead, but he was too stunned to do anything more than writhe where he was, holding his head.

Samson leapt up from there, racing on to tackle the next closest man trying to get away, Mr. Ingraham.

The entire area was lit up like day now, between the floodlights and the light being shone down from the helicopters. I could see every line on Mr. Ingraham's shocked face as he twisted and raised a gun at Samson.

"No!" I shouted as the gun went off.

Samson jerked back with a loud grunt, but I knew he wasn't dead. I felt a flare of pain, but that seemed mild somehow. More than that, Samson rushed forward, throwing himself at Mr. Ingraham and knocking him to the ground.

The two of them struggled. Ingraham was much stronger than I would have thought he was, if the feeling of combat I got from Samson was any indication.

I crawled forward, the backpack slipping slightly to one side, trying to reach the fight. Ingraham still held his pistol, and he managed to fire another shot that didn't go anywhere. I didn't think about the danger of the moment, I just knew I had to protect my alpha at all costs.

I scrambled up to the side of the fight and grabbed Ingraham's hand, fighting to wrench the gun free of his grasp. He fired it again, and it was pure luck that the bullet didn't hit me. The shot seemed to infuriate Samson, who growled and punched Ingraham across the face.

Like Keller, Mr. Ingrahm went suddenly limp. He still moved a little, which told me he hadn't been knocked out entirely, but he was stunned.

Samson reeled back, then flipped Mr. Ingraham over to his stomach. From there, he yanked the top of Ingraham's suit jacket down, tangling it around his elbows until it was tight. He then rocked back farther and yanked Ingraham's shoes off.

Once Ingraham was incapacitated, which I knew was incredibly temporary, Samson shot to his feet, racing after Remmington.

Remmington had only made it as far as the front of the tractor-trailer. The battle going on throughout the area made it too dangerous to move very far out of cover at the risk of being hit by a stray bullet. If Remmington was smart, and he probably was, he was trying to get to one of the vehicles farther down the drive. He was searching the area so intently that he didn't see Samson coming.

Samson swept right up behind him and threw an arm around the man's neck, yanking him back. Remmington growled in surprise, and I gasped at Samson's audacity.

"Get off me!" Remmington shouted, grabbing Samson's arm and struggling with him.

Like Ingraham, Remmington was stronger than he looked. He fought back against Samson ferociously. Samson tried to throw a punch, but Remmington evaded it. Worse, he pivoted to the side, freeing up one of his legs enough to sweep at Samson's feet.

Samson stumbled, spilling to the gravel. He didn't let go of Remmington, though. Remmington fell with him, and the two of them continued their struggle on the ground.

I raced toward them, hoping I'd be able to help, like I had with Mr. Ingraham. I couldn't see enough through the straining, shifting limbs to know what I could do. Remmington seemed to be an equal match in strength with Samson. I didn't like the way he was more focused on reaching for his pocket than on fighting Samson.

A heartbeat later, there was a flash of glinting silver as Remmington produced some sort of knife.

"Samson!" I shouted, but it was too late.

Pain seared through my arm as Remmington sliced his blade across Samson's forearm where he still had a grip on Remington's neck. Samson cried out and loosened his grip enough for Remmington to wriggle free.

I hoped he'd just run, but Remmington was in full fight mode. He rolled to the side, slashing at Samson again and slicing straight through Samson's trousers. I felt a stab of pain along my inner thigh and cried out along with Samson. There were important arteries in that area, and if Remmington hit one, Samson would be gone in minutes.

"No!" I shouted, flinging myself at Remmington, despite the fact I had no idea what I was doing.

I threw my whole weight at him, knocking him away from Samson. Remmington didn't expect my attack, but he was quick to respond. He was bigger and stronger than me, and after the initial surprise, he had the better of me within seconds.

Remmington used my momentum to roll the two of us around until he pressed his entire weight down on me. The bulk of the backpack only knocked the wind out of me even more. Then he crouched back, grabbing my throat and pulling me up with him as he did. My entire body was bowed because of the backpack, but Remmington had me immobilized and stuck in his grip in no time.

"Stay back," Remmington growled, holding the knife to my throat. "One more step and I'll slit his throat."

"No!" I shouted, meeting and holding Samson's eyes as he lifted to a battle-ready crouch. My protest was to tell him not to worry about me. He had to get Remmington, bring him down.

Samson hesitated, his face twisted in a vicious snarl. I could practically hear his thoughts as he strategized how he was going to get me out of this situation. He jerked forward, like he would attack, but that just caused a slice of biting pain across my throat, followed by a warm trickle as drops of blood spilled down my neck.

It was just a threat, not a full slice, but it was enough to have me limp and panicky in Remmington's grasp.

"Let him go!" Samson shouted, his demand punctuated by more gunfire around us.

Remmington wasn't going to let me go. I knew that and Samson knew that. Samson wasn't going to give up either. I was his omega, and weirdly, I had the sense that Remmington knew what that meant. He knew Samson would kill him with his bare hands if, when, he killed me.

We were stuck.

Which might have been the only thing that saved me. The hesitation bought someone time, and with the sharp click of a gun, someone behind me and Remmington shouted, "Nobody move!"