19. All Butchery and Shit

Chapter Nineteen

ALL BUTCHERY AND SHIT

Bramley

T his is so much fucking harder than I thought it would be.

Scent matches? That shit is no joke, nothing to be taken lightly, and the longer I drive around our little ghost town, the more I can’t figure out why the fuck I’m still fighting this. I don’t even know if I want to anymore.

I really put my foot in it this time.

For a good reason, no one can convince me it’s not.

I think living through two separate incidents that wiped out the omegas in Obsidian Falls, and watching how they completely destroyed my family both times is pretty fucking valid.

It’s hard not to worry about it happening again, not when Bryce Harden is still around, doing what that fucking family does.

Five sons.

Five dumbasses to carry on the family business. It’s a damn good thing Charles—the bastard who started it all—didn’t make it out of that bloodbath all those years ago. Had grandpa dickhead survived, I’m sure things would have been worse for everyone.

He didn’t, though, didn’t even have the chance, and I guess since good old Alan is hanging around in my shop, and Walker hasn’t defected back to his bloodline yet, it means there’s only three Hardens we have to worry about outside of daddy dearest.

But there is still worry.

If they knew Indy was here, if they got wind of two omegas hiding in Obsidian, especially one I took from the ranch, we’d have another war on our hands. Hell, they’d probably snatch them both up and then bomb us once and for all.

I can’t let that happen to Indy.

White knuckling the steering wheel, I scowl at that thought.

Everything has been coming back to her. Every thought, feeling, plan, and concern.

Every. Goddamn. Thing.

It’s maddening, and I don’t know how anyone can handle having a fucking scent match if this is what it’s like.

How the fuck did Rex do this?

My dad didn’t get with Carlisle for two years, knowing they were scent matches the entire time, he did exactly what I’m doing—trying in vain to ignore it—until my mom called him out. Rex was smarter than I am, though, because his mate told him what was up and he listened. Mine have done so, repeatedly, and they’ve had help from my family to drive the point home, and I still refuse to accept it. I can’t talk to Rex about this, though, not if he and Ezekiel can’t even have an omega in their house fifteen years after Mom died. That’s some intense grief, and it means heart to hearts with either of my dads is out of the question.

But it’s driving me nuts.

It’s really starting to feel like I’m going to simultaneously have an aneurysm and an orgasm whenever I focus on it for too long, Which is always.

With an annoyed sigh, I realize too late that I’ve driven to Nan’s house, coasting into the driveway on nothing but muscle memory, and I’m sure I’ve already been seen so I can’t exactly get out of going in for a few minutes.

Not that I’m really liking the idea of having my grandmother very literally beat some sense into me, again.

Maybe I should just talk to her about all of this shit.

Tell her how I’m feeling, and explain my concerns. If I could really level with someone, be totally honest with them, they might understand without being directly involved with my pack. Maybe then I can start coming to terms with shit so we can all move on.

I throw my truck into park and blink.

That was way too rational, too logical for me.

Besides, it’s not real hard to figure out what my problem is, or how to fix it.

Talking to Nan has always helped, though.

She’ll be annoyed over having to repeat herself, but she’ll do it. Nan will repeat every goddamn thing she’s said about Indy and I ever since I rolled up with her in my lap, and she’ll continue to do so until she’s satisfied the shit has finally sunk in.

“Sappy feelings bullshit,” I mumble as I get out of my truck and stomp my way to the front door.

I could do without all of this crap, that’s for sure.

The people I love know I love them, and that’s about where the buck stops when it comes to my emotions. Well, all of them except blind rage, I show that one a lot.

Wiping my boots on the mat, I lower my mask and push the door open. “Nan? Pap? You decent?”

I am definitely not looking to walk in on either of them naked again. Or both of them naked together.

Fucking gross.

Although, if I can get it up at Pap’s age, and still use it, I’d probably be doing the same thing they were the day I had to bleach my eyes.

“Nan?” I toe off my boots then hang up my coat, respecting the same rules that have been followed in this house since my mom was a little girl. “Are you…”

My words trail off and I frown as I walk through the foyer and stop at the bottom of the stairs.

It’s quiet. Way too quiet for them.

I look left into the living room, then right into the dining room, noting that the only light in the house is coming from the setting sun outside.

Their truck is here. I saw it down by the pole barn when I was walking up.

At this point in the day, Nan would have already put up the animals for the night, had dinner with Pap, then the two of them usually sit in the family room for a bit before heading to bed.

They’ve done the same fucking thing my entire life, the only difference was how long it took because Gramma Lily and Grampa George used to help. Now, it’s just the two of them, usually just Nan, and it’s become a total crapshoot depending on whether or not Pap is being a shit for her.

With a frown, I walk down the hall toward the family room, glancing in the bathroom and what used to be Pap’s office before stepping into the spacious, and totally pitch black, room.

“Nan?” There’s a soft light coming from the kitchen, most likely the one over the oven, but when I step inside, that’s all there is to see, because they aren’t here.

No dishes in the sink, no leftovers cooling on the counters. The table in the breakfast nook is spotless. It honestly doesn’t even smell like they cooked in here recently.

My gut rolls as I head back toward the front door, slowly making my way to the stairs before taking them two at a time.

I don’t like this.

I don’t like this at all.

Something feels really off, it feels wrong, and if I were armed with anything other than my own stupidity, I’d be searching this house like a fucking cop.

I check each of our old bedrooms, the four our grandparents decorated just for us, and haven’t changed since we got too old to keep staying here. They’re all quiet and dark, as are both bathrooms, but as I put my hand on the knob to Pap and Nan’s bedroom, the hair on the back of my neck stands on end, and all hell breaks loose.

Their door swings open with a high-pitched creak followed by a thud, a flurry of movement coming out of the doorway at full speed. Whoever it is crashes into my bum shoulder, stunning me, and sending me backward a few steps before they race toward the stairs.

With a hiss and a growl, I pull my mask up, glancing in their room to make sure it’s empty, and take off after them, shaking out my arm before I clearly see what’s happening.

Two men are running the steps in front of me, one taller than the other, both in decent shape but clearly underestimating me, and this old as fuck house.

The asshat in the lead hits the fifth step from the bottom, sending the loose plank up into the second asshat’s shins, causing him to stumble and lose his balance before he falls into his buddy and the two of them go down the last few stairs on their faces.

Neither of them are moving a whole lot, both groaning and grunting a little, and since it’s, once again, two on one, I need to take advantage of their stupidity.

I move between them quickly, grabbing the wrists of the moron on the left, the one who’s moving a little more, then wrench his arms back until his shoulder blades are touching. I drop down so my knee is digging into his hands, the pressure locking his arms and keeping him in place while I reach for the other idiot, grab him by the hair, then pat down his pockets.

Bingo.

Zip ties.

His wrists are cuffed quickly and I grab a few more to get his buddy tied up tight. Then attach them both at the ankles, and get to my feet.

Parking my hands on my hips, I give them each a good kick, hard enough to flip them over, and once I can see their pissed off faces, I tilt my head to the side and ask, “Where are my grandparents? Why the fuck are you in their house?”

One dumbass just spits at me while the other grunts, “Go to hell.”

“I’m going to ask one more time.” I crouch down between them, checking the pockets of their hoodies and tactical pants only to find them both packing a small arsenal, and not sporting any ID. “Where the hell are my grandparents, and why the fuck are you in their house?”

“Suck my dick,” the mouthy one says, those words the key to making my day one thousand times better than it was before. “We don’t answer to anyone but Hall.”

“Is that so?” I smile as I start twirling the extra zip ties between my thumb and forefinger. “And would this, Hall, be a real person, or some stupid name you’ve given to your god?”

The spitter gears up to do it again but my free hand shoots out, quickly grabbing his jaw and squeezing until he can’t move it.

“Is this, Hall, close by? He in the house, too?”

He just narrows his eyes and holds my stare, refusing to answer my questions, and proving he really is a dumb fuck.

So, I hang onto his face and shift my attention toward his mouthy friend who’s suddenly quiet. “He here somewhere?”

“Fuck off.”

“I’ll take that as a no.” A slow smile spreads across my face, one they can’t see but it’s there all the same. “You know, I was just thinking about how I really needed to kill someone, then low and behold, you dipshits decided to come all the way out here and fuck around. Guess that means there’s nothing left to do but find out.”

Yanking the pitchfork free from the bearing wall, I grab the makeshift gag—part of an old towel Nan used to clean up an abscess on her twenty year old mare—and pull it out of Nicolas’s mouth.

He gags, his body trying to double over despite his position.

Nicolas’s arms are above his head, the zip tie around his wrists stapled to the wood, legs spread, toes pointed toward opposite corners of the wall. And held in place by several nails delivered by the nail gun hanging from my tool belt. Nails that I shot into his feet and ankles until his legs stopped dangling.

Turns out, they did have ID, I just never would have found it if I hadn’t brought them out to the small barn and stripped them down to their racket and balls.

Which is exactly where they were hiding their licenses.

“You gonna tell me about Hall now, you sorry excuse for a cum dumpster?” I quickly sidestep the beta as he heaves a couple times then vomits all over the front of himself. “Not feeling so hot, are we?”

I pat his cheek but he jerks his head away and swallows hard. “Go to?—“

“Hell. I know. You should try for something less predictable next time.” He starts to panic as I shove the pus covered rag back between his lips, wiggling it around until his mouth drops open. I push the dirty linen toward the back of his throat, his jaw popping once I feel that cute little dangly ball at the opening. “You just have to use your imagination.”

Turning away from him, I make my way toward the opposite bearing wall, giving Adam a hard shove as I walk past, then stop a few feet shy. I lift the pitchfork like a spear, raising it above my shoulder, ignoring the way it screams as I wind up.

“Last chance, gentlemen,” I say as my eyes shift between them. “Give me Hall, and we don’t have to level up to the next round.”

Neither of them says anything, not that they could, but they don’t even try.

I have to give them credit for their loyalty, no matter how misplaced it may be.

“Fine.” I line up my shot, squinting one eye like I’m really fucking trying, then send the pitchfork sailing through the air.

It barely nicks Adam as it whizzes past him, drawing a thin strip of blood along his side as it’s slightly thrown off course, but when it connects with its target, my god, I couldn’t have planned it better if I tried.

The farm tool makes itself at home in Nicolas’s thigh, the big bad beta screeching around the cloth. Three of the prongs are buried on the inside of the muscle, one thumping into the wood while the other pierces the asshole’s ballsack and pins it to the wall like a goddamn balloon.

Fucking gold.

If I had my phone, I’d take a picture.

“Ten points!” I shout as I pump my fist in the air. “I’m smoking your ass, Nicolas.”

All the color drains from his face as he breaks out into a sweat, his head bobbing around until he catches sight of the way his balls are bleeding, the warm liquid painting the side of his dick a deep red.

Such a lightweight.

“Don’t go to sleep on me, Nicky boy,” I say with a grin as I walk toward the middle of the room. “I’d hate for you to miss what I’m about to do next.”

He swallows thickly around his gag, mouth obviously dry, and forces his head up, pushing it back until it thumps against the wood.

I grab onto Adam’s knee and give him a push, the alpha starting to spin in a slow circle.

He’s hogtied, his wrists and ankles bound together then connected by another that’s threaded through both loops. I’m not sure how flexible he was before this, but his feet are probably closer to the back of his head than they’ve ever been.

Adam’s head droops as he goes round and round, not even flinching when I reach out and let my fingers move over the cut in his side each time it passes. On the third revolution, I grab his hair to stop him, then look him in the eye.

Something I’m only able to do because he’s hanging from the ceiling.

I used Pap’s old ass tow chain and rigged it from the rafters, then strung this dumb shit up from the hook at the end. He’s like a meaty pi?ata.

I don’t plan on beating him, though.

No, poor little alpha Adam is going to meet a very different fate.

“I just want to know what you were doing in the house,” I say, turning him so we’re both looking at Nicolas. “It’s a simple enough question, and if you answered, we might have been able to avoid all of this.”

That’s a bold face lie.

We wouldn’t have.

I was already feeling the need to murder something, but the fact that these fuckers broke into my grandparent’s house and won’t tell me why? Yeah, that’s a sure fire nail in the coffin.

They’re lucky my dad randomly texted me to let me know how Pap’s appointment went—I completely forgot he had one—as I was dragging them out here. Rex unknowingly answered one of my questions, and it meant I could take my time instead of pressing them about what they might have done to my grandparents with the warranted urgency I felt when I first saw these two. We get to take things at my pace, and the only thing I have to worry about is whether or not Nan walks in before or after I clean up.

“There has to be a reason, right?” I turn Adam to face me again, brushing his hair back to expose his neck and forehead and all the veins popping out of it. “Most people don’t even know Obsidian Falls is here, let alone get the bright idea of visiting.”

I smirk when I look him in the eye and see all the busted blood vessels.

I really fucking needed this.

Hunting is one thing, one very important, very satisfying thing, but this… It gives me an entirely different level of satisfaction. It’s been a long time since I’ve gotten to play with my food, and I almost forgot how much I enjoy it.

Reaching toward my tool belt, I can’t help but smile as Adam’s eyes follow my movement then go wide when I grab my weapon of choice. “You were clearly looking for something specific.”

I lift the sickle and lightly run the edge against his cheek.

“Money?” I shake my head as I look between them. “No, I’d imagine this Hall fella pays you for your troubles. Based on your gear, he pays you well.” With an arched brow, I pat Adam’s cheek with the blade. “That would also mean you weren’t looking for jewelry or silver, or anything else you could sell. Don’t need to with a sugar daddy.”

Walking in a slow circle, I keep the sickle against Adam’s cheek and turn him as a thought occurs to me.

“Who were you looking for?”

The alpha flinches, an almost imperceptible movement, and I catch his beta do the same as we stop, facing him once again.

“Ah.” I nod, clasping both hands behind my back as I start to pace between them. “So this was a search and rescue? Maybe a search and recover, and regardless of which, you were anticipating trouble since you were armed to the teeth.” I motion toward their guns and knives, meticulously laid out in front of the tractor. “I highly doubt you were looking for the two crotchety old timers who live in that house, which means you’re either way off base by looking in a town that’s not even on the map, or you’re lost and wandered into a real fucking mess.”

Neither of them try to speak, I’m pretty sure they’re trying not to blink, but they already gave themselves away. They’re looking for someone, and I’m almost impressed by the way these two are willing to bleed out just so they don’t have to tell me who.

I can change that, though.

One thing they told me without even knowing?

They’re together.

These two are clearly mates, probably in Hall’s pack, and since everything I’ve done has been relatively repairable so far, they’ve been committed to their mission above their commitment to each other.

I’m about to change that, and I know exactly who’s going to crack.

“How long have you been together?” Adam’s nostrils flare, confirming what I knew, and when Nicolas can’t help the way he flexes his fingers, I know I’m right about all of it. “A few years, maybe? Not quite a decade but more than two or three revolutions around the sun?” I spin Adam again to emphasize my words. “Doesn’t matter, not to me, but I’d suggest telling me what you’re doing here if you want to celebrate another anniversary.”

Giving them a few seconds, I move until I’m next to the alpha then nonchalantly lift my hands and proceed to pick my nails with the sickle, waiting to see what these two are going to do, knowing damn well neither of them will be leaving here with all the parts they came in with.

Then it happens.

Adam stares at Nicolas for a long few moments, his eyes glued to the beta, never once leaving his face. Unspoken words, maybe tapping into a bond. The alpha tells him so much with that look and I can’t help the way my mind wanders back to my confrontation with Indy.

Those purplish-blue eyes were so goddamn expressive.

She didn’t need to speak at all, and I knew exactly what she was saying, but when she did, I swear her eyes turned into indigo infernos. All that fire, that heat. It burned so brightly it was almost blinding, and I know what I need to do if I want to play with that fire again.

I need to sort myself out, fast, and get in front of my omega so I can fix everything I’ve broken. Then I’ll get her underneath me so she knows I mean it.

Nicolas and Adam won’t get the same chance.

Not anymore.

The alpha gives his mate a slight nod and instead of whatever reassurance it was meant to provide, it signals the beginning of their end.

Without warning, I move, quickly and efficiently delivering an uppercut to Adam’s midsection but my fist doesn’t meet defined muscle under taut flesh. No, my hand stops along with the hilt of the blade, both sitting about an inch or two outside of his abdomen, his blood warm as it coats my knuckles and starts running down my arm.

Adam grits his teeth and tears spring to his eyes, but he doesn’t scream.

He doesn’t beg around his gag, plead for his life or the life of his mate.

The alpha just stares ahead at Nicolas, and tries to keep what little strength he might have left.

Brave.

Stupid, but brave.

Yanking the sickle from his gut, I watch the muscles quiver and twitch, a grin curling my lips as his back arches a little more. I turn to Nicolas, cocking my head when I see him almost as stone faced.

It isn’t a fatal wound, not yet. A shot right to the gut is one you can die from, sure, but not immediately, and the position he’s in means any stomach acid or bile will have a harder time circulating through his system. In theory, Adam could survive this.

But only if I let him.

“At this point, I really don’t care who it is you’re trying to find,” I grunt as I wipe the rusty metal against the alpha’s ass cheek. “I just need to know for sure if they made it to Obsidian Falls.”

I stare at the beta for a few seconds then turn to the alpha, who is starting to lose a lot of color as well as his will to stay conscious.

Still nothing.

So be it.

Driving the sickle back into his abdomen, I angle it this time, moving it up and under the ribs until I feel his liver. More blood oozes out of him, painting my arm and the floor a deep shade of crimson and this time, I keep the blade inside.

I lift my head, my eyes scanning the alpha once again but I know where he’s headed, so he’s not the one I’m really interested in.

Instead, I swing my gaze to Nicolas, my smile growing when I see the look of nausea on his face, then continue to stare as I keep the sickle buried and drag down his mate’s body.

Blood splatters against the floor, the splash of the thick red liquid as it connects with the wood loud in the near silent room. There’s a curtain of it now, a waterfall flowing from the long, deep wound, dripping steadily until Adam takes a deep breath and his heart tries pushing more through his body.

A louder spurt followed by a little more than a trickle.

Another splash as I extend the opening all the way down to his knot, then a heavy, wet thump echoes as his entrails begin to fall out.

That’s when Nicolas screams.

“You want to talk now?” The sickle slides out of Adam like a hot knife through butter, more of his guts splashing at my feet. “When there’s no hope left for someone you claimed to love?”

He nods wildly, tears streaming down his face, while he mumbles as loud as he can around the pus covered cloth.

It’s too late, and he should know it. They didn’t have a chance, anyway, but most of Adam’s insides are on the outside, and the blood loss alone gives him no more than a minute or two. If I were in his position, if someone had actually bested me and put one of my mates at risk, I never would have let it get this far. Hell, no one would be able to best me unless they shot me first, and even then it’s questionable, so there’s no way my pack would ever be in this type of situation.

Oh well.

Nicolas is going to have to live with the guilt, right up until I kill him, too.

“Okay, sure, let’s chat.” I bend down and grab a handful of intestines then use the rusty blade to cut about a four inch section free. I drop the sickle, and the guts, then walk toward the beta who has peed all over the bearing wall. “Talk fast.”

I yank the gag from between his lips, the dry skin on the bottom tearing as I do, but it doesn’t slow him down. “We’re… We were looking for…” Nicolas swallows hard, and I can hear the way his tongue sticks. “Hall sent us to find an omega.”

My heart skips a beat at that, maybe more than one, but I keep my expression calm as I step even closer. “Why?”

“He, he said”—his eyes move to Adam—“Oh, god, he’s going to die.”

“Probably.” Definitely. But I need more information than that. “Why is he looking for an omega in Obsidian Falls?”

“He said… Hall said it made sense.”

“What made sense?”

Nicolas barely fights his sobs but manages to get the words out. “That an omega would hide here. He said there aren’t any omegas here.”

A chill races down my spine, Indigo flashing in my mind once again.

If this Hall is looking for an omega, it must be Arrow. Indy was left for dead, no one would be looking for her, but Arrow was at the ranch, and I’m sure Alan Harden wasn’t the only one who knew that. And if someone comes looking for him, if they send more people after Arrow, they’ll find Indy, too.

Not fucking happening.

The beta keeps talking, his sobs now uncontrollable, and I can’t understand one fucking word he’s saying, but it doesn’t matter anymore. I got what I needed, and I need to wrap this up so I can figure out the next step.

“P-p-please, let us?—“

“Did he mark you?” I snap as I stand directly in front of Nicky boy. “Your alpha, did he mark you?”

The beta nods.

Perfect. “And you want to leave here with him?”

Another nod.

“Then let's make that happen.”

My free hand shoots to his jaw, squeezing until I force it open, the bone cracking under the pressure, and as soon as his tongue flops out of his mouth, I shove the piece of Adam’s intestine inside. “Chew.”

He blinks at me through his tears, gagging over and over, snot running from his nose while he shakes his head. I can practically see the vomit climb up his throat, the muscles moving hard against whatever is trying to come up, and the second he heaves, I clamp my hand over his mouth and put us nose to nose.

“I said fucking chew.”

He does.

Nicolas chews the length of intestine, blood running from his lips and over his chin, vomit shooting against my hand before I shove it all back in. But he keeps chewing. Between his sobs, between his wrenching, the beta chews the last little bit of his alpha that he’ll ever get to taste, and I watch every single drop of his jaw while he does.

“Bramley Ambrose, what the hell do you think you’re doing in my barn?”

Rolling my eyes, I make sure Nicky boy is finished and not about to throw up again, then turn toward the voice, knowing damn well what I’m about to find. “I thought it was Pap’s eye appointment?”

“It was,” Nan huffs, crossing her arms against her chest with a scowl. “Don’t get smart.”

“They broke into your house.”

She narrows her eyes skeptically. “Oh, really?”

“You think I’d make that shit up?” I ask as I watch Pap wander in behind her. “Why’d you bring him down here?”

“I didn’t know what the hell was going on, and sometimes his crazy ass comes in handy.”

“It’s my cow,” the old man says, like he’s agreeing with her, and making all the sense in the world. Then he motions toward Adam. “Mine. I can milk it if I want.”

“Sure, Pap.”

Nan and I both watch in silence as he walks through the massive pool of blood then spins the alpha the same way I’ve been doing, the last of his blood arcing away from his body and hitting all of us, including Nicolas. Who’s on the verge of passing out.

“Moo, you big heifer.” Pap stops next to me and gives Adam another good spin, then grabs the nail gun from my belt, aims, and hits the alpha right between the fucking eyes on his next lap.

Guess the old man’s still got it.

“Great,” Nan growls as she makes her way toward us and slips in the puddle. “He’s going to want to do this again, you know.”

I nod slowly as Pap takes aim at Nicolas then starts backing up. “I know.”

“You gonna take him hunting with you?”

My eyes go wide as my batshit crazy grandfather proceeds to fire a smiley face into the beta’s head; one nail in each eye, a couple in his nose, then several that crack teeth and bone as they effortlessly hit their target.

“Maybe I will,” I say with a laugh as I shake my head. “I didn’t realize Pap was so good with a nail gun.”

Then my grandpa winks at me, blows the imaginary smoke from the business end, and tries to holster his weapon in his pocket, but shoots himself in the foot instead.

Maybe I won’t be taking Pap hunting with us any time soon, but I definitely need to tell my mates about this.

Not just my nutty grandfather having some weird moment of clarity, and not just Nash and Clayton.

I plan on telling all three of my mates what just happened. I’ll start with the break in to end with Wild Pap Hickok.

What a fucking night.