3. Dylan/ Whizz

DYLAN

I wokeup with a pounding headache, disoriented and surrounded by darkness. Blinking against the dim light, I realized I was in an unfamiliar and dilapidated house.

Panic surged through me as I tried to move, only to discover I was tied up, my wrists bound tightly.

The sharp sting of rope against my skin made me wince, and I struggled to remember how I had ended up here.

Glancing around, my heart sank as I saw two other figures beside me.

They were fellow omegas, bound like I was, their faces etched with the same confusion and fear that I felt.

My mind raced, desperately trying to piece together the puzzle of where we were and why we had been brought here.

My eyes darted to a broken window, a view of dense woods outside. Were we in the middle of nowhere?

Dread settled in my stomach as I considered the implications. The isolation amplified the danger, and questions swirled in my mind.

Who were our captors? Why had they taken us? My mind raced to find answers and formulate an escape plan.

I strained against my bindings, testing their strength, but they held firm.

I kept my movements subtle, not wanting to draw attention to my efforts.

My gaze flicked to the door, and I wondered if I could make a run for it when the opportunity arose.

My heart hammered in my chest, the urgency to escape overwhelming.

As I glanced back out the window, my thoughts spiraled. The men who had cornered me in the alleyway, they had matching tattoos.

Were they connected to this somehow? Were they part of some gang?

A shiver ran down my spine as I considered the possibilities, the danger of my situation becoming more real with every passing moment.

Suddenly, the door creaked open, and I froze. Four figures walked in, their presence casting a menacing shadow over the room.

My heart raced as I tried to read their expressions, to gauge their intentions.

My heart nearly stopped when I saw the blond shifter, the one with the baseball cap, walk into the room.

I recognized him from that alleyway, and dread tightened its grip on my chest.

Should I speak up? Ask him why he brought me here? But before I could gather my courage, another omega, his voice shaking, spoke out.

”I don”t know who you are, and I don”t care. But if you don”t take me back to my father, there”ll be hell to pay,” he said, a quiver in his tone.

The room fell silent, tension hanging in the air. But one of the captors quickly moved, shutting down the omega”s words with backhanded slap.

Fear clenched my gut as I weighed my options. Speaking out now might escalate the situation even further, so I opted to keep quiet, watching and listening as events unfolded.

The blond shifter, the apparent leader, stepped forward and addressed us.

”No one will find you here. Consider yourselves permanent guests of ours,” he said.

His words sent a chill down my spine, the gravity of our predicament sinking in.

Permanent guests? My mind raced, trying to comprehend the situation we were in.

But before I could process any further, one of the shifters grabbed me by the arm, his grip firm and unyielding.

My heart raced as panic surged through me. Was this it? Were they going to take me somewhere even more isolated, more dangerous?

I couldn”t afford to be complacent. As he started to lead me towards what I presumed was the basement, an intense determination ignited within me.

I had to escape. I had to find a way out, even if the odds were against me. My hands were bound but not my feet.

In a split second, as my captor”s grip loosened slightly, I jerked my arm away and bolted.

Adrenaline surged through my veins, blocking out the noise around me as I sprinted towards the nearest exit.

Every footfall echoed in my ears, and I could feel the eyes of the others on me. But I couldn”t look back, couldn”t hesitate.

The thought of being trapped, of being subjected to whatever fate awaited us, pushed me forward.

I sprinted up the stairs. But as I reached the top, my path was abruptly blocked by the blond shifter, a sinister smile twisting his lips.

He looked at me with cold amusement, as if he were savoring my attempt to escape.

”Where do you think you”re going?” he taunted, his voice dripping with mockery.

I panted, my heart racing, as I weighed my options. I was well aware of my own vulnerability in this situation.

My mind raced through the possibilities: fight, flee, or comply. The grim reality was that I was overpowered, outnumbered.

For now, biding my time seemed like the best strategy.

”Nowhere,” I managed to breathe out, my voice tense.

He gestured with a nod for me to turn back, his eyes fixated on me.

Reluctantly, I slumped my shoulders and began to retrace my steps, heading back towards the other captor who was waiting below.

As I descended the stairs once more, my anger and frustration simmered beneath the surface.

I felt like a pawn in their twisted game, and it was infuriating. But for now, I knew that playing along was the safest path.

The alpha waiting for me pushed me into a room, a cell devoid of windows, lit only by a single dim light bulb.

My heart sank as I took in the surroundings. The air was thick with a horrid smell, and it became clear to me that something had died here.

My stumbling feet met resistance as they brushed against something on the ground.

I gasped as my hand met something cold and hard—old bones. Panic threatened to rise within me as I realized I was standing in the midst of a grim discovery.

A chilling realization hit me as I touched the remains. A skeleton. The truth was inescapable, and a small, involuntary scream escaped my lips.

My initial fear was replaced with a rush of foolishness. I was being irrational. These bones could be anything—human or animal.

I took a step back, trying to regain my composure. But then something caught my eye—a glint under the bones.

Curiosity overriding my fear, I reached down and picked up a metal necklace, its pendant in the shape of a bear claw.

The cool metal warmed in my hand, contrasting with the eerie surroundings.

My fingers tightened around it. I pressed it close to my chest, as if it was a talisman that could protect me from my captors, from whatever grim future that faced me.

WHIZZ

As my fingersdanced across the computer keyboard, I reached for a potato chip.

Venom, my lead alpha, and the President of the Grizzly Reapers MC, needed this information about a potential client.

Usually, I was quick with requests, but that evening I was a little distracted. My concentration was broken by my ringing cellphone.

Glancing at the caller ID, I felt a surge of surprise and a twinge of nostalgia as I saw the name ”Marc” flashing on the screen.

Marc, was an old friend who shared a pain that only a few could understand—the pain of searching for a missing loved one.

I answered the call without hesitation.

”Hey, Marc. Long time,” I said.

”Whizz,” he greeted. ”I know it”s been a while, but I need your help.”

I leaned back in my chair, the familiarity of the conversation settling over me.

”Of course, Marc. What”s going on?” I asked.

His sigh crackled through the phone line.

”It”s happening again. The disappearances. In Greenfield and Stone Valley. This time, a kindergarten teacher named Dylan Riggs was taken in Greenfield and Mitch Osborn, an accountant from Stone Valley.

My heart skipped a beat, my fingers stalling on the keyboard. Disappearances.

Just like what had taken my brother, just like what had taken his.

The words echoed in my mind, a haunting reminder of the endless nights spent hacking into databases, chasing leads that always seemed to vanish.

Marc was a private investigator. He was good at his job just like I was. During his free time, he continued his search for his missing brother.

”Are you sure?” I asked cautiously, my mind racing.

”Positive. I”ve been following the news, connecting the dots,” Marc explained. ”These young men, they”re vanishing from their homes, Whizz. Just like how Jake and Tommy?—”

I finished the sentence in my mind, a heavy silence settling between us. Just like how our brothers had disappeared.

The memories of our shared pain surged to the surface.

I had come to terms with the possibility that I might never find my brother, that the answers might remain elusive forever.

But I couldn”t deny that the news struck a chord within me.

”You think there”s a connection?” I asked, my voice quiet.

”Maybe. It”s too coincidental to ignore,” Marc replied, his tone a mix of frustration and hope.

Marc continued, “I’ve hit a wall with my own investigation. You”re the best hacker I know, Whizz. If anyone can find out what”s happening, it”s you.”

I leaned forward, my fingers tapping rhythmically against the desk. A tangle of emotions knotted in my chest—fear, doubt, determination.

The thought of diving back into the world of investigations, of following the digital breadcrumbs, was both daunting and familiar.

”Marc, I”ve hit dead ends before,” I confessed. ”But for what it”s worth, I”ll look into it.”

”Thanks, Whizz. I appreciate it,” he said, gratitude evident in his voice.

As we ended the call, I stared at the screen, my mind already racing with possibilities.

Disappearances in two towns, a string of broken families left with no answers. Could I finally bring closure to my own search and help Marc find his brother?

I stared at my computer screen a moment longer, then decided I would finish the job at hand first.

Throwing myself at the task, I found a series of connections that illuminated the client”s past affiliations and activities.

After compiling the details, I printed my report out and sought Venom.

The noise of the MC clubhouse hit my ears as soon as I left my room.

If my best friend Piston was around, he’d drag me out of my room and convince me to have a beer or two downstairs.

But Piston was with his mate and nieces tonight.

I wasn’t certain if Venom was still in his office at this time of the evening. Seeing the lights in the room, a wave of relief filled me.

I knocked on the door.

“Come in,” came Venom’s usual disgruntled voice.

I entered, placed the information he requested on his desk, then took a seat. Venom raised one scarred eyebrow.

Normally, I left after handing him my report. This time I lingered, because I had a request to make of him.

Venom picked up the stack of papers and went through it quickly.

“Good work, Whizz,” he said. He set them aside then looked at me. “You want to talk about something else?”

I nodded. “I’ll be taking a few days off, starting tomorrow. Three at the most,” I said.

Venom furrowed his brows. This wasn’t the first time I’d taken some time off from the MC.

Only Venom and knew about Jake. I couldn’t even bring to tell Piston about my missing brother. Some wounds simply ran too deep.

“You have a new lead?” Venom simply asked.

I nodded, debating whether I should tell him about Marc’s call. In the end, I did.

There was no point keeping secrets from Venom and I trusted him without reserve.

When I was at the lowest point in my life, Venom appeared, telling me he had a use for my talents.

Over the years, Venom and the MC had become the family I never knew I needed.

Being in the MC, helped me retained my sanity and stabilised my grizzly half, who had never recovered from Jake’s abduction.

“Do I have your permission?” I asked.

“Of course. Do you need backup? Take Piston with you,” Venom suggested.

“No,” I automatically said. “Piston has been through a lot these last few months. It’s a simple investigation. I can do it on my own.”

“Very well,” Venom said. “Best of luck, Whizz. I hope you find something.”