Page 80 of Unchained

“Hurry, get in,” she said, as they reached the truck. Her mom ran to the passenger’s side, and Cam climbed into the driver’s seat. Her chest tightened as she buckled her seatbelt.

Her cheeks tingled and regret made her movements stiff. If she took off, the guys would be left with no way out.

Her mom’s cold fingers landed on her forearm. Cam turned in her seat and stared at her mom’s face, which was partially hidden in the shadows. Part of her needed to crumble. To unload everything onto the rock that was her mom. But she couldn’t do that . . .

How could she explain the feelings she had for Brooks after being with him for only a few days?

Her mom’s shoulders shook in the darkness, and she covered her mouth with her hand. “I-Isaac. Oh, God. Stacey would be devastated.”

Cam’s barrier, the only thing keeping the tears in, quaked. “Mom—”

“Do you think he’s still alive? Maybe . . .”

Cam shook her head. The image of Isaac’s brain matter spraying out the side of his head played in her mind on repeat. She closed her eyes tightly. Thank god her mom had been sitting with her back to Isaac and hadn’t seen the horror. “He’s gone, Mom. There’s no way he survived.”

Deep sobs wracked her mom, and Cam pulled her into her arms. “There was nothing we could do . . .” Saying the meaningless words felt like a punch to the gut.

“He was so lost,” her mom said, pulling away to mop her cheeks with the sleeve of her shirt. “So much anger. I think a lot of it stemmed from not knowing who his father was. Maybe if he’d gone to counseling—”

She caught her mom’s hand. “There’s no use thinking of what could have been. He’s with Stacey now. We have to focus on getting out of here, and then we can mourn.”

“You’re right. Let’s go.”

Cam started the truck, but her hand stayed attached to the key.

“Honey, what’s wrong?”

Cam’s chest rose and fell as she pictured Brooks trapped inside, held down and tortured. She couldn’t leave. He’d die, or worse—get taken to a lab and never be found again. If something happened to Brooks, she’d never forgive herself. She shifted in her seat and gripped her mom’s fingers. “I have to go back.”

“What? No. You can’t.”

“Mom—”

“This is about that man, isn’t it?” The question sounded free of judgment.

Cam wet her lips. “He’s been tortured for months. Almost a year. I freed him, and the doctor in the lab coat plans to imprison him and test drugs on him until he dies.”

Her mom’s hand fluttered at her chest. “We need to call the police.”

“We can’t.” Cam glanced toward the main road. Brooks might have called them, although that was unlikely. Rather than explain the sensitive background of Brooks and the Holmes brothers, she shrugged. “We don’t have a phone. Maybe someone already called them anyway.”

Her mom waved her off. “Go. I’ll wait.”

“No. You have to get out of here. Take the truck and head south on the main road. That will take you back to the city.”

Her mom nodded. “Wait. Take my shoes.” She slipped off her loafers and handed them to Cam.

Cam gratefully shoved her feet into the shoes and flung open the door.

* * *

Nash clapped Brooks on the back. “Time to go hunting.”

Brooks’s body flooded with gratification as he stomped out of the tent. His eyes adjusted to the darkness rapidly. As much as he hated having the synthetic drug coursing through his veins, his body responded to it really fucking well. A muscle in his jaw quivered. He paused outside the tent, tuning in to his heightened senses.

Huffing and panting reached his ears, faint, about fifty yards away. He narrowed his gaze in the direction his instinct pointed him toward and broke into a run. Pumping his arms at his sides, he navigated the forest. Leonetti’s scent—astringent and musty—reached his nostrils.

The flash of a white lab coat came into view. Brooks drove his feet faster into the earth.

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