Page 41 of Met Your Mate

My brother shifts a little, finally realizing the misstep he made with that line of questioning. "Ronan," he grumbles. "Lucas Ronan Hart."

Casey looks at me immediately with a frown. I nod and say, "Ronan Lucas Hart."

A loud snort follows from the other side of the basement, just like I expected. Rolling my eyes, I wait for the jackass to add his unwanted opinions.

"Did your parents get lazy or something and just swap the names around when Lukey boy was born?" Beckett teases, still laughing.

Lucas just flips the alpha off and rolls his eyes. We're all used to Beckett's shitty humor and constant prickly sarcasm.

"I think it's cute," Casey says, glaring daggers at the blonde man through the mid-day light.

Elliott proves himself to be awake when his huff of laughter and bouncing shoulders draw our attention. At least the big guy can laugh still, I guess.

Lucas and I have always gotten crap for our middle names, but it feels nice to loosen the tension between all of us. Ever since the random check-in from the enforcer this morning, we've all been a bit anxious waiting for something to happen.

Lucas sighs. "Listen, assholes?—"

POP!

"DROP YOUR WEAPONS!"

POP, POP, POP!

"ON THE GROUND, NOW!"

Opposite of what the warning outside the door says, we're all on our feet and at the bars of our cells in a fucking flash.

Breathing hard, I try to refrain from flinching at each pop of gunfire going off on the other side of the wall. A wall that has seemed really fucking impenetrable but now seems flimsy as hell with each dust cloud and rock falling from the cracks as something bangs harshly against the door.

It's silent for a few breathtaking moments. I'm pretty sure all of our hearts have fallen out of our asses at this point, then I hear a voice that makes me truly believe for the first time in forever that everything will be okay.

"All clear," Remy's voice sounds through the door.

I couldn't tell you why my pack and the other two guys haven't shouted for help yet. Maybe it's shock, but when the locks on the other side of the door rattle, we all stiffen. Time and time again, that sound has only been followed by pain and deep anguish for everyone locked in here.

There's murmuring on the other side about keys and being ready for anything. Like it was scripted, the six of us take a step back when the door slams open for the second time today.

And in walks my best friend, aiming a gun at my chest.

"Remy," I choke, my voice thick and threatening to suffocate me.

For a small moment, I don't feel the incessant tug of the bonds driving me to make everything better because he came just like I knew he would. When my best friend lowers his weapon, I think he's about to rush to my cell, but he surprises me by pulling the damn trigger.

BANG!

Creeaak. My cell door inches outward a few inches.

"Jesus christ, Remy! You know better," his dad scolds, having walked into the room at the same time.

More curses fly around the room, and I admit the bastard scared the shit of me without giving us a warning, but I'm pushing the door wider and rushing toward him. With a grunt, Remy and I slam together and bang our fists on each other’s backs in the ultimate bro hug.

"Fuck, it's good to see you," I grumble, releasing him reluctantly, but the need to see my pack mates free is too strong.

Remy clears his throat, his hand squeezing my shoulder tight to get my attention. "Do you even realize how fucked this place is, dude?"

That sobers me and shoves me into action like nothing else. I'm whirling on my friend without thought and gripping the camouflage vest protecting his chest from harm.

"We have to find her. Now. Right fucking now, Remy!" I'm yelling, spit flying every which way until three hands land on my back.

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