Page 20 of The Awakening

Dean lunges for the man, grips his collar, and hoists him up, slamming him to the wall. No one has enough time to react. The fury that has been unleashed is the darkness that resides deep inside Dean.

“Six fucking months! We could’ve been searching for him! Six fucking months!” Dean’s voice travels throughout the small room, pure rage coursing through his body. Just as he lifts his fist in the air, Everett grabs Dean from behind, trying to pull him away from the man’s face. As quick as Everett is, Dean’s sheer strength is at a new level after hearing this news. Dean’s knuckles make contact with the man’s nose. The audible crunch of bones cracking splinters the air, and I wince at the sound. Blood pours from his nose as he grabs his face with both hands, backing away to the door and disappearing down the hall.

“Dean! Dean, relax, mate! We need to pull it together if we’re going to find Colson!” Everett bellows at Dean, getting in his face and trying to pull Dean out of his state of rage. I pinch my eyes shut and take a few deep breaths as the realization of Colson possibly being alive fills my soul even more. A hand gently lands on my shoulder, giving me a small squeeze as I open my eyes to Arno standing beside me.

“How could I have been so stupid?” he whispers to me, his head lowers toward the ground, pain evident across his face. “I should have known; I should have seen the signs. I should’ve checked his identification myself. This is my fault too, Sloan. I’m so sorry.” I turn to face him, his hand falling away from my shoulder.

“Look at me, Arno. If this is your fault, then it’s my fault too. I did exactly what you told me not to do. I let my emotions take hold of me and because of that, I missed all the signs. We can make it up to him and find him, save him, and bring him home.” His dark eyes meet mine; his brows pinch together, causing small creases to form on his forehead. He gives me a slight nod before lifting his head to Everett and Dean, where Everett is still trying to calm Dean down.

“Hey, you two, shut the fuck up, and let’s get to finding Colson! Arguing and complaining about our mistakes won’t get us any closer to finding him. Pull yourselves together, and let’s get to work.” The smile that creeps across my face at Arno’s words fills me with the hope that Colson could very well be alive.

Colson, alive.

I turn myself around, facing my guys as they slowly bring themselves down from their justifiable fit of rage. Looking at Dean, I can visibly see the tension ease from his shoulders as Everett rights his shirt from where Dean was clutching it. I step closer to the two of them, giving them both a sympathetic look.

“What do we know? We know the location of their compound. We know they have an underground tunnel system that allows them to move around undetected. We know who has him, we know another player in their game, and we know they still have Colson. My thoughts are he’s still on the compound somewhere, just not in the same holding room as you were in last time. They don’t know that we know they have a tunnel system. We need to infiltrate their underground network and determine where they could be holding him and why.” As I speak, I look between all three of them. Their expressions are pensive as they take in all the information I’ve listed. With a nod, Dean takes a step towards me. His steel-gray eyes are sharp as he stares deep into my eyes.

“You’re right, baby girl. You’re absolutely fucking right.” He cups my cheek with his hand and gently brushes his thumb across my skin. After a moment, he drops his hand and turns to Everett.

“We also know that Cal is definitely involved now. Which leads me to believe that his ties with the Irish mob are deeper than we initially thought.” The sound of keys on the laptop has me turning to see Arno. He’s sitting at the table, his large frame hunched over as his fingers type away a mile a minute.

“Before we arrived at the compound, we had surveillance being run from our team. Maybe I missed something on the footage we collected from the outside of the building that could tell us more about their blueprints of the compound,” Arno says to the room, not looking up from the computer screen as his fingers continue clicking away at the keys. Dean takes up the seat beside him, and before I grab a seat myself, I turn to see Everett, his far-away gaze causing me to stop.

“What is it?” I say to him, making my way over to where he stands. He doesn’t answer me right away, instead his eyes seem to be glossed over. His thoughts take him somewhere other than this room. He seems as if he’s holding his breath, and when I place my hand on his chest, he flinches, his eyes snapping down to me.

“Are you okay?” I whisper, his chest finally rising with a deep inhale of a breath. “What are you thinking about?”

He places his hand over mine that’s still resting on his chest.

“What if we were all supposed to be switched with decoys? What if that was the plan all along, but you all got to us before they could finish swapping us out? What if they knew you all were coming—they anticipated the rescue and planned for it?” I tilt my head at his theory. It makes sense, but it still doesn’t answer the question, why?

“It’s possible, but why go to such great lengths to find decoys that look identical to you three? What’s the purpose of that?” The sound of typing stops as Dean and Arno listen to Everett’s theory. No one speaks. The silence grows deafening as the four of us try to find an answer to this question. I start pacing the room, my mind racing with possible answers, but none really feel accurate. Why switch my guys out? What is the possible gain for Cara by doing such an extreme act? Colson. Dean. Everett. What did Cara want in the first place? What is her end game?

Me.

I stop moving. My heart picks up speed as realization dawns on me. The whole reason for the meeting in the first place was to learn my whereabouts. She wants me. She wants to eliminate me, so she and Cormick are the only two others who will inherit the Wallace family fortune. She will then become the leader, the head of the mob itself. She knew after taking my guys, there would be repercussions, so she had a plan already in place for when that happened. However, we were too quick for her plan to be completed. She was only able to successfully swap Colson for his decoy, but if she had the right amount of time, she would have done so with Dean and Everett as well.

I clap my hands together, causing the guys to turn their attention to me. Whirling around, I can’t help the smile that starts forming on my face.

“I know why she wanted to swap out the three of you for decoys!” My voice travels through the room, my voice almost a shout as excitement bubbles in my chest. “What does Cara ultimately want? What does she have that would allow her to get close to me without being in my presence herself?” I pause, allowing the guys to catch up with my train of thought. “What would be the benefit of her swapping you three out and allowing us to rescue who we would have thought was the real you? You see, it makes sense!” I run over to the table and stand on the opposite side, allowing me to see each of their faces as I continue to explain. “If she was able to swap Dean and Colson out with look-alikes, she would also be able to switch Everett with Callum!” Dean and Everett instantly look at each other, their eyes growing as round as saucers.

“Wait, Callum? As in your twin brother, Callum?” Arno is shaking his head in confusion, and I quickly realize he hasn’t seen the footage of Callum in the trap door yet. I quickly grab the laptop, spin it around, and load the video where the guys discovered Callum hiding beneath the coverage of the door.

“What the fuck, mate? Your brother is linked in with Cara and the Irish mob? You know what this means, don’t you?” Arno asks the table, now making me a little confused as to what he means. I shake my head, as do Dean and Everett. “If your brother Cal is with Cara, as in together with Cara, he will be inheriting a position in the mob with Cara. That could have been his plan all along. Seduce Cara and trick her into thinking he loves her, only to inherit the Wallace family fortune once all the other players have been eliminated.”

I rub my temple with my hands as an intense headache builds inside my skull. What the actual fuck. If this theory is right, then this whole situation I’m currently in is all because of power, money, and status. Money will make people do some crazy shit, but this plan is so intense and so elaborate that it’s truly hard to believe. Callum had all his chest pieces in a row and played his game, always three moves ahead of us.

“It’s plausible, yes. This all just seems so above Cal with so many moving parts and details that it’s crazy to think that he constructed this elaborate plan. From setting the job up for Sloan, sending her to Stone Fortress—which is still confusing to me—to sending her to the warehouse.” Everett pauses, his head lifting a bit higher from the table as his eyes dart from Dean and me. “What about Van?” I can’t help my mouth falling open at the sound of Van’s name. To be honest, I’d forgotten about him until now. Why is he connected? I let out a long sigh as I get to my feet and start pacing the room once again.

“This is all so confusing,” I mutter, mainly to myself, but Dean responds with an agreeable huff. He stands and makes his way to the fridge, retrieving four water bottles and placing them on the table. I grab mine, twisting the top and chugging half of the ice-cold water.

“We know Van is connected to Stone Fortress. What if he was merely a pawn in the grand scheme of things? Van isn’t the smartest of the bunch—we know that. Maybe it’s simpler than we think. Callum meant to be there that night you were being auctioned off. What if Van was the middleman to get to Sloan? Van could have been the man to unlock the door to the auction where Callum would have had the chance to get Sloan in a way that seemed legitimate,” Dean says to us all, his lip curling in a snarl at the mention of Van. If we ever find that man, I can’t even imagine the death that Dean has planned for him.

I take a seat at the table and place the almost-empty water bottle in front of me as I watch a drop of condensation start trailing down the side of the plastic. Closing my eyes, I try to remember the last time I saw Colson, the real Colson, alive. What he said to me before leaving the castle and heading to the meeting in Ireland. He promised he would come back; he promised me. Today seems as if it’s been the longest day of my life. The simulation, Colson not being dead in his grave, Callum and his cruel intentions. Everything comes flowing in on me at once.

My chest starts to ache as if my sternum is closing in on me, causing my ribs to splinter within. Where are you, Colson? What have they been doing to you this whole time?

“He must think we’ve forgotten about him.” A sob escapes my throat as a lone tear falls from my eye. “Six months. He’s been somewhere for six months. God only knows what they’ve been doing to him just to learn my location.” I can’t open my eyes. Images of his beautiful hazel eyes, long blond hair, and golden skin skate through my vision.

---