Page 30 of Unhinged
Silence stretches between us, thick and suffocating. Ike rubs a hand over his chin, his jaw ticking as he processes my words. When he finally speaks, he’s calm—too calm.
“Honey, are you sure you weren’t exactly where you needed to be?” He leans forward slightly, resting his forearms on his knees. “Kismet bonds are serious, girl. Maybe they’re not as bad as you think. You got off on the wrong foot.”
A sharp, bitter laugh escapes me before I can stop it. “They tied me to a chair and hit me, Ike.” I can’t believe he’s seriously defending them right now.
He doesn’t flinch. “I did worse to you during training. Don’t act like you don’t get off on it, Brydgett. I know you.”
“Ike!” I howl, my hands curling into fists. Anger rises like a wildfire in my chest, burning away the exhaustion.
He just shakes his head, a smirk tugging at his lips. “We ain’t blood, honey. I love you like we are, but I know violence is your love language.”
My stomach twists. “I can’t, Ike. I thought I was safe with a family and an alpha before, and look where that got me. A world of hurt.” I waver, but I force myself to meet his gaze. “I won’t make that mistake again.”
His expression softens just a fraction. “It also got you Judge,” he points out. “So don’t let all that hurt and anger make you forget that the worst time in your life brought you the best thing that ever happened to you.”
A lump forms in my throat. I hate that he’s right. I hate that despite everything, the reminder of Judge—my reason for surviving, my anchor—makes me hesitate.
“You’re right,” I murmur. “And I’m grateful for him every day.” I lift my gaze, my resolve hardening. “But I can’t let myself trust an alpha. Especially not three who have already shown they’re violent.”
Ike exhales through his nose, rubbing a hand over his beard. “Just don’t close a door that’s begging to be open, girl.” He stands, stretching. “Now, I’m gonna go see that boy of yours—he owes me a round of Uno.”
He leaves, and I sink back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. My thoughts spiral, the what-ifs circling like vultures.
What if Ike’s right?
What if I made a mistake?
I press the heels of my hands against my eyes, willing away the doubt clawing at my insides. I don’t run from my problems—I never have. But this… this feels like something I’m running toward just as much as I’m running from.
And I don’t know which terrifies me more.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
GEARS
I’m not sure what’s worse: the throbbing in my head or the fucking pull inside me that’s dragging me under.
I sit on the worn leather chair in the clubhouse, spinning my whiskey glass between my fingers, the ice clinking lightly, but the sound feels distant. My mind’s too busy to notice. It's consumed byher—Brydgett. That damn omega who’s been haunting me since the moment we took her, since the moment I decided I had the right to take whatever I wanted.
Acid and Arrow are pissed, and rightfully so. She's not just any omega. She's a fucking serial killer, a cold-blooded one, and I let myself get tangled up in her. I can still see her face, a mix of fury and terror, when we grabbed her. The way she fought. It wasn’t fear I saw, though—it was something more dangerous, something I couldn’t ignore. And now? Now, it's like I can't shake her off, no matter how hard I try.
Fuck.
I drag my hand through my hair, trying to steady my breath. My club needs me. My brothers need me. Arrow’s out there,scouring the city, looking for her with the rest of the crew. They’re in the wind, searching for the woman who might be the death of us all. But right now, it’s not the club I’m thinking about. It’s her. It’s Brydgett.
“Gears.” Acid’s voice cuts through my thoughts. His heavy boots hit the floor as he strides in, his eyes glinting with concern. The fucking bastard knows me too well.
“What?” I grunt, rough from the lack of sleep, from the weight of everything I’m trying to juggle.
“You good?” He leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms, looking every bit like the enforcer he is. But there’s something else in his gaze—a warning, maybe? Or just the weight of knowing that what’s happening inside me is a ticking time bomb.
“I’m fine.” I don’t even believe it myself. The words taste like sandpaper, harsh on my tongue. “We find her. We get her back.”
Acid raises an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “That so? You sure it’s just ‘find her and get her back’? Or is there something else going on?” He leans in slightly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I’m guessing there’s more and that it’s her that’s got you all worked up. You’re putting out that mango and patchouli scent. Been a while since I’ve smelled that on you.”
He fucking knows. He knows exactly what’s eating at me. He knows about the way I keep fucking thinking about her—her scent, the way her eyes burned with hatred, the way we had to restrain her just to get her to fucking cooperate. And yet, she still haunts me. Her blood is still on my hands, and I want to touch her again, taste her anger, make her burn like I am.
I scowl at him, shifting in my seat. I can’t tell him the truth. I won’t. Acid’s my best friend. He’s the one who’s always had my back, but this? This feels like a weakness I can’t afford.
