Page 32 of Unhinged
I step into the kitchen, the scent of coffee and frying bacon mixing with the familiar scent of musty gym gear, a strange comfort. Ike’s home is nothing fancy—just a small two-story house tucked away in a quiet part of the country. There’s a gym in the basement, complete with a heavy bag that’s seen better days, a few weights that are rusted at the edges, and a lot of old equipment that Ike refuses to throw out. It’s where we trained after I earned his trust and moved from the gym to his house.
"You good?" Ike startles me. He’s standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame with that knowing look in his eyes. He doesn’t need to ask; he already knows. But he does it anyway, like he’s still trying to read me in a way that no one else can.
I give him a tight nod, not trusting myself to speak. I don’t want to talk about it. Not now. Not with everything so close to the edge.
Ike crosses the room in a few long strides, his boots making a soft thud against the old wood floor. "You know you don’t have to keep running, right?" he says, gruff, but with a softness underneath that I rarely hear from him.
"I’m not running, Ike." The words feel like a lie the moment they leave my mouth. My eyes dart toward the window, the curtains pulled tight against the world outside, but the feeling of being watched is suffocating me. It’s like I can feel them, Gears and the others, out there somewhere, looking for me. Looking for us.
I turn away, trying to shake the thought. "I just need to figure things out."
Ike grunts, a sound that says everything he’s thinking. "I know you do. But running... that’s not the answer, kid."
I hate when he calls me that. "Kid." Like I’m still the same scared young omega he found on the streets all those years ago. Like I haven’t changed.
But I have changed. I’m not that person anymore.
I was a mess back then, barely clinging to my sanity. Ike took me in when I had nothing. He showed me how to fight—not just with my fists, but with my mind. He taught me to stalk, to move in the shadows, to kill when necessary. Every lesson was hard, grueling. But it made me strong. It made me capable of surviving in a world that had been cruel to me, to Judge. It’s the reason I’m still here, still alive, while the people who once controlled me are long gone.
He gave me the skills I need, even if I didn’t want to use them.
The sound of Judge’s laughter breaks through my thoughts, and for a moment, I allow myself to relax, to smile. I look over my shoulder at Ike, and there’s something in his eyes that’s different from the usual hard exterior he wears.
"I can’t let my guard down, Ike," I whisper. "I can’t. Not with Judge. He can never know about him." My voice cracks on the last sentence. I hate that it does. I hate that the thought of him makes me feel weak.
Ike’s eyes narrow, and he steps closer, his hand resting on my shoulder. It’s a simple touch, but it grounds me in a way I don’t expect. "You’ve got fight in you, Brydgett. I’ve seen it since the day I met you. And I know you’ve got the strength to deal with Earl. But don’t do it alone. You don’t have to now, not if you don’t want to."
My stomach drops at the mention of his name. I glare at Ike, my chest tightening. “Don’t say his name.”
Ike fires back without missing a beat. "A name doesn't have power, Brydge. You say his name and tell yourself he doesn't have power over you anymore. You've been safe all these years, and if he does show up, you know how to handle him now. You're not some weak omega going through her first heat, hoping the people who should love you will help. You're Brydgett Hale. I gave you my last name because you are strong and worthy enough to carry it. You owe the Osbournes nothing."
His words stick with me, gnawing at the edges of my mind. But there’s a part of me, deep down, that knows he’s right. I can’t keep running forever.
But if I face my Kismets again… If I let them close, if I give in, then I risk everything. Not just for me. But for Judge too.
I won’t lose him.
But I know that the time to choose will have to come soon. Sooner than I want it to. The pull is getting stronger, and I can feel it in the way my heart skips when I think of them. When I think of Gears, of Acid, of Arrow.
I can’t let myself fall back into that world. But the harder I fight it, the more the bond burns through me.
I take a deep breath and step away from Ike, my eyes moving toward the living room where Judge is still lost in his game.
“I’m not asking for your help, Ike,” I say quietly, the strength returning to my words. “But I will protect him. I will protect Judge. No matter what.”
Ike nods, his face hardening, but his gaze softens just a little. He knows the stakes. And even though he’d never admit it, I know he’s proud of me. But I can’t afford to let that pride be the thing that breaks me.
I can’t afford to let anyone close.
At least, not anymore.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
ARROW
I stand in front of the run-down apartment building, the stench of decay and piss hitting me the second I step off my Harley-Davidson Iron 883. The yellow paint job gleams under the low, gray sky, and it’s the only thing about this shitty part of town that doesn’t feel like it’s decaying. Everything else around here feels like it’s given up, forgotten. Just another corner of the city no one wants to talk about—the places you go when you’ve fallen through the cracks.
The shitty apartment gave us nothing. No sign of her, no leads. I’m starting to feel like I’m chasing ghosts. There’s no solid trace, just fragments. She’s playing a game with us. Like she’s always ten steps ahead, pulling strings while we’re stumbling through the mess she’s left behind.
