Chapter Two
Lawson couldn’t control his rage. His wolf was on the verge of taking over, and he had to fight the urge to shift. Being chained to the wall, his wolf’s movements would be limited. He had a better chance in his human form of a possible escape.
The piece of shit guard deserved what he got. He hadn’t seen this male until today, but they were all the same. They waltzed in, demanded he shift, and when Lawson didn’t obey like a well-trained puppy, they resorted to beating the hell out of him.
Fuck ‘em all.
He knew what they were trying to do. Well…what they thought they were trying to accomplish and he wasn’t playing that game.
Fuck ‘em all.
The female screamed, and Lawson saw the other male running towards him. Yeah, this motherfucker with the tranquilizer gun didn’t have a clue. This male had been in his room many times, and always stood on the outskirts like a coward, watching Lawson take beating after beating with a smug expression on his face. He was about to feel Lawson’s wrath, and he was going to enjoy watching the lab tech piss himself.
As soon as the male was in reaching distance, Lawson crouched and swept out his right leg. The male quickly hit the pavement and Lawson grabbed his feet, pulling him towards his body. Seconds later, his chains wrapped around his captor’s neck and he could feel life leaving the male’s body as he squeezed with all his might. When the male’s lifeless eyes rolled back, Lawson released the body.
Another scream from the female had him turning to face her. Horrified green eyes pierced deeper than the countless needles they had stuck in him. He could smell her fear, not to mention, her sex. His sensitive nostrils hadn’t scented a female in a long time. It was overwhelming, and his body instinctively responded.
Primal need coursed through his veins and a low growl escaped his throat as his wolf prowled the surface, demanding to be released.
“Get out!” he shouted, yanking on the chains. “I’m not shifting for you, or, anyone else. Come near me, and you’ll be on the floor next to these two!” he barked, kicking the dead security guard in her direction.
She stepped towards him, arms outstretched in surrender. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t know about this area of the building. Let me help you,” she pleaded.
As she came closer, sweet perfume teased and tempted his body. His cock hardened, needing a release more than he needed air to breathe. He wasn’t even attracted to humans, but right now he was ready to strip her bare, bend her over and fuck the hell out of her.
Shaking beyond control, he swung out. Not to hit her but to scare her. If she stepped three more feet towards him, he would have the female in his clutches, and there was no telling what he would do to her.
“Fuck you, female. You wanna help? Unlock these,” he demanded, yanking on the metal cuffs again.
She hesitated, and Lawson wasn’t sure, but she seemed to be contemplating his words when suddenly she turned, fleeing the room. Part of him wanted to call her back and explain he wasn’t a cold-blooded murderer. Lawson didn’t like the horror he represented, but he didn’t see another option. He couldn’t be in her presence under such arousal.
Lawson tugged on the chains again, trying to break free. Not that he hadn’t spent every waking moment trying to escape but the door was ajar, and this might be the only chance he’d ever get. He had to get out of this hellhole. If he had to endure one more beating or unwillingly give one more ounce of blood, he might snap.
Long ago he had stopped counting the days he’d been in captivity. By his estimation, he had been imprisoned for at least two years, maybe more. He hadn’t had a hot meal, a hot shower or a warm bed the entire time. He was fed once a day, hosed down with ice-cold water once a week and slept on the dirty mattress without as much as a sheet to keep warm.
Determined he wasn’t spending one more night in the shithole, Lawson braced his foot against the concrete wall for better leverage. Taking a deep breath, he pulled on the heavy chains. Nothing. He tried again. Not even a slight budge to the fastener attached to the wall. He placed both feet on the wall and pulled until his arm muscles felt like they would tear from the tension.
It suddenly occurred to him the guard probably had his entry card. There was a small keypad at the base of the cuffs that locked them electronically. Everything in this damn place was linked through the security system.
Wishing he hadn’t kicked the guard out of reach, he walked as far as the chains would allow. He stretched and reached for the male’s feet. Finally, his fingers touched the leather boots, and he latched onto the soles. Pulling as best he could, he finally inched the male enough to where he could grab his ankles.
Yanking him to his side, Lawson quickly searched the male’s uniform. He could finally escape if he could find the fucking card. Elation filled his heart. He desperately needed to go home. His mom, dad, brother and sisters had to be worried sick. Did they think him dead? Were they safe? He knew others were being held captive because he heard the nearby beatings but he had no idea how many were there, or, if he knew them.
A curse left his lips when he found nothing in the guard’s front or back pockets. Fumbling with the jacket, it was difficult for Lawson’s large hands to search. Fuck, he was trembling with the urgency. Left side, empty. As he moved to the right pocket, a deep voice invaded his concentration.
“And, what the fuck do you think you are doing?”
Lawson looked up to see Jim Jensen…the spineless, dickless, crass son-of-a-bitch in charge of this whole operation. Lawson had fantasized of strangling him with his bare hands on more than one occasion. Five more males stepped inside his cell and Lawson’s bliss quickly deflated along with his hope of getting out of prison.
“Grab him, Kevin. Looks like our friend here has committed a crime,” Jim scoffed, rubbing his cleft chin in disapproval as he surveyed the bodies on the ground. Lawson would give a nut to punch him in that ass-shaped jaw just one fucking time.
Kevin stepped towards him, and Lawson lunged, baring fangs. As the group of males slowly circled him, Lawson crouched to a fighting stance. Odds stacked against him, Lawson decided if he were going down, he would go down swinging.
* * *
Throwing a ten-dollar bill towards the cashier, Liv rushed into the nightclub, still reeling from what had happened. She was scared to death and had reached for her phone a dozen times, torn between calling her boss, or alerting the police to what she’d witnessed. Ultimately, she decided to talk to Cassie before doing anything because frankly, she was disturbed at the idea her prominent company could be involved in something so heinous.
Scanning the floor, she spotted Cassie and sprinted to the booth where she was sitting. Plopping down across from her friend, Liv grabbed the drink sitting in front of Cassie and downed it. The tequila was a blowtorch, burning a path down her throat.
“Hey, what the hell? I waited fifteen minutes to get that drink,” Cassie shouted above the loud thump of the music. “And, you’re late. I’ve had to make sorry-ass excuses to three losers hitting on me. Where you been?”
“Girl, you have no idea. Where is that damn waitress anyway? I need a bottle after what I’ve just been through.” Liv explained, perusing the club for the familiar tank top sporting ‘SUCK ME’ across the chest of overly-enhanced breasts that typically worked at Popsicles, the local hot spot in Chattanooga.
“Well, spill it. It better be good though because that was the good shit you just downed. This is not date night, and I’m pretty sure you’re not putting out for me later,” Cassie exclaimed, smacking a piece of chewing gum.
“Quit your bitchin’ and listen to me. Seriously, you’re not going to believe what just happened at work,” Liv interjected, arms flailing with animation. “I just watched two men get strangled right the fuck in front of me. Dead. Do you hear me? Dead!” As she shouted the words, she could barely believe them herself.
Brown eyes bulged as if she admitted to being a heroin-addict smoking crack in a church. “Ummm, say again? I must’ve heard you wrong, Liv. Did you say…dead?”
“Yes! Dead. Two men. Dead! Like, as in, opposite of living,” Liv shouted, spotting an employee walking towards them. When Liv realized the tits in heels was bee-lining to the table of rowdy college boys, she sidestepped into her line of vision.
“I would like a bottle of tequila. Not a glass, but the whole damn bottle. And, I can’t afford the really good stuff so keep that in mind if you expect me to pay for it. Oh, and two glasses and some limes, please.” Liv spouted and plastered what she knew had to be a deranged smile on her face, trying to appear calm even though she was about to explode with anxiety.
“Sure, hun. I got you covered. Be back in a jiffy,” the blonde bombshell replied, typing on her tablet.
Liv exhaled, trying to gain her composure and then crammed into the booth beside Cassie. Everyone in the club would probably think them lesbians, but she didn’t care. She needed to talk privately with her.
“Okay, slow down and start from the beginning,” Cassie prompted and placed a comforting hand over Liv’s and smiled supportively. Liv couldn’t have asked for a better neighbor and friend than Cassie. They had been through everything together from celebrations to heartbreaks, and, if there was one thing Liv could count on, it was Cassie. She was the type of friend if Liv said she needed to get rid of a body, she would grab a shovel without hesitation.
Liv recalled the first time they met. She had been living in her home for about a week and heard pounding on the front door. When she answered, Cassie was standing there in a man’s t-shirt and nothing else, wanting to borrow honey. She later found out it was used to spread all over her and her boyfriend’s bodies. Needless to say, she told Cassie to keep it, but they became fast friends and partners in crime.
Snapping out of her memory, she gathered her thoughts before explaining the events from work. Once she started talking she couldn’t stop. She told her about the secret hallway, the shifters being held prisoner and about how the guard and other scientist had died at the hands of the man who then threatened to kill her. Odd thing was, she hadn’t believed him. His gray eyes held warmth and kindness even though he bared razor-sharp fangs.
“Holy shit! What are you going to do? Did your boss ever get back to you?” Cassie asked, as the waitress, Penny, approached their table and set down a bottle of Camarena tequila, two shot glasses and a small bowl of lime wedges on the table.
It was decent tequila. Probably going to charge double what she would pay at the liquor store, putting it a little out of Liv’s means, but at least she wouldn’t get sick or have a dreadful hangover the next day.
“Can I get you two anything else?” Penny asked inattentively, winking towards one of the guys at the table near them.
“No. We’re good, thanks,” Liv responded, and Penny quickly dashed to the muscle-head with the gorgeous smile. Turning her attention back to Cassie, Liv replied, “I have no idea. What do you think? Get the police involved? Call my boss and quit? I really need this job. Maybe the men weren’t dead but had only blacked out,” Liv suggested.
Truth was, she didn’t know for sure. She assumed because it happened so fast. Maybe she was wrong about them being dead.
“I wouldn’t call the police, especially if you might be wrong. That would get you fired for sure. Here’s what I suggest. Go to work Monday and act like everything is normal. You’ll know soon enough what went down. Hopefully, you’re mistaken about PRL. Jim seemed nice enough man when I met him at the picnic last year. Maybe you’ve let your imagination get the best of you,” Cassie explained as she poured each of them a shot and handed the logo-embossed glass to Liv.
Liv threw it back and grabbed a lime as her face contorted from the sharp taste. She bit down and sucked. Best combo ever. The tartness of the lime soothed her palette, and a warm buzz followed in its wake.
“You’re right. Fake it til you make it, right?” Liv quipped, pouring each of them another shot.
“I’ll drink to that!” Cassie shrilled, clinking the small shooters together.
Liv felt a vibration in her pocket and realized she was still wearing her lab coat. Okay, that was embarrassing as hell. No wonder no men had approached their table. They were the dorky lesbians getting each other off in the corner booth, she thought, as she reached for her cell phone.
“Oh shit, this can’t be good,” Liv blurted as she looked at the message on the screen.
“What? Who is it?” Cassie asked curiously.
“It’s Jim. He says he needs to see my first thing tomorrow morning,” Liv breathed, staring at her phone. She had a sinking feeling that the shit was about to hit the fan and she was standing in front of it, covered in manure.