Chapter 130
HANNAH
One of the perks of being imprisoned by your enemy is that you learn their weaknesses. All of them. Or at least most of them.
When you are dealing with a cunning man like Dawson, who always covered his tracks, even the slightest, seemingly unimportant detail was enough. Seeing me as a nobody, as too weak to ever be a threat to them, Dawson and Asher had never really taken plans to hide details of their movement from me when I was imprisoned by them.
Few people knew that Dawson was a golf addict. Every Thursday, without fail, even though there were so many important pack businesses to attend to, he played golf at his favourite golf course, a fancy place that allowed only the very rich and VIP clients to step foot into its walls.
Too bad for him that I knew exactly where the golf course was.
Which is exactly why I've sent my mates to get him.
I caught a movement from the corner—one of Alpha Wallace's guards sneaking a glance at his watch.
"Don't worry," I told him. "They'll be here any time soon. Shouldn't be long now."
The guard nodded and went to stand by the others. I glanced at my own watch.
Yes. My mates would be hauling Dawson's ass here any time from now because he would soon finish his game. I felt a cold smile curve my lips. I hoped, really hoped he would have a good game today because he would probably not be playing again for a really long time, not after what I planned to do to him.
The sun was hot, beating down mercilessly on all of us. I went to sit in the relatively cool car as I mentally counted the passing minutes.
I saw a brief movement in the distance across the deserted field. I was on my feet before I even became aware of moving. The guards with me spotted the movement a few seconds later. Not hurrying, I walked over to my former spot.
Soon, I saw the figures of four people walking. No. Not all of them.
Three were walking, and the fourth was being dragged along. A few more steps closer, and I could see their faces—Cade, Jace, and Chase.
There was a black bag over the head of their still struggling prisoner. One of the guards stepped forward, lifted a chair out of the trunk of the pickup we had come in, and set it down on the grass.
My mates' prisoner dug in his heels and elbowed Jace in the gut. Not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to piss Jace off.
"Son of a bitch," Jace growled, dragging him the last few paces and slamming him into the chair.
Another guard hurried forward with a thick coil of rope. Chase tied the prisoner up, finishing up with a bow tie in front. Then he stepped back, hands on his hips.
"He looks like a Lunar harvest present now, doesn't he?" he said, and the others burst into laughter.
I grinned. At my signal, Cade yanked the bag off my prisoner's head. Dawson gasped and blinked rapidly. He looked around, and when he saw me, his mouth fell open. Stayed open.
If he weren't threatening my life and the lives of the people I loved, I would have laughed at his comical look of surprise.
Dawson's throat worked convulsively like he was struggling to get his words out.
"You," he gasped, almost whispering. "You. You dare... you dare."
"Yes, I dare," I said, speaking slowly and deliberately. "What? Are you that surprised to see me?"
The surprise was leaving now, and anger—raw anger like heat from an oven—was emanating from him.
"How dare you?"
I grinned.
"Wrong," I said.
Cade cracked his knuckles and punched Dawson in the gut and in the face. His breath escaped in a hiss, and blood stained his lips.
Dawson turned the full force of his glare to Cade. "You will regret this," he hissed.
"Wrong," I said again.
Cade grabbed Dawson's hair, jerked his head back and punched his nose. Dawson, still breathing heavily, shook his head. His eyes were dazed with pain.
The sound of Cade cracking his knuckles again made him flinch.
Cade smiled and winked at me. "You know, I could really get used to this. Hey Dawson! Got anything else you want to say?"
Dawson fixed him with a glare. Other than that, his mouth, which was now dripping blood, remained shut. Jace and Chase burst into laughter, clutching themselves.
"Good," I said with a smile. "Now it seems we are finally getting along."
Dawson's eyes darkened but he said nothing. He must have gotten the memo.
"You must have a lot of questions," I continued. "You must be wondering why you're here and why we took you."
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