Pierson's POV

"Get everybody in the meeting room now," I bark at one of my strategists as I hussle down the stairs.

I walk quickly and push through the tall wooden door that leads to the room.

A few people are already here. They were probably discussing some things before I barged in.

I pace the front of the room and wait impatiently for my team. A few flood in at what seems to me a tantalizing slow pace. It makes me grow more irritable.

"Pierson what's going on?" Jake asks as he sets foot into the room. He moves to stand in front of me.

I look to him and brace myself for the scene that will probably take place once I tell him about the girls. I know how he is. He becomes irrational and doesn't listen to anybody when he's mad or upset.

"Rachel and Elena are gone Jake," I start.

His expression morphs into confusion clearly not getting the problem.

"Ok. Where did they go?"

I sigh heavily. Come on Jake. "They were taken. Most likely by the rogues," I answer calmly.

His face pales considerably and his mouth falls in surprise to the bad news.

He stays planted in his spot and doesn't say a thing. His eyes move to the floor and then back to me, repeating the process twice. This is not the reaction I was expecting. I thought tables would be flying or something of the sort.

I study him closer. Why does he look so...guilty? His eyes continue to evade my own and his hand goes to the back of his neck rubbing it harshly.

"I have to tell you something," he says lowly.

I don't say anything. I figured he did.

"Rachel was once part of the rogues, but she's not anymore. That was a long time ago and it wasn't something she wanted." The words spill out of his mouth in such a rush that most of them jumble together making it hard to decipher what he just said.

I concentrate on the sentences and as the words start to make sense a boiling heat creeps from the tip of my toes to the top of my head. The rage sparks every nerve ending in my body.

"Don't be mad. I wanted to tell you, but I know that you would have sent her away or maybe even tried to hurt her. She's still my mate and I couldn't let that happen," he tries.

I move so fast Jake doesn't even see it coming. I wrap my hand around his throat and watch as the fear spreads over his features. I push him up against the nearest wall.

"What about my mate Jake. Huh? She could've been killed. She could get killed now," I roar. I'm faintly aware of the men gathering around the scene before them.

"I promise you Rachel never intended for this to happen. It was her who helped defeat them the first time. She was the one who planned it. She had nothing to do with Elena getting kidnapped now," he chokes out. I grip harder. His face is a beet red. He sucks the air trying to get anything he can.

"Just think about it man. If it weren't for her, there would've been no way you would've defeated the rogues. You're my best friend. You're my brother. I would never want anything to happen to you, but I also couldn't let anything happen to her. You guys are my family," he says softly.

The sincerity in his voice has my grip loosing considerably. I try to calm my laboured breathing. I process his words and let his throat go. I turn away as the hurt washes over me. This fight won't help anything.

"Pierson," Jake calls.

I don't turn back around. "Let's find the girls. We can talk about this more later. Right now getting them back is my main priority," I say montone.

I turn my head back to the room stopping anything else he wanted to say.

I open my mouth to discuss the situation at hand. After giving the details the room erupts with chatter and all kinds of emotions. After settling down we go over the plans we have come up over the months.

Jake sits quietly beside me before he perks up with bright eyes.

I furrow my brows at him in question.

"The chip Pierson. Rachel never got the chip removed," he smiles. "She kept it in case anything ever happened."

Hope suddenly fills me.

*****

Elena's POV

I look over and see the beads of sweat on Rachel's forehead. She is pale and her breathing is labored.

She looks over at me and raises the corner of her lips in an attempt to give me a reassuring smile. It doesn't work. It instead makes me worry more.

I need to do something. I just can't let her die here. I look around the room and see one of the men sitting on a chair he's brought in. He's reading a magazine that has a beautiful women covered in tattoos on the cover. All that covers her body is the intricate ink and the placement of her slender arms and long legs.

I move to Rachel and the man's eyes look up and follow. I move my hands to her make- shift bandage making sure I look like I'm checking on her wound. He gives us a once over before resuming his activity.

"I think I know how to get us out of here," I whisper.

She gazes at me curiously. I flick my eyes to the the door indicating for her to follow them.

She peers around me obviously confused at what I'm looking at.

"We're going through that door." It comes out confident unlike what I'm actually feeling.

She looks at me blankly. "How do you suppose we do that with sasquatch sitting there?"

I glance at him again and he seems totally engrossed in his magazine. He doesn't seem to be paying us any mind.

"I got a plan," I suggest nonchalantly while giving her a one shoulder shrug. There's a 50/50 shot it may or may not go in our favor. I don't know about her, but I'm willing to gamble on those chances.

She lifts one eyebrow in a manner that's asking if I really have a plan that's gonna get us out of here in one piece or if I have a plan that's gonna get us into more trouble than we are already in.

I'm not sure, but hey we don't know what's going to happen to us anyway so why not steer the wheel of our fate ourselves.

"Look, you just need to act like you're gonna die ok?" She looks at me puzzled. After giving her a brief run down of what I have in mind she agrees.

I take a deep breath in and close my eyes getting ready to put on the show of my life. After a few seconds I open them back up and feel ready. Ready to face what lies ahead.

"Help! She needs help!" I yell. The sound echoes throughout the empty room making my cry sound three times as loud.

In the background I faintly hear the man's magazine flop to the floor. He was most likely surprised by the sudden sound he dropped it in the process.

A few seconds later I hear two shoes pounding against the hard floor matching the loud thump in my chest. The sound grows louder as he grows closer.

I yelp in pain as a hand fists my hair and cranes my neck back harshly.

"What the hèll do you think you're doing you stupid bìtçh," he seethes through his yellow teeth.

His breath reeks and my stomach churns at the smell. Memories flash behind my eyes of my father doing this exact thing on so many occasions during my teenage years.

My automatic response is to stay quiet and do as he says. I'm trapped in my teenage body again. I feel small, weak, and helpless.

He yanks hard again prompting me to answer.

No, this isn't the old you Elena. You're not weak. Life is different. You're different from that girl back then. You have to make it out of here. A future that you have always hoped and wished for awaits you.

"She needs help. She's bleeding out too much and too fast," I exhale. It takes all that I have to ignore the throbbing ache in my head. He looks at Rachel and she puts on quite the show. Not that she really has to try hard considering that her life is in real danger.

She clings to her wound clenching her teeth so hard it looks like she may break them. She looks like she'll may pass out any second.

His chapped lips craft into a devilish grin. "And why do I give a shįt," he draws.

The venom laced in his voice makes me want to scratch his eyes out.

"She'll die." You dumb nut. "I know for a fact you'll be the one to clean up the mess and you'll be the one stuck in here with me and her body stench until your lazy ąss decides to do so," I fire back.

He grips my hair harder at my words. The stretching of my scalp becoming almost unbearable. "All I need is a sewing kit. That's it. I'll stitch her up with that and that'll be it. We won't be a bother to you anymore, " I try in a more submissive tone this time.

His hand stays in my hair for another minute before I'm pushed forward. I put my hands in front of me to catch myself.

He looks at Rachel who is still clenching her teeth and groaning out in pain. He rolls his eyes and reaches his hand into his pocket to grab his cellphone.

He pushes a few buttons before bringing the device to his ear.

"Bring me a small sewing kit," he says gruffly to whoever is on the other side of the phone call before ending it and putting the phone back in his pocket.

He gives us one more look of disgust before moving to the door.

Not even two minutes later the door opens and another man hands him what we've asked for and leaves.

He closes the door and walks back to us before tossing the kit at our feet. He then moves back to his chair and opens the magazine once again.

I grab it. "Lay back I'm gonna stitch you up real quick." Rachel nods her head and does as I say.

I pick up her shirt and grab the bloody cloth shes been using to try and clean it up as much as I can. I open the kit and grab the string and scissors. I make quick work on her as she winces out in pain.

I admire my work afterward. "It should work for now."

"Thank you." She gives me a grateful look. I smile at her in return.

I hold the kit in my hand and grab for the scissors again. My hand shakes as they lie in my sweating palm. Their small in size, maybe three inches at most, but they've never looked so intimidating.

My eyes flicker to Rachel and she offers me a reassuring look. I breath in deeply and exhale trying to calm my frantic nerves.

I wrap my fingers around them so tightly making my knuckles turn white and look over my shoulder once again to see my victim.

I stand up with the kit and make my way towards him. He glances up from his magazine. I extend my arm holding it out for him to grab.

Just as the tip of his fingers touch the plastic of the container I move my other arm from around my back so quick that he never sees it coming.

The scissors make perfect contact with his eye and in an instant a loud, painful groan sounds from him.

He stumbles back and lands with a thud on the ground. I see the small scissors sticking out from his eye. The blood starts to trickle down to his cheek. After my initial shock wears off I move to him and kick him in the groin.

He crys out again and curls up into a ball. The veins on his neck protruding as he calls out in pain.

Rachel hands me my bloody cardigan she's been using for her wound and we both turn him over and she ties his hands behind his back with the sleeves of it. She does so tactfully and I'm actually impressed by it.

I raise an eyebrow at her and she shrugs one shoulder. "Girl scouts," she answers. My smile lifts my lips.

"You stupid bîtches!" He yells.

Rachel takes off her shoe and then her sock before she stuffs the piece into his mouth. I turn my nose up in disgust.

His voice is now muffled. Hey what works works. His body begins to morph into his wolf and I panic. We definitely do not want that.

I go behind him and wrap my arm around his neck making sure to get his windpipe in the crook of my elbow and apply pressure with my arms. He thrashes beneath my hold but after ten slow seconds his movements stop. I let him go and his body falls limply.

Rachel's expression morphs into one of horror. "What? I didn't kill him. I just knocked him out." I roll my eyes.

"H..how did you learn to do that?" She says still shocked.

I shrug. "Medical school." They didn't exactly show us how to knock out someone like a UFC fighter, but I know blocking the windpipe leads to no breathing which then leads to becoming unconscious. If I decided to restrict it longer than for sure he could die, but I know the limit. I hope.

"Let's try and move him away from the door in case he wakes up. Someone might hear him."

She reaches for his legs while I take his torso. I'm not incredibly strong and Rachel is still in a lot of pain so it takes us a few minutes.

When we finally make it I grab Rachel's arm and pull her to the door.

My hand touches the knob and I look at her. She looks at me back hesitantly. "We've got this," I say determinedly.

I pray that those words are true.

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