He walked around the side of the house, making sure the papers hadn't escaped the front yard, and entered the garage through the walk-thru door. He dug in his pocket for the key to the lock and stopped. The padlock was gone.
He glanced left and right and found the lock he'd put on the door that morning on the tool bench.
His skin prickled at the idea Grace had escaped. He couldn't lose her.
He pushed his way into the house, searching as he went through the kitchen. Heavy breathing came from the other end of the house. He jogged down the hallway, following his senses, and stopped in the opened doorway of his bedroom, only to find Grace pushed against the wall and a man holding his hand around her throat.
The man's head turned, and his gaze narrowed at the sight of Keenan. He braced, recognizing the man.
Four.
He quickly took in Grace's condition. The injuries on her face. The frantic wildness in her gaze.
“Motherfucker.” He lunged, tackling Four onto the floor.
He brought back his fist, hitting Four in the face, over and over. Blood sprayed up, splattering Keenan in the face.
Four bucked underneath him, dislodging Keenan. He scrambled up to a crouch, swinging his leg out, and knocked Four off his feet again.
He shoved his hand between the top mattress and the box springs, searching for the knife he had kept there before the switch, knowing Grace would miss it in her search of the house, and he could easily disarm her if she had found it. Making contact with the round handle, he wrapped his fingers around the knife and pulled it out without losing any time.
Four kicked out, connecting with Keenan’s jaw. His neck snapped, and he swung out wildly, creating space between them.
Four was unpredictable. A year ago, Four botched all the training exercises. He would remain conscious after severe shock treatment, exceeding the drug dosage, and the handlers continually failed at wiping his memories. To the Alpha Bio Project, Four was a failure.
He was dangerous and undisciplined.
And, he hurt Grace.
Keenan stalked forward, blood in his vision.
Four held his ground, hands up, ready to protect himself. Keenan never stopped. When he was close enough, he swung, slicing the blade of the knife through the air and making contact across Four’s chest, cutting through his shirt, leaving a trail of crimson.
“Son of a bitch,” muttered Four. “The project is over.”
“You’re not switched.”
“I’ll never let them control me.” Four shifted left and right like a boxer, keeping his gaze on the knife in Keenan’s hand. “It doesn’t have to be like this, man. We’re free. Nobody can stop us. We can have anything we want.”
Four retained his enhancements without the project successfully wiping his past. He should be locked up in the cave. He should've died under an avalanche of rocks, never to see daylight.
He rolled the knife handle in his hands. “You were supposed to be in the cave. How did you get out?”
“The handler sent me out seconds before the tunnel collapse with the explosion.” Four leered at Grace, looked at Keenan, back at Grace. "I've been in hiding, waiting, for a moment to work my way back into the town."
A growl erupted out of Keenan’s mouth, not liking the way Four looked at Grace. “You hurt her.”
Four's lecherous sneer pissed Keenan off. "She puts up a fight. I like a woman who—"
Keenan jabbed the knife into Four’s chest, holding the blade there as Four slunk to the floor with his eyes wide open, still daring him to put a stop to his insanity. Once he was down on the floor, Keenan pulled the knife out and wiped the blade across his thigh.
Sooner or later, Four would've died anyway. The AB Project wouldn't have allowed him to live.
At least this way, he was sure Four would never hurt Grace.
He stepped away from the dead man at his feet and turned toward Grace. Her cheekbone was swollen, and there was dried blood underneath her nose. She stared at him, making no move to sit up or move away from him.
He picked her up and carried her out to the living room. Putting her on the couch, he left her there and went into the kitchen. He grabbed two towels. One, he ran under warm water. The other one, he got as cold as he could before wringing out the excess water.
Returning to Grace, he cleaned the blood off her face and quickly held the cold towel to her face to combat the swelling. He dropped his gaze down her body, looking for any other injuries, and found her shirt ripped at the collar down past her breasts. There were red abrasions on her delicate skin, though no blood.
He clenched his teeth, wanting to kill Four all over again but slower and more painful.
"Are you hurt anywhere else?" he asked gruffly, anger still boiling inside of him.
She put her hand on her side and winced. He moved his palm over her ribs, taking in her breathing and ability to tighten her stomach in preparation for the pain that would come. Her lungs were fine. But Four could've easily bruised a rib or two.
"I don't think anything is broken." He brought her hand up and forced her to hold the wet towel to her face. "I need to get rid of the body."
She lowered the towel. "Don't leave me."
He stopped. "I'll come back."
In her condition, she couldn't get far if she tried to leave. He'd deal with the papers he'd found outside later.
He walked to the bedroom. A pool of blood stained the wood floor underneath Four.
Not wasting time, he hefted Four over his shoulder and carried him through the house and into the garage. Dumping him in the UTV, he strapped Four in to keep him from falling out of the small two-seat, off-road vehicle.
Making sure the shovel was strapped to the rack behind the driver's seat, he opened the garage door and then rode around the house to the backyard. His property backed the Idaho National Forest. Five minutes out, he could bury the body without any witnesses.
He stopped in a clearing, far away from the creek that flowed from the northwest corner. Doing quick work, he put shovel to dirt until he had a seven-foot-long rectangle carved into the earth. He wasn't worried about digging a deep hole. The wild animals could dig Four up and feast on him when he started to stink for all he cared.
All he needed to do was buy time. Grace needed taken care of. His club needed taken care of. The town needed taken care of.
Hell, he had no idea why he stuck around.
The loyalty inbred in him by the project toward his MC brothers disappeared with the switch. Chaos would reign down on the town as soon as each member came out of the changes happening, and they'd want to take their hurt and pain and betrayal out on anyone they faced.
Unlike him, he suspected a lot of them had wives or children they lost when the Alpha Bio Project ripped them from their previous life.
He lost nothing except himself.
He dragged Four the twenty feet to the hole and rolled him in. Making quick work, he covered the body and walked across the mound, tapping the dirt down.
Giving the makeshift gravesite one more look, he went to the UTV and rode home. It wasn't the first person he'd killed and buried. It wouldn't be his last.
Though he should feel something. The emotions he'd regained were there. He often got pissed. He'd felt fear. He had empathy for those who would suffer during the switch, knowing what they would go through.
But he felt nothing killing Four. The controller for the Alpha Bio Project was probably happier than shit that some of the training stuck.