Silas:We don’t care what y’all get up to. More importantly, what were the PAs doing in the club, Jupiter?
Jupiter:How the hell would I know? Having a good time, I suspect, away from you boring alphaholes. Now leave me the fuck alone because whatever they were or weren’t doing has nothing to do with you lot. Or me!
Taylin:Hollis is my mate!
Jupiter:Then if you take a damn second to pull your head from your ass, you’ll know he’s incapable of doing anything because you’re mated! Now if you lot have finished the Jupiter bashing part of the night, I’m going to finish living my goddamn life the way I choose.
Booker:Anyone know if we could find out if the others got home safely?
Kari:I’ll reach out to Bowie, he’ll have been sensible.
Taylin:You couldn’t be more wrong. He was as drunk as Hollis when he was here.
Kari:Is that right?
Kodi:What’s with you, bro? Something I’m missing here?
Silas:We’re all fucking missing something… our damn sanity since we got assigned these PAs!
They’d all gone to a sex club! The rest of the conversation was lost on Rue when he couldn’t get past why they—Monty—would go to a sex club like Sinful. Rue had been once and though he had different desires from the traditional, a sex club offered little titillation for him. Although he often wished he could be more like Jupiter, he wasn’t uptight or cared about what others thought about his sexual preferences.
Rue read the chat again, like a masochist, imagining the PAs getting fucking frisky with alphas in a sex club. Rue agreed with Silas. They had lost their minds, because what he was contemplating was utter madness. Despite the bone weariness invading his whole body, Rue went and showered in record time, dressed in the first clothes that came to hand, and grabbed his car keys.
Was it wrong to go into the HR database to find his PA’s address? Possibly, but fuck it… he needed…
Rue shut off his head, creeping out of the silent house with determination. He never gave himself any time to think about what he was doing as he drove down familiar empty streets. He gripped the steering wheel until it creaked under his white-knuckled grip, hyperventilating as his sneakered foot pressed hard on the gas pedal.
Outside Monty’s home, Rue stared up at the windows, seeing that a light was still on. Someone was clearly home.
Was Monty alone?
Fuck, this is stupid. If he’s home with someone… what then?
I’ll make the fucker leave.
Rue blanched at the violence of the thought, which had no place between him and Monty. They were work colleagues who cuddled once. That did not justify this kind of behavior.
It didn’t.
He comforted Monty, which was reasonable after Frey had talked in the restaurant back in Drinkwater after the disastrous factory visit, upsetting Monty.
Then what’s this?
Fucked if he could answer it when deep down, he knew that whatever it was, it would never be enough for him, for Monty, when Rue needed something the omega wouldn’t want. He’d tried coupledom, and it had failed miserably.
So why wasn’t he waiting until Monday to talk to Monty?
Turn the car around and head home, it’s what he should do. The emotional upheaval from the discovery at Drinkwater left him… vulnerable, old wounds exposed. A position he avoided at all costs, usually.
Why had he opened the group chat?
Fuck it, I’m here.
Do you want me to point out the obvious?His rhino side remained pissed at him for holding back in Drinkwater. It didn’t matter that the omegas remained scared. For his rhino—and if Rue was honest, for him too—those atrocities needed addressing. Except the six of Oakland’s men holding Booker back increased the stink of fear. Rue worked extra hard to hold his rhino in check, not wanting to add to the distressed tension flooding the factory.
No,he snapped at his rhino.
Exhaling sharply, he stomped up to the door leading to Monty’s apartment and pressed the bell, waiting.
