“Can’t I?” Ash snaps.
I hold my hands up in surrender, stopping while we’re still in the more private back hallway of The Warehouse. “What’s going through your head right now, Ash?”
“I don’t know,” he sighs, his hands clenching and unclenching. “The guy I fought wasn’t a good enough fucking challenge, I guess. I still feel that itch.”
“To punch people’s faces in?” I chuckle.
“Yeah.”
“I think that’s a withdrawal symptom.”
“Well, whatever it is, it fucking sucks,” Ash sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Now are you gonna explain what the fuck that guy meant about girls?”
“I don’t know what happened with his cousin, but Frankie’sfamily ran clubs and stuff, you could pay to spend time with the girls there.”
“Omegas?”
“Yeah, some of ‘em, why?”
Ash’s jaw clenches. “I don’t like the idea of that being Mirabelle’s fate if she’d ended up being sold somewhere else.”
“I mean, where she ended up wasn’t all sunshine and fucking rainbows either, the farm sucked ass.”
“Butwewere there to protect her. We wouldn’t have been there if she was fucking sold somewhere else.”
I reach out and grip his shoulder, squeezing it.
“We could probably spend forever agonizing over all the what-ifs. What’s important is our omega is waiting for us out in that car right now, and we’ve got enough cash to upgrade from that cheap-ass motel. Let’s focus on that, okay?”
Ash rolls his shoulders back, shrugging off my hold and nods.
“I fucking hate it when you’re right,” he mutters.
I bite back a grin, but apparently not well enough, considering the glare Ash shoots at me.
“Wipe that fucking smirk off your goddamn face before I wipe it off for you.”
“Smirk? What smirk!”
“With the concrete,” Ash says through gritted teeth, rolling his eyes.
I see the sparkle in his eye. I think I’m growing on him.
Good.
My family never felt like much of a family. I was always the one taking care of everyone and everything. I guess it’s nice that my efforts with my newfound pack and bondmate actually mean something.
The two of us make our way out to the back parking lot.
“Hey,” Rowan says, hopping out of the front seat of the car.
He’s still got a bit of a limp, but he tries his best to hide it. Ithink it’s a pride thing, especially since the rest of us heal so much faster.
“You didn’t have to get out for us,” I say, reaching out and tugging him under my arm.
“Get off of me, you’re all sweaty and shit,” Rowan says, shoving at my chest.
“Aw, I’m not that bad,” I laugh.
