“Excuse me.”
“No, no excuse me. I'll keep this brief. I've got better things to do,” I say not only to stroke my ego but more importantly to ground theirs. Their faces are shocked, their eyes go wide, and their lips thin into straight lines. I can admit it does make me a little happy. “I'm Noa's Alpha.”
The line makes them grimace. I can see the fury building between her father's eyebrows, and all I do is smirk. They know there's nothing they can do now to save their darling little daughter from the big, bad, loyal, and caring alpha who their daughter has blessed with her presence.
“As her alpha, I wanted you to know how serious I am regarding her well-being. Check your email.” Her father doesn't listen at first, but her mother does. The speed at which she whips out her phone is one that I know so well, one that I've seen my own mother do.
I watch her face as realization dawns on her. It's like a wave of water running down her face as her eyebrows drop and her eyes darken, the skin melting into a sheen of worry.
She doesn't look at me; instead, she looks up at her husband. Her expression says it all. Her husband then looks at me, confused and angry. Just how I wanted them to.
The little plates of croissants with butter and finger sandwiches are completely forgotten as Noa's father takes the phone into his hands. Honestly, their little community, a neighborhood of wealthy families with entirely too much time on their hands living within the “safety” of their gated homes made it entirely too easy.
Someone runs a gossip page, a weekly newsletter that goes straight to everyone's email with all the dirt and gossip they have on each other. However, one family is never mentioned. How funny is it that it's the Odettes who are the authors of this little gossip page.
It took a little maneuvering from my buddy Miro, a beta out in Michigan who knows a thing or two about technology, but we were able to break into their newsletter programming and send out one of our own. One filled with evidence, including photos, of them selling out not only their omega daughter, which is not as much of an outrage in this community, but also their under-the-table dealings in their banking and businesses. Showing their little community of one-uppers, the Odettes were selling the whole neighborhood promises they cannot keep.
We shared how the Odettes sold their daughter to the Fallons for half a million dollars, how they couldn'tsatisfy that deal, no thanks to us, and how the Odettes were the cause of the Fallons’ untimely exit from this earth.
The newsletter had two goals: the first was to ensure the Odettes stayed away from Noa. The second was that the community would understand the consequences of messing with what's mine.
I watch the panic set in. They rise from their chairs, grab their coats and throw bills onto the table. As they leave, I can't help but throw out, “Noa won't miss you.”
Knowing that they'll probably read that newsletter a million times, I added a little something at the end, something they probably didn't see today but will tomorrow.
And it can get much worse- Love Thorne.
Now I could get in trouble with the authorities since I signed the newsletter, but that would also bring out that they sold a human being, which would mean jail time for them.
I can't guarantee that they'll never contact me again, but I can say they've been warned.
I take a bite from one of their finger sandwiches. The cold cucumber hits my tongue, and honestly, I kind of want to spit it out, but I can't ruin the moment. That's some disgusting shit. Putting the chair back where I found it, I take my leave from the brunch spot, my job here complete.
Shocked eyes follow me as I walk out of the restaurant.Being in Ohio is the last place I ever want to be again. It's time for my hour-long flight back to Nashville, back to my Pack, back to my omega. Where the world is right and just. Just how I like it.
CHAPTER 32
NOA
A Few Weeks Later
Nest Supply is probably the biggest store I have ever seen. Even against all the fabric stores I’ve ever been to, none of them touch Nest Supply. The car comes to a stop, and as much as I’d love to jump out of the car, I hesitate.
My hand is covering the handle of Thorne’s car. The guys pile out of the car. It’s always hard for an alpha to fit in the backseat, and I’m feeling bad as I realize they always pile into this car just for me.
It’s a small but enjoyable ride and, more importantly, I have the best memories in this car. I don’t think I can let it go.
Thorne opens my door but steps inside the open space so I can’t get out. His green eyes pierce mine as he leans down, his arm over the top of the door. “We don’t have to do this today.”
I wait before answering. This is my dream. One of my lifetime goals, and I’m nervous. What girl is nervous about shopping?
Except it’s not just shopping.It’s nest shopping.
Shopping at my alpha’s expense, for things that’ll go into my safe space, my nest at my new home.
Taking a deep breath, I stare up at Thorne, his scent and presence settling me as I nod my head. The smile forming is one of true happiness as I step out of the car and stare at the big sign.
My heels click against the cement, my omega bursting at the seams with happiness as my alphas surround me. The automatic doors open, and the metallic scent blockers wafting over us excite me as I take in the store.
