Owen Samuels was a tech genius, pure and simple. I had tried to poach him from Russo Enterprises two years ago when I was getting my consulting business off the ground. I even offered him an obscene amount of money too, but he’d let me down gently, telling me that he was happy right where he was. Now that I knew Pack Russo a little better, I could easily see why.
“Hey, I need a favor.”
“Shoot.” The beta was always ready for a challenge.
“I need you to try and hack into my security system at our apartment.” No matter how many times I told myself that this place was as safe as I could make it, I still had that same paranoid feeling in the back of my mind.
Owen was quiet on the line for a moment as he worked to register my request, “Are you sure?”
“Yeah. My hope is that it will be tough to get into, even for you. I’m worried about holes in my security and that it will put Tibby in danger.” It wasn’t often that I showed vulnerability to anyone outside of my pack, but I trusted Pack Russo and Link enough to ask for help.
“Yeah, I got you. It’ll take me a bit because I already know you have some beefy security. I’ll give you a full work-up on it when it’s done, sound good?”
I opened my mouth to respond with a yes, but I could hear Eloise in the background demanding that Owen hand her the phone so she could ask about Tibby. Once she had finally procured the phone, she greeted me, “Hi, Theo how’s Tibby doing? Has she settled in okay?”
“Yep, she’s all settled in. We’ve got her downstairs playing with a new mixer, and her new clothes.” I responded and immediately regretted it. Pack Russo still had no idea about the break-in at Tibby’s apartment. Shit Judging by Eloise’s gasp, I knew that I had just stepped right into a wasp nest of omega concern.
“Why would Tibby need a new mixer? What happened to Kenny?” She asked, using the name of the damn mixer which had been completely gutted. What was it with people naming their inanimate objects? I never understood it. I needed to end this conversation fast or we’d have a very pregnant omega trying to break into our apartment to check on her friend tonight.
“Are you still there? Ellie, can you hear me?” Was it shameless of me to fake a bad cell signal? Of course, but I am far from perfect, so I began making buzzing noises with my mouth to mimic a static signal.
“Seriously Theo?” Eloise asked, irritated, but I continued making noises.
“I think we’ve got a bad...khhhh...connection. Call...brrrrr...you back later.” With that, I hung up with a click.
I rubbed my tired eyes and leaned against the doorframe of my bedroom, listening to Aria, Matteo, and Tibby’s conversation downstairs. A plaintive meow came from the floor at my feet and a gray cat wove between my legs, looking for attention.
“Hey, Wally.” I greeted him, and scooped the nine-year-old gray cat up into my arms. As always, he looked up at me with his huge green eyes that reminded me of a Disney character. Wally butted his head affectionately against my chin and against my stubble. In the craziness of the day I’d forgotten all about Wally and his connection with the omega downstairs. Tibby and Wally already knew each other.
A sort of giddy excitement filled me as I carried the cat downstairs. Tibby was busy reading a pamphlet and laughing at something Matteo was doing. Aria leaned against the counter, sipping on a glass of red wine as she watched the two with warm amber eyes. As I came down the stairs, Aria looked up and smiled at the cat that I was carrying. Aria had never been a cat person before I brought Wally home nine years ago, but the gray fur ball was so affectionate that even Aria had given in after only a few weeks.
Tibby, still not looking at me, attached one of the many hook attachments to the top of the mixer before she stepped back to look at the orange contraption with a satisfied grin. Wally meowed loudly in my arms and the noise drew Tibby’s eyes to me and the cat that I held.
Her face went blank for a moment until recognition lit inside of her eyes and she gasped, “Is that kitten?” She asked and rounded the counter, practically bounding over to me. She stopped a foot away from me, her eyes locked on the cat. At her height, she was perfectly eye level with the feline and they stared at each other.
“It is, I told you I’d take care of him, didn’t I?” The night that we’d taken Tibby out of the compound we’d had to surrender her over to Child Protective Services, and they hadn’t allowed her to take Wally with her. She pitched a fit and screamed like a banshee, refusing to let go of the kitten. I’d eventually promised her that I would take care of him, and wouldn’t let anything happen to him. She’d made me a pinky promise and everything.
I had fully intended to give Wally back to her after the trial, but CPS had whisked her away right after the trial and that was the last time that I’d seen her for almost ten years...until today that was.
Tibby reached out hesitantly and brushed a finger over the smooth hair between Wally’s ears, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. Wally was having none of her gentle petting and bumped the top of his head into Tibby’s palm. The cat let out a rattling purr and I plopped him right into her arms. She hugged him tightly to her chest and buried her nose into his soft fur. Wally, for his part, preened underneath all of the new attention he was getting. The old cat lapped up attention like a man who had been walking through a desert and was finally given a drink.
“Damn. Chadworth has nothing on a cat, huh?” Matteo swiveled around to watch Tibby and the cat, his brown eyes tracking her every movement as she got reacquainted with the cat who’d come out of the compound with her.
“Would you pick a mixer over a cat?” Aria asked and rolled her eyes before coming around the corner to join us, her fingers brushed past Tibby’s arm as she gave Wally an affectionate scratch. It was obvious that both of my packmates were already getting into the habit of touching or brushing past Tibby. I would need to have a conversation with them about it later. We were supposed to protect Tibby, not court her. She was too young for us anyways. Or at least that is what I had been telling myself over the past few hours whenever her strawberries and cream scent filled my nose.
“What do you think, Theo?” Aria’s voice brought me back into the present and I blinked at her like an idiot, and it was abundantly clear to everyone that I hadn’t been listening.
“What do I think about what?” I could feel my cheeks warm, and I was a little embarrassed that I had been caught.
Aria’s fingers rested on Tibby’s arm, but her amber eyes were locked onto me, narrowing as if she could hear my inner monologue. Aria had the uncanny ability to pin you in your place until you felt just uncomfortable enough to tell her the truth. It was what made her such a good lawyer.
“About either ordering grocery delivery or asking Cobb to pick up groceries on his way back in from whatever FBI hidey-hole he’s at?” Aria said, repeating herself.
“Is it really safe to get groceries delivered?” Tibby’s question was followed by her strawberries and cream smell sharpening as she asked the question. Just by looking at her, it was clear that she was imagining a crazy scenario where our Instacart guy was actually the boogeyman.
Despite my earlier resolve to only treat Tibby like the person we were protecting, I couldn’t help but reach out and run a soothing hand down her arm. Immediately, I realized what I had done and tried to play it off by giving Wally a scratch between his ears.
Of course, Aria’s ever-observant eyes saw everything, and she looked rather smug as she answered Tibby’s question. “All of our groceries get delivered to the front desk—we don’t even use our names on the order, it's a service that the building provides. You just tell us what you want to eat and we will get it. You can even write a list for the next two weeks if you want.”
