“Gabe, I’m okay,” I soothe.
Noah brushes the hair off my face. “Gabriel is struggling not to go feral, sweetheart. It’s been a rough few days for all of us.”
“What happened?” I ask, my fingers touching his badly banged up cheek.
“Let’s focus on you first,” Gabe says, leaning over to kiss my forehead. I sink into the touch too, saturating in this moment of weakness.
Henley parks the car in the garage, the external roller door closing behind us, but he’s out of the car and closing the door behind him without a word. Leaving us completely alone.
“What happened?”
Noah answers as Gabe helps me out of the car. “He’s an alpha who thought he lost his own omega once; trust me, he understands the distance we need.”
“And maybe a little wary of Gabe.” I smirk, but it’s an action not accompanied by any feeling. I’m so empty inside. “I can’t stay here.”
“Nah, we are, Len. They’ve cleared this floor for us and will keep Bailey away. You need sleep, and then we need to talk.”
Shaking my head, I reply, “I can’t go in there. It’s too happy family for me.”
“Fine, we’ll sleep in the car then. But we’re staying here. They’ve got A grade security,” Gabe argues.
“Yeah, so did I and that didn’t stop anyone.”
“And that’s enough. You’re resting now and later we can figure all the rest of the bullshit out!” Noah barks at me. “I can scent how closely you’ve skated the line with suppressants and the rest, Lennon. I know why, but I need you back to you, not like this, sick and smelling like nothing!”
“I need better too, Noah. I’m not going in their house, not even through that door,” I jab my finger in the direction where Henley went, “so please figure it out, because I am so fucking done right now.”
Gabe bursts into action and takes advantage of the insanely anal organisation of Pack Bailey’s pristine garage. I watch semi amused as he literally makes himself at home using all their carefully labelled camping supplies. Within minutes, he has a medium sized tent set up in the right corner of the underground garage, an air mattress inflated and every one of their brand-new sleeping bags inside.
“So, for the record, Len,” Gabe smiles as he takes me out of Noah’s arms and into his, pushing my head against his chest so I can hear his purr under his words. “Our pack house is not going to be like this. These guys are so fucking organised that Marie Kondo would feel like a dirty hoarder. We’re not colour coding boxes, or labelling them, just spoiling our omega for years, and years to come.”
He stands me at the entrance of the tent and peels my clothes off, flinging them into the corner to make a point, before he undresses himself.
“Grab the backpack too,” I say over my shoulder before I take the step into our makeshift room.
“Why?” Noah asks Gabe.
“Len will be weaponed up and will sleep better if they’re close by.”
He spins me around before holding up the sea of blankets and pointing at the middle of our bed.
“No shower?” Noah asks.
“Nah, all we need is each other.” Gabe tosses the blankets back before crawling in behind me. He goes slow, his hands gliding up from the bottom of my feet, stopping at my hips so he can curl around me, his chest on my back, his legs between mine. “Hurry up, Noah.”
And Gabe being so damn thoughtful only put the poles in to half height, so it really is like a cosy nest. Noah switches all the lights off in the garage before he makes his way into our nylon fortress.
“Gabe, put your hand up in the air,” Noah says, his voice not overly loud. But he’s not trying to be quiet either. “I’m handing you over a gun.”
And then the mattress dips and I nearly roll out, but Gabe hooks his arm around my waist while Noah climbs in and snuggles up so I’m cocooned between them both. I shiver, and once it starts, it’s hard to stop.
“Let it out, Len, you need to as much as we need you to. We’re here, promise you, we’re here.” Gabe runs his hands over every part of my body he can reach, while he talks into my ear barely loud enough for me to hear.
Noah’s hands join in, his touch more precise than Gabe’s. There’s nothing sexual about the way they touch, it’s much deeper, more intimate. I’m not sure the tears actually stopped, a wracking sob seems to come from the centre of my chest, and Noah leans down to press his lips to the spot but he doesn’t tell me to stop. And even though I have a whole ocean of tears to cry, I lose the battle of trying to keep my eyes open, falling into their tender care as I drop into a dream filled sleep.
With each passing hour a new nightmare has me waking, my mind not yet processing that I’m safe. Each time I sit up gasping, they both wake with me and cover me in peppery, honey dipped kisses, and our little nest gets warmer and smells more like we do. My head is abuzz, noises keep going up and down in volume. I need deeper sleep, but while I’m exhausted, my body is restless.
Twisting around, I wrap one of my hands around Noah’s face, pulling his lips to mine. They’ve been careful to keep our touches PG, but I need the kind of healing you get from re-establishing connections. Gabe, Noah, and I are already moulded to each other, a leg between mine, a hand hooked over my hip. Wiggling further onto Noah, I open my legs and guide Gabe down.
