“Apparently, a truck has been delivered. It’s parked in the street. Aleksei didn’t want them in here without him around.”
“Are workmen coming in?”
“Do you really think the Russian would let people in the house now? After you’ve been attacked so many times? Besides,I know a bit, and Santiago is apparently good with his hands, Aleksei too.”
“So, will I get to help?”
He chuckles under his breath. “Yeah, Quinn, you get to help.”
I swing around; his sarcasm isn’t sharp enough to sting but is still noticeable.
“No. You will not be helping.”
“You just said I could.”
“I know. I hate to deny you anything, so I said yes, but it was never going to happen. I couldn’t live with myself if you broke a nail.”
He’s teasing me. And it feels good. He knows I’m not a princess, and I really would like to help, but he also knows how exhausted I am. Working nonstop at the clinic seems to be catching up to me like an out-of-control bullet train. It always happens. The instant I get to relax, I crash out because there is absolutely nothing left in the tank. It’s not safe for an Omega to be in that state. Vulnerability leads to nothing good.
Vulnerability…oh, shit.
I stop suddenly and nearly get bowled over by Kade and Aleksei. Santiago must sense something is going on because he crowds in close too.
“What is it?” Kade asks.
“Before I left, I sent a box of personal items, some medication, a few small keepsakes, only because I didn’t trust my suitcases not getting lost. Which, in an odd way, happened anyway when my stuff got destroyed. But tomorrow, I need to see a doctor you trust, Aleksei.”
“Why?” he asks sharply, unease and suspicion on his face.
Kade twists around and stares Aleksei down until the Alpha runs a hand over his face, along his scar, taking in a big breath.
When he looks at me, he’s contained his outburst. It wasn’t huge, but that’s not the point. “Of course I can arrange that. Sergey has a…”
“No thank you. I do not want to trouble my future husband with my ‘maybe’ predicament. Please leave it be.”
Kade turns around and looks at me carefully.
But it’s Santiago who speaks softly. “You don’t have any suppressors in your bag?”
I stare at the two of them, hoping to convey without spelling it out that we shouldn’t be talking about this in front of Sergey’s man. “I did, but all my things got destroyed. I don’t want to risk having a mini heat, all things considered. The last few weeks have been very stressful, and I’m tired, which adds to the potential of me having an episode.”
If you three were not around, I might be okay. But hello, scent matches. My body wants to pretend she’s a penis-slash-knot flytrap.And of course, as if to prove a point, certain muscles hear my internal ramblings and start to clench around nothing, which hurts.
Thankfully none of them react, keeping their thoughts and scents to themselves.
They accompany me to my suite, none of them making eye contact, and they’re careful not to touch me.
“I’m not going into heat right this second!” I hiss before gnashing my teeth together as I deal with the onslaught of frustration and longing, rolled into one tiny outburst.
Santiago keeps walking but checks over his shoulder. I feel the way he’s looking and assessing. “I’d still like to know about these other attacks.”
He diverts my focus, which is pretty cool of him. I think I was envisaging acting up and him using my weakness to drag me into a corner and do wicked things to me, but that’s my longing speaking. So I’m happy to follow the direction he’s taking.
Deciding the only way to explain everything that’s happened is to start at the beginning, I share my experience with the cab drivers, followed by my drive by the estate that first night and being summoned from my hotel the next morning.
We step inside the room, and everyone spreads out but stays close. So, I keep explaining.
“I’ve come to realize my future husband has numerous side pieces, and I don’t care at all, but those side pieces are territorial, vindictive bitches. One of them was on their way to Aleksei’s room—and, again, it’s not my business what she was doing,” I say, lying through my teeth. The thought of anyone but me inside his suite drives me near rabid. The bite on my hand stings like a wasp attack in validation of our connection.
