“You said it was an emergency?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I sigh, closing the door behind him once he steps inside, leading him further into the foyer. “Do you know anything about the hug centers for omegas and alphas that are popping up in the city?”
“I can do you one better,” he says. “I’ve studied up on the phenomenon of touch for alphas, and it’s said that an omega’s physical attention is important for alphas so they won’t go feral. I wrote a paper that ended up being published as well. It makes sense that these businesses are filling the void for alphas that don’t have an omega in their packs.”
And that’s why I haven’t given Cassidy grief about this. I’ve met feral alphas. Someone as incredible as Cass doesn’t deserve to have that happen to her because so many female omegas refuse to have another female in their pack.
It boggles my mind, because even some male omegas are threatened by Cassidy. While female alphas aren’t scarce, they’re also not as plentiful as male alphas, and there’s definitely a stigma at times around them.
She mentioned that we have been refusing to have sex with her, and it started as a joke, but continued for reasons that seem very dumb now. Cassidy needs physical touch and attention, and the puppy piles that we sleep in aren’t cutting it.
We’re so fucking stupid.
“How above board are most of these businesses, do you think?” I ask. “It seems as if it could be a new type sex club to me with very vulnerable people.”
“Stop beating around the bush,” Riley says, horrified. “I mentioned this in my paper while I was writing it to a professor, and he agreed that it could easily become a sex trafficking ring.”
“Cassidy has been going to hug programs between omegas and alphas for the past couple of months, and has never had any issues, until now,” I explain. “The business was called ‘The Hug Project. The omegas were drugged, malnourished, and I’m pretty sure they were bought in some way, Riley.”
“What did you do?” he asks.
“We murdered everyone there, rescued the omegas, and set that bitch on fire of course,” I say mildly with a shrug. Riley’s jawdrops, but I’m fairly used to that. “There were no other options. I also found out that the two omegas Cassidy was with today are my pack’s scent matches, and they’re in the living room sleeping with her.”
“I think I’m dizzy,” he mutters. “Is Cassidy okay?”
“She’s high as fuck,” I say. “They pumped some kind of drug through the vents to loosen up the alphas. The company doesn’t advertise that their omegas are sex workers, but the drugs imply otherwise. The front desk receptionist I murdered told me that Cassidy was getting her brains fucked out, and attempted to keep me from entering the room. However, I knew it wasn’t true based on the broken texts I was receiving from Cass.”
“Sounds like it was the last thing the receptionist did,” Riley grunts.
“Pretty much,” I reply. “Can you look the three of them over, please? I need a nutritional direction to run in for Bellamy and Winter as well. They’re so weak, they couldn’t walk out of the center. I’m concerned about muscle atrophy.”
“I can do all of that. Have you had a chance to talk to them about any of this?” he asks
“No. It’s a miracle they weren’t too scared to allow me to help. They’re very frightened, and only want to be near each other and Cassidy.”
Riley nods, following me into the living room with a bag at his side.
“I don’t want to freak them out,” he murmurs. “Will you wake up Cassidy to start with?”
Moving to where Cassidy lays between the omegas, I gently shake her shoulder until her eyes open.
“Riley is here, and he might need your help,” I explain.
“Hey, Riley,” she says sleepily, glancing at him. The omegas on either side of her immediately wake, sitting up with wild expressions on their faces.
Yay, trauma. It’s written all over them.
“It’s okay,” Cassidy says, pushing herself up into a sitting position. “You haven’t been eating properly, have you?”
“No,” Bellamy says, starting to cough.
I have bottles of water and fruit on hand, mostly because I didn’t want to feel completely useless. I had to bring the three of them in separately without anyone noticing. It wasn’t easy, and I’m pretty sure my older neighbor noticed when I carried Bellamy in since he was last.
Opening the bottle, I hand it to him, watching as his hand shakes.
“I’ll help,” Cass murmurs, doing just that. She urges him to take small sips, concern written all over her features. My girl has a deep empathy for others, and this is no different.
“I’m here to see if you’re physically alright,” Riley says. “I can see you’ve been through some things, so I can’t speak to your mental health. My name is Riley. Would it be possible for me to examine you?”
