Trudging up the stairs, they continue up to their nest to get ready for bed. We all need showers, and we hit the different bathrooms in the house to do just that. Abbott is pulling on a pair of sweatpants just as Winter and Bellamy stop outside the doors to the room.
“Come in,” Cassidy says with a smile, climbing into bed. She’s wearing a tank top and a pair of panties, the most she’ll wear in our bed.
Winter and Bellamy come inside, and soon we’re all situated in the huge bed. Abbott turns the lights down, but it seems our omegas are having a hard time sleeping. They both keep moving, and I can’t help but chuckle.
“Do you two have the zoomies?” I tease them.
“We aren’t cats,” Winter giggles.
“You definitely were a cat in another life,” Bellamy murmurs, burying his face in her neck.
They’re in the middle of our bed, while we’re fanned out on either side of them.
“Sedatives usually leave me groggy, but I’m not tired anymore,” Winter explains. “I also keep thinking about the omegas that escaped Madam Clara. Are they still in Savannah, or did they leave? I don’t know but it’s worrying me. It feels risky for them to stay here with that bitch chomping at the bit for omegas to sell.”
“Do you remember any of them?” I ask.
“We all had aliases,” Bellamy says sadly. “The only omegas that Madam Clara had left when Winter and I were sold were the ones from Slick Dreams. Something must have happened to cancel future auctions.”
“She used to mutter about how secure our location was or wasn’t,” Winter murmurs. “We became the equivalent of a floating auction, just like Slick Dreams was a floating sex club. I guess she picked up a few tricks from Bret, the owner.”
“Fucking Bret,” Bellamy whispers, pain in his voice.
“You’re sure he’s dead?” Abbott growls. “We could kill him for you.”
“Definitely dead,” he says, sighing. “We were his money making whores, and he had no problems getting us to do his bidding.”
“Hey,” Cassidy hisses. “The things you have to do under duress don’t define you. Don’t say mean shit to yourself.”
“She means it,” Ansel smirks. “Cassidy tickles people when they’re assholes to themselves.”
“Ugh. She’s the reason I have to strike first!” Abbott yells, his fingers digging into her sides.
“No. Fuck! Abbott!” she squeals, her body wriggling and contorting as she screams. “Uncle!”
“Amateur,” he teases her, kissing her shoulder.
“Tickles or not,” I drawl. “Cassidy still has a good point, Bellamy.”
“It doesn’t feel that way,” he grumbles. “We’ve lost a year of our lives, our birthdays are next month, and we have absolutely nothing to show for it.”
“You’re in a new school,” Abbott begins to tick off.
“You found your scent matches,” Ansel continues.
“I killed the witch,” Cassidy adds. “I think we should teach you some basic self defense.”
“That’s a good idea,” I say. “Oh, you have a kick ass nest you’re building,”
“You’re right. I don’t think Bell meant it like that,” Winter says. “When you’re eighteen, you’re supposed to do something big to remind yourself that you’re an adult.”
“You mean, a bad decision, or doing something just to do it because it’s legal?” Abbott chuckles. “Do you want to smoke cigarettes, vote, get a piercing, or a tattoo?”
“The tattoo wouldn’t be a bad idea,” I say suddenly, thinking about Clara’s goddamned brand.
“Really?” Winter asks. “Are we allowed to do that?”
“We want you happy, not controlled,” Abbott says seriously. He’s wrapped around Cassidy’s body while she lays next to Winter. “You don’t need our permission for a tattoo. We all have them. Even Cass, though hers is small and says ‘eat me’ on her left ass cheek.”
