He jerked his chin toward the corner of the room. Opposite the large window were slim French doors, the frosted panes not allowing me to see through them.
Kyan looked at me once more, his almost-black irises sliding down my body, then he left, shutting me inside the room.
I slumped, like a puppet whose strings had been snipped, and immediately regretted it. Wincing, I straightened and rolled my aching shoulder. There hadn’t been any time to look at the wound. I crawled to the couch and leaned against it.
God, my arm hurts.
I exhaled slowly and lowered my elbow to remove the oversized leather jacket. It slid off with a bit of maneuvering.
Blood seeped through the arm of my sweater, turning the gray fabric splotchy. I carefully touched the still-damp, ripped cloth. Shit, was it worse than I thought?
I rolled onto my knees, accidentally placing my hand down. The same hand that had just come away red. The bright red smear on the white carpet stole my breath away quickly.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I tugged the other sleeve and rubbed it on the bloodspot, only spreading it. I was already causing a problem. What if they used this as an excuse to force me to leave? I stood quickly and rounded the couch. With a few hip bumps, I scooted it forward until the stain was covered. Hopefully, it wasn’t too obvious.
I grabbed the leather jacket and made my way to the bathroom. The iron handle was cold to the touch. I swung open the door, heading directly to the pristine double sink. It was made out of black granite with white swirled through the inkiness.
I had to move like a snail to remove my sweater. The sharp stabs were becoming so intense, my fingers were going numb.
To distract myself, I mentally combed through my research on Greymont Pack. The little I’d been able to find during background checks.
There was nothing on Elias or Kyan, but Sinclair? I’d found his multiple misdemeanors for public indecency. When I went to the women listed alongside him in the reports, I’d expected the worst, like domestic violence situations. Instead, I’d been greeted by his fans. That was the best way to describe the women who were obsessed with him. The Alpha enjoyed fucking with a crowd, and none of the women cared. In fact, all they could talk about was how huge his cock was. Other than being a well-known womanizer, the others’ records were pretty vanilla. That was what bit me in the ass and got me fired from Candor.
When I peeled the fabric away from my arm, I hissed. It ripped part of what had scabbed over from the wound, and fresh blood trickled to my elbow. I’d have to get rid of the sweater, but I could use the other sleeve to bind the injury.
Months ago, I was a well-established journalist, now? I was houseless, jobless, and at the mercy of Greymont Pack.
Shadows returned, creeping over my thoughts and tempting me to curl into a ball. To never face the world. Gritting my teeth, I tore the last threads off the sleeve, hung it on the hook of the free-standing black towel cabinet, then turned on the shower.
As embarrassing as it was, I didn’t want to die. I just hoped I could hold onto my will to live after bringing myself so low.
Chapter 5
“Put that over there,” Elias snapped, ordering the two female Betas to move the circular table closer to the wall. They wouldn’t know why he was acting like a twat, but I did. I grinned. He was more affected by that Omega than he let on.
I leaned back against the plush seat behind the roped-off section reserved for the three of us. A bottle of beer dangled between my fingers, half empty. It couldn’t have been more than a few hours since we’d left our Scent Match upstairs. We closed the joint at sunrise and opened in the afternoon, and now we were struggling to keep ourselves distracted. It was painfully obvious what was happening.
Even me, an Alpha who’d had more pussy than I could ever count, kept thinking about her.
How her lip curled with stubbornness, or the fierce determination in her gaze.
It was bloody hot.
I wouldn’t hold it against myself for lusting for her, even if we all agreed never to claim an Omega; she was our Scent Match.
Poor girl didn’t know what we were saving her from.
We were too fucked up to have a woman with the shite amount of baggage we carried.
“For fuck’s sake.” Elias’ snarl ripped me back to the present. “I want this place spotless,” he roared. Elias was in the zone. When he got this worked up, the bastard was best avoided. He stormed off the floor and into the back hallway. Without the music blaring through the room, it was easy to hear the back exit door being shoved open.
“Why is he being so pissy?” Deliah . . . or was it, Leah? commented, bending forward to present her pushed-up cleavage. Yet all I could think about was the little stalker upstairs.
“How’s Demi doing?” Leah asked, her voice grating in my ears.She was still talking?
Instead of answering, I held her gaze and took another swig of the beer until it was gone, then I tossed it to her. She scrambled to catch it.
