Since I plan to be gone for a few days, I set the heater to reflect that, set the alarm, and then lock the door. Rhodes is already in the Jeep with the puppy by the time I join him, and I put the address into the GPS on my phone as I warm the vehicle up.
“Koen is drinking on Olsson’s couch,” I tell him as I begin to pull out of the driveway. The snow is going to make it impossible to get anywhere soon, which means we need to make this quick. “We’re going to sedate and kidnap him.”
“Olsson or Koen?” Rhodes asks. His nasal passages are clogged to hell and back, but he’s no longer actively crying.
Then again, he’s being serious and not trying to be funny.
“Koen. I don’t want to fuck Olsson,” I murmur, driving out of the neighborhood.
“Good. I don’t either,” he sighs. “Is Olsson going to be difficult about this?”
“I don’t think so. He also wants me to fix things.”
“Good. I’d hate to have to punch him,” Rhodes muses. “It would be a waste of time.”
“Are you feeling violent?” I ask him, listening to the GPS’ voice as it instructs me to turn.
“Very,” he grumbles.
“Hold onto that,” I say. “I have someone you can direct your anger at. I just need a little patience, okay?”
“I guess,” he sighs.
Rhodes is strangling the line between big emotions and exhaustion, which is a volatile place to be.
After what seems like an eternity, but really has only been twenty minutes of driving, the GPS beeps to tell me I’ve arrived in front of a cute house.
“Are you coming or staying with the puppy? She can’t come inside with us,” I caution. “I need to be as quick as possible.”
I take out the syringe and fill it with the sedative, careful to make sure there aren’t any air bubbles. I’ve done this before, so I know what the exact dose is for an omega Koen’s size. Olsson’s observations about my criminal activities aren’t completely wrong.
“I’ll wait,” Rhodes says.
“Good choice. Keep the heat going, please,” I say, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “I’m sorry about all this.”
He nods as I cap and pocket the syringe and get out of the vehicle. Long strides shorten the distance between myself and the door, which is opening as I step onto the front stoop. This place reminds me of a cute little grandmother instead of a bachelor’s home, but I don’t have it in me to ask about it.
Richards raises his brow at me as he opens the door, and I remember he’s Olsson’s roommate. He thankfully doesn’t say anything other than to point me in the direction of the living room. The inside of the house has pretty wallpaper, large glass vases, and it’s even more apparent that someone was either given their grandmother’s house after she passed, or she’s currently alive. If she’s alive, I’m going to scare the shit out of her when I carry my omega out of here.
All thoughts of scaring the elderly shatter once I see Koen staring unseeingly into space while he takes a sip of an amber liquid. Moving quietly, I walk closer to him, pulling out the syringe without a word. Olsson makes a strangled sound that makes Koen grunt back, while I pull the safety cap off the syringe.
Koen must be headed toward drunkenness, because I bend over and slide the syringe into his neck before he notices I’m there. Shoving the plunger down, I smile sadly at him as he jolts in surprise.
Olsson steps forward to catch the glass before it falls from Koen’s fingers, and I remove the syringe, cap it, and put it back into my pocket before an older woman walks into the room.
“Do we have another visitor?” she asks.
I smirk at Olsson, waiting to see how he wants to play this. Richards mutters under his breath, while Olsson straightens and shakes his head.
I’d really rather not freak this woman out, but he doesn’t know that. He also doesn’t know I don’t have another syringe on me. Sometimes, the mysteries in life work in your favor. For example, Olsson can’t yell at me for sedating Koen in front of this woman. It’s a win.
“No, Grandma. This man is here to take his omega home. Koen drank a little too much. Lovers’ spat,” he explains.
“Oh. Maybe you should buy him some flowers,” she murmurs as I lift Koen into my arms in a bridal carry. “Unless, you cheated. In that case, you should let him cut off your knot.”
“Ma’am, if that was the case, I would cut it off myself,” I promise. “This is a misunderstanding I plan to clear up as soon as he’s awake.”
Olsson shoots me a glare before he smiles weakly at his grandmother, and I decide to take my exit. This woman, thoughelderly, clearly has use of most of her facilities, and could easily decide I’m the problem. I need to get the fuck out of here.
