Page 72 of Vendetta

Cruz had one hand tucked under his jacket, and Oliver shifted his weight in front of me. The night had gone silent. Even the crickets were choking on the tension.

Marcel took a step back, his hands still raised. “Yeah, okay. You gonna let us in? Show some hospitality. It’s the least you could do after we drove all the way out here for nothin, dog.”

Oliver reached back toward me, and after a moment’s consideration, I slid my fingers into his hold. He gave my hand a soft squeeze and pulled me closer. Nico glanced over his shoulder at us in some sort of silent communication that I didn’t understand before striding up the steps and unlocking the door. Marcel and the other two followed him inside with Cruz on their heels.

Oliver leaned into me, his breath ruffling my hair. “Keep your head down and follow my lead. These guys are the worst of the worst, and the only reason they would’ve found this place is if Francisco sent them. And that’s real bad.”

I stuck close to Oliver as Nico led everyone to the kitchen. We lagged behind, staying quiet. The urge to hold my breath weighed heavily on my chest. I didn’t want to be here, back in this house wrapped in the addictive scent of Nico’s pack. The bond was squirming its way into my heart and setting anchors that I might never be able to untangle myself from.

Marcel and the other two men slid onto stools at the island as if it were their right, and my hackles went up. It was as if they were polluting this space just with their presence. Their foul odor leached into the sweet-scented air, poisoning it alongside the occasional whiff of gas from the now dormant stove. This wasn’t my house, never would be if I had any say in the matter, but it felt like they were desecrating it just by sitting there.

Marcel sniffed the air, turning to look at me with a calculating stare. “Smells like gas in here.”

“We had a minor issue with the stove at breakfast this morning,” Nico said as if it was nothing.

Cabinets opened, bottles clanked, and glasses clinked as Nico and Cruz served up whiskey. Oliver guided me over to the breakfast nook and pulled me into the banquette next to him, remaining silent.

After dusting off a few glasses and commentary on the score of the big game last week, Marcel’s eyes wandered to me, lingering uncomfortably on my bare legs. “How about some entertainment? I don’t understand what you see in that one,” he lifted his glass in Oliver’s direction, “but get the girl up here on the counter to dance for us, eh?”

The air in the room congealed, thick and cloying. Blood fled from my head in a rush of ice water. I bit down on the inside of my cheek, reminding myself that Oliver told me to follow his lead. He was smiling in an unhinged sort of way that chilled me further, but I managed to force a placating smile onto my face.

The crack of a glass bottle landing on the stone island broke the silence like a jackhammer. “How about some eighteen-year-old single malt, and we send the omegas away for the night? Oliver, lock Rosa up and go to bed,” Nico said, drawing the attention of the alphas back to the bottle he put on the counter.

There was some grumbling, but no one stopped us when Oliver guided me past them and down the hall.

“I don’t suppose you’d want to sleep in my nest tonight?” Oliver whispered, looking hopeful.

Chapter 47

Rosalina

Iswallowed hard as heat raced back into my icy limbs at the suggestion. Oliver’s nest was the worst possible place to be if I was going to reject this bond. What I needed was space away from them and their addictive scent. Especially Nico, but Oliver and Cruz, too.

After a moment of silence, his shoulders lifted in a half-shrug. “No? Well, a guy can dream.” He unlocked the room next to his. “Here. You should be safe, but don’t come out until one of us comes to get you. AND, Rosa, look at me. DO NOT try to escape again. We will find you, no matter where you go or what you do, we will always find you.”

I didn’t know if that was supposed to be threatening or reassuring, but it set a herd of butterflies tumbling around in my stomach. Traitorous little bastards.

Boisterous voices carried down the hall, overshadowing the heavy silence, reminding me of the most pressing danger. The irritating noise vanished along with Oliver’s fading smile as the door closed between us, locking him out and me inside a spacious room with dove gray walls and charcoal and white accents. It was a mirror of Oliver’s room, but with none of the personality. Instead of the nest-nook, stuffed full of pillows, throws, and bordered by built-in cabinetry, in its place was a plush-looking queen-sized bed. Overall, it was a perfectly serviceable guest room. Not that I expected they had many guests.

I will admit, I eyed the long, skinny window that ran parallel to the ceiling on the other side of the space. It had no mechanism to open, so if I wanted out, I was going to have to bash through it like I’d done before. The adrenaline rushing in my veins was fast abandoning me after my first escape attempt, though, and the weight of the day was catching up. I was in no condition to try anything like that again soon, even if I wanted to.

Did I want to?

I pressed my ear to the door, confirming what I already knew. I was well and truly trapped. The sound of laughter echoed from the kitchen. Nico and Cruz were taking their role as hosts seriously, and keeping the uninvited guests busy and away from their omega and me, at least. They were far from perfect. Significantly flawed, but maybe they weren’t all bad. Capitalizing on the intruder’s distraction, I shuffled across the hardwood into the bathroom.

White marble with dramatic gray veining and a huge framed mirror greeted me as I walked in. My hair was a mess after being in a motorcycle helmet, and the zip-up hoodie hung limply off my shoulders. The angry edge of a bite peeked out of the neck, and I pulled the fabric aside to get a better look. Physically seeing it there sent tingles racing across my skin, and my face warmed. I hated that it made me feel good, wanted, even loved, but none of that was true. It couldn’t be. It was just the scent-match and instincts driving an emotional response.

It wasn’t real.

Was it?

I shed the hoodie, leaving it in a pile on the floor, and got into the marble shower. I had to wash their scent off me. That would help. Not being covered in their sweat and cum would get my muddled brain working again. I rushed through the process, hoping it would solve my current predicament.

Unfortunately, even after I was clean, I couldn’t shake the feeling, and when my fingers landed on the rough abrasion where Nico’s teeth had broken skin, a sweet curl of desire pulsed low in my belly. Things would be better in the morning, I was sure of it.

There were no discarded clothes in this room that I could pillage, only the filthy hoodie on the floor, so I dried myself off before wrapping a soft gray towel around my torso. Exhaustion pressed against the back of my eyelids, so I ignored my wandering thoughts and tucked myself into the fluffy bed. I didn’t want to think about what that fast-healing scar meant. I just wanted to rest.

The door was locked. I’d be safe for a while.