Page 107 of The Rogues

“They’re not strangers, Cleo.”

In the wake of her words, silence falls over the group. The two best friends look at one another, one with sadness and the other with fiery defiance, a standoff that I want Josie out of immediately. I think Cleo might actually pounce at her, the indication too much for her to rationalize right now.

I feel his presence before I see him, his dominance pulsating in the air as Cyrus enters the circle. He moves to stand in front of Josie and me, separating us from Cleo’s rage.

“Sorry, I had a few things to take care of,” he says to us over his shoulder. “Josie, Izzy needs to talk to you about a few things. She wants to make sure we have everything you need.”

Josie nods beside me, biting her lip. “Okay.” She looks back at her friends, trying to stand proud in her decision. “I’ll see you at the next stop, okay? We can talk then.”

Lark is the only one who gives an understanding nod. The redhead never shows any anger towards Josie, I realize. She is always the one to help diffuse the tension, which she tries to do now as she looks back to Cleo.

“Come on, we need to head out.”

But Cleo is shaking her head, clearly not ready to let this go. “No. I don’t fucking understand. Josie, you hate them! Why the hell would you want to be on a bus with them? And how do you even know that you’re safe over there?”

A growl rises in Malaki’s chest at the implication that we could be a danger to our omega, but Cyrus places a hand on his shoulder, quietly commanding him to stifle it. The omega’s eyes widen even further, a wicked laugh escaping.

“Yeah, like that’s going to help.” She turns to look at her friend. “Josie, tell me there’s some reasonable explanation for this. You would never do this to me without one, please.”

Josie falters in her step, looking back to our prime, her omega seeking out direction because she is torn. I can feel it even without a bond between us. She wants to go back to them just so this entire situation will go away, but we’re way past that now. There’s no appeasing Cleo now, and Josie knows it.

“Josie, it’s okay,” Cyrus reassures. “Go ahead. We’ll be there in a second.”

She turns, giving her bandmates one last look of riddled guilt before she hooks her arm with Malaki’s and heads to the bus, leaving us to deal with the wrath spewing from Cleo’s mouth.

“She can’t live on your bus!” she hisses. “This is fucking ridiculous.”

“Cleo, let’s just go,” Lark tells her, her hand moving to her bicep to ease her away. Even Nicola, who I’ve never seen without a maniacal smile, is nodding her head in agreement, nervously awaiting the end of this uncomfortable situation.

“No, no, this is insane,” she protests, pulling her arm out of the drummer’s grasp and pointing a finger at Cyrus. “What did you say to her? What did you do?”

My mate is calm, sturdy. He watches the omega unravel without pity or sympathy. “Did you ever stop and consider that maybe it was something you did?” he asks.

Cleo flinches, her entire body moving back a step. “You fucking asshole.”

Normally, he would laugh at that particular nickname, but he is all business. His alpha is front and center, prepared to protect what’s his.

“We’re giving her a place to breathe. You should do the same.”

Cleo looks at my prime like he is the devil, her lip curled, and eyes hardened into slits. “I knew you would do this,” she grits out. “I knew you would turn my best friend against me. Why couldn’t you just stay the hell out of my life?”

“You wanted to make me the bad guy, Cleo,” he tells her, referring to their little stint in the media. “I never wanted that, but I have a job to do too. People I answer to. We both know the real reason for the animosity between us, but you couldn’t face it. Instead, you had to create some sort of narrative that I’m out to get you. It’s not true. I just want the best for you, and the best for Josie. And right now, what’s best for her is staying with us.”

Cleo is officially speechless, no words escaping, but she is vibrating with anger. I’ve never seen anything like it, and I can’t seem to look away. Then, she screams, loudly; her face turning blood red as she expels her frustration at us. It’s frightening, yes, but I can also see the hurt in her eyes.

It breaks something in me, and I’m suddenly glad that Cyrus had the instinct to send Josie away so she wouldn’t see it, too.

“She’s not okay,” I comment as Cleo’s bandmates finally pull her away and practically drag her to the bus. “Has it really been that bad this entire time?”

“I think it’s worse,” he responds, his features finally falling into something more somber and compassionate. “But you can’t help someone who doesn’t want to be helped.”

THIRTY-FIVE

BURLINGTON, VIRGINIA

Josie has been with us for three stops. Three concerts, in three different cities.

I love having her around. The bus needed a feminine touch, and it’s so much more comfortable than it was before. I’d take another three-week straight bus affair if it meant Josie was there to hold at night. Her presence is calming, loving, and she is a wonder in all the small, in-between moments.