Chapter Twelve
Cujo
Getting into my honeybee’s house should not be this difficult.
The sheer number of locks on her door makes me pause to stare at them.
Ten. No one needs ten locks. That’s borderline obsessive.
A faint hum and the feeling of ants crawling down my neck set my instincts on alert.
I’m being watched. Cameras. There are definitely cameras somewhere.
My eyes scan the room in search of them, but come up empty.
Well-hidden cameras. Very interesting.
Tiptoeing stealthily, I move cautiously. Would a place with so many locks be booby-trapped, too? Since I’m not eager to take a paint can to the face, or whatever else the little spitfire has concocted, I use my training to observe everything.
Even with years of experience at breaking and entering, the only way to breach Willow’s house was by crawling through a window, which landed me in her snug den. It doesn’t seem properly lived in. The couch is way too hard, and the television is obscenely tiny. Offensive.
Added to the upgrade list. My omega may need a class in the wonderful world of cinema—Cujo style.
Something about this whole situation doesn’t add up, but with the depth of her scent saturating the interior, it’s hard to focus on the nuances.
Before I forget, I wander to the kitchen, dropping her knife on the table. I’d considered keeping it as a souvenir, but she deserves better. It’s now free from my blood, but the cute, ruby-studded weapon is likely a favorite, and I would be bereft without mine.
Where are you, my pretty?
Flaring my nostrils, I attempt to catch her scent trail, but the faint taste of slick in the air causes my cock to throb.
My knot thickens, making walking a bit awkward.
Longing to sink deep inside her, have her pussy milk me for all I’m worth makes need build within me.
I reach down, giving myself a squeeze through my jeans.
Jeez, this woman is messing with my head. Both of them.
“Oh, little Willow. Where are you?” I dare to whisper, knowing she might come at me with another weapon.
I hope she does. But nothing stirs. Not a single sound.
Tracking her scent, I make my way through her home.
Her very clean home. There’s enough mess to show she lives here, but it’s clear she’s a tidy person.
Everything in its spot. I prefer to live in chaos and mess, and I wonder whether that would be a problem for my sweet honeybee.
We can always fuck out our differences.
Keeping my eyes peeled, I continue my hunt.
My instincts won’t rest until I know Willow is safe at home and not beating herself up about the zapping and stabbing.
Personally, I love a woman with some fire.
Blood doesn’t scare me. But omegas are delicate, and I don’t want her to waste a single moment worrying.
Gy needed some electric shock therapy. Her reaction to me was a bit much, but I won’t hold a grudge. In fact, I’d love to give her some lessons. Improve her aim a bit, especially if she gives me a taste of sweet honey straight from the source.
At the back of the house, I locate her bathroom.
Another small space that has only the bare minimum.
Unworthy. She needs better accommodations immediately.
And I’ll let her know, just as soon as I find her.
My fingers twitch, wanting to snoop through her cupboards to learn everything I can about this woman who has so bewitched me. In for a penny, in for a pound.
I open it, disappointed when I find next to nothing. Brown contacts, which I already knew about. A bottle of contact solution and a blister packet of pills. Glancing at it, I grimace. Suppressants.
Maybe I can convince her to get off those. There’s no sex like heat sex to bring Alphas and omegas closer together. Plus, suppressants also act as birth control, and I want Willow round with my baby yesterday.
Mine. Not Gy’s. Her toothbrush sits beside the sink, but what snags my attention is the hairbrush with her honeysuckle perfume emanating from it. I can’t help myself. Reaching forward, I pluck the brush and slide it into my back pocket.
After peeling myself away from her insult of a bathroom, I wander down the hallway, which has two closed doors that I assume are our bedrooms. Flaring my nostrils, I take a deep breath but can’t tell which room her scent is coming from, so I reach for the knobs on both doors at once.
Might as well see where she is; this is the last place she could be hiding—or asleep.
The house looks bigger from the outside than it is on the inside.
Strange, but I guess that’s just how it is sometimes.
Holding my breath, I turn the knobs, then push them forward, crossing my fingers that neither squeak loud enough to wake her.
Fresh honeysuckle blooms from both spaces, but there’s not a person in either bed. Both bedrooms are made up exactly the same. Even the comforters and sheets look similar, and it’s easy to see neither is being slept in.
Where the hell is my omega? Determination fills me. I refuse to leave this place without answers. Getting eyes on my honeybee is the most important thing in my world.
She’s hiding in here, but where? And what about that infernal dog? Surely they aren’t out at two a.m.
A sudden noise reaches my ear. The snick of multiple locks being opened. The front door. Knife in hand, I rush to intercept whoever it is, but remain vigilant. My omega is missing, and there’s a chance she could be the one walking through the door.
Nobody gets to sneak in here besides me. But she’s allowed to enter her own home. Also, I’d cut off my own arm before harming a single hair on her head.
Stepping to the side of the frame, I press my back to the wall, the thrill of the hunt thrumming in my veins.
The door squeaks open, and I hide my footfalls beneath the sound. I’m not sure whether my girl already lives with some dude, but all evidence points to no. Pine trees and fresh air greet my senses, and I inhale their unique yet familiar aroma.
Either way, it’s not the sweet honeysuckle I was hoping for, so this fucker can die. With my hand on the knob, I go to shove the door shut, but whoever is on the other side beats me to it.
The door ricochets toward me, smacking into my face. It slams my nose hard, and pain radiates through my teeth.
Stealthy fucker.
I bite back my grunt and shift onto the balls of my feet. Leaping around the frame, I snap forward, knife in hand, ready to end his miserable life when my eyes land on his tactical gear.
All is not as it seems.
Shit. As a former soldier, attacking an officer is off the table unless they present a clear threat. And in this situation, I’m the one who’s on the wrong side of the law.
At the last possible second, I yank my knife away from his jugular.
“Who the fuck are you and what are you doing here?” I bark, weapon at the ready. One wrong answer and murder is back on the table.
“I’ve missed you, too, Dean.” I haven’t heard my real name in years, and it stops me in my tracks. I know this beta, and he clearly knows me.
Calloway. My past rises to greet me: torture, pain, and all. This man was there on my darkest days. So why is he here now?
“Why the fuck are you sneaking into my omega’s house at two in the morning?” The last I heard, he was doing some top-secret work with the feds. We haven’t connected in ages, but we’ve been through enough shit together that I trust him with my life.
“Your omega?” he challenges, voice full of sanction. “Does she know that?” Calloway holsters his weapon, and I do the same, glad there’s still trust between us, even if he’s glaring at me with ice-cold eyes.
“Of course, she knows. She’s wrapping her head around the idea as we speak.” I cross my arms over my chest, daring him to disagree, but the fucker laughs instead. The sound grates on my very last nerve. “You and your tactical gear aren’t needed here. Get out.”
Calloway doesn’t belong near the scent of my sweet omega’s slick, and I’m done with the discussion.
I take a step toward him, but he widens his stance, his hand inching toward his weapon.
But I pay him no mind, he can go ahead and shoot me, but it won’t change a thing.
I’m already so wrapped up in this woman, and I haven’t even had a taste.
“Can’t do that. You triggered the breach alarms. And since Willow hasn’t told me to stand down, you’re going to need to get out of her home. Whether that’s the easy way or the hard way is up to you. There’s a team standing by.” His words pierce my skull, and my mouth goes dry.
“You working small-town security now?” I ask for more information. For there to be an entire team ready to protect Willow, she must be involved in something huge.
“No.” His face is granite, giving not an inkling of information away, but I can read between the lines. Willow is a federal asset. For what, I have no idea, but one thing is abundantly clear—this needs careful handling.
And I’m not going to get eyes on her tonight. The feds will force me out of her home, and although I could take Calloway easily enough, I doubt I’ll be able to hold off an entire team on my own. Nor do I want to.
These are good men. Hurting them is not what I would prefer. And it will definitely land me in a cell for the rest of my life.
Never to see my omega again. If I want to spend time in this house, she’s going to need to invite me in…
“One final question, and I’ll leave peacefully,” I promise, even though my body’s protesting at a cellular level. “Is she here because we are?”
Calloway’s eyes flicker to mine, and he gives a nearly imperceptible nod, but it’s all I need. Willow needs our “fuck around and find out” reputation, and I’m ready to use my size, strength, and training to keep her demons at bay.
My honeybee has secrets, and soon, I’ll uncover every last one.