16. Cade
Chapter 16
Cade
I stare down at the last text that Grace sent.
I suspected she was drunk when she sent her first text. I haven’t texted with Grace a lot, but I know that she works in publishing. She values proper spelling, grammar, and punctuation, even in texts. She texts like she’s being graded on it.
Not now. Now she’s misspelling things, and being belligerent in a way she never is.
She’s definitely drunk.
I text her asking where she is several times before she finally answers.
GRACE: You never talk and now you won’t shut up over text. What is this? Who are you?? I’m at that one place. By the park. Big park. I dunno what it’s called.
Christ, she’s fucking plastered. Luckily, I know what she’s talking about. She means the state park. And that means…
Ah, shit. She’s at that one fuckin’ dive bar.
To say it’s not the safest of places is an understatement. That’s where all the rougher guys go to hang out. You tend to go to that dive bar when you’re spoiling for a fight or you really want to be left alone. I think I’ve only seen women in there two or three times, and they were always accompanied by a boyfriend or group of guys. I wouldn’t call it the center of a criminal empire, that’s for sure, but it’s rough. If a bar fight breaks out or something, Grace could easily be caught in the middle.
Or, worse. What if the wrong kind of rough guy is there and decides to take advantage? What if they can sense she’s an Omega?
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I swear loudly and shove my phone into my pocket, then hurry out to the garage to get my motorcycle. We tend to just take the pickup, but when we need to get somewhere real fast or want to just go riding through the mountains, Hendrix and I have our bikes.
I throw on my helmet and leather jacket, gloves, kneepads, then speed off. I’m definitely ignoring the speed limits, but if this is one of the few times a highway patrol is in our area—not likely but you never know—then the guy can just fucking tail me until we get to the bar. He can give me whatever ticket he wants when we get there, but I’m not letting anyone keep me from making sure Grace is safe.
When I get there, I practically throw myself off the bike. Only respect for my baby keeps me from letting her just fall to the ground and rushing in. I park her properly, then hurry inside.
It’s not busy, thank fuck. There are about five guys that look vaguely familiar, who I think own the other bikes I saw outside. They’re all huddled in a corner having a tense, quiet conversation about something. There’s two guys playing pool, and an older man who looks spectacularly drunk sitting on a stool at the far corner of the bar.
And there, chatting with slurred words to the lone bartender, is Grace.
My heart feels like it skips a beat. She’s slumped on top of the bar like she might fall off any second. I want to curl around her and snarl at everyone else in the room. I also want to backhand the bartender across the face. Grace is small, she’s not exactly packing a ton of weight. How much did this asshole let her drink?
I storm over, pulling out my wallet. “I thought they taught you guys to know when to cut someone off,” I snarl.
Grace perks her head up. She squints. “Cade?”
I slap several bills down on the bar. “That should cover it. Come on, we’re getting out of here.”
“No we’re—hey!”
I gently pick Grace up and carry her out, then set her down on her feet once we’re outside. “Yes, we are. We’re going home. You’ve had way too many.”
“Like you care.”
“I do care. I especially care if you’re setting yourself up to get hurt by drinking yourself sick. You’re going to have a hell of a hangover in the morning.”
“Worth it.” Grace slumps against me. “Ugh. You don’t even like me. You just pity me.”
“That’s not true.”
“Such a gentleman.” Her tone is scathing. “Rescuing the poor little Omega from making a bad decision. What did you think you’d find me here with a biker gang surrounding me like a movie?”
“No, but I am surprised you didn’t slide off the bar and split your head open.”
“Ugh,” she replies, very eloquently.
I can’t help the fondness that grips my heart in a vice. “Grace, please, let me get you home. I care about you being safe.”
Grace sniffles, but doesn’t protest as I put my arm around her and lead her toward my bike.
“Get on,” I order, letting go of her. She’ll have to wear my helmet, but it’s fine. I can risk it. I’ve been riding for years and can handle myself. The helmet’s adjustable, luckily.
Grace stares at the bike, her eyes wide and face pale. I frown. “Grace. Get on.”
She shakes her head, and I realize… she’s scared. “Nope,” she blurts out. “No, no, no thank you.”
“Grace, it’s perfectly safe.”
“You don’t know that!” she hisses. “These things are death traps!”
“Grace…”
She shakes her head. I’m sure part of it is that she’s drunk, but she really does look terrified. And to be fair maybe driving her on a motorcycle isn’t the smartest choice right now. She could easily get sick and throw up.
“I’m not getting on that thing,” she insists, her voice small and young. It cracks in the middle, and wow. I really am a sucker.
I glance at the bike. I’m pretty sure it’ll be safe. If you’re the type of person to come here for a drink, you’re the type of person who other people know better than to mess with, so I don’t think anyone will do anything about my bike if I leave it here. I can come back and get it. And if someone does take it, I can just track them down and teach them a lesson about private property.
“All right,” I say, my voice gruffer than I want it. “We can walk.”
Grace looks up at me in surprise, her blue eyes large and luminous in the light of the moon. “Really?”
I swallow hard and nod. I don’t trust my voice right now.
It’ll be a bit of a walk, but not terrible. It’ll give her a chance to sober up from the alcohol while she’s at it too.
For a bit it’s silent, just the two of us. It’s nice, actually. I don’t like how much other people talk all the time, and how uncomfortable they are with silence, but I hate being silent with someone I don’t feel comfortable around. I’d rather just be on my own.
But with Grace, it’s not awkward. She doesn’t make me feel like I have to talk or like she’s uncomfortable with the silence. It’s nice. I haven’t been able to just exist in silence like this with someone other than my pack since… I can’t remember, really.
After a bit, though, she does speak. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“You had to come out and get me. I’m so sorry.” Grace looks small and young. It makes me want to curl around her and protect her. “I just wanted to get away. I feel so—so—so lost.”
“Being an Omega is a hell of a shift.”
“You know the thing is? I don’t think it’s just the Omega thing.”
That surprises me. “You’ll find another boyfriend. One that’s a lot better than that douche canoe.”
Grace laughs. “No, I mean…” She trails off. She’s not slurring her words as much, but she’s clearly still tipsy. I have to keep putting a hand on her shoulder to gently guide her as we walk.
“I’ve written stuff.”
I look down at her. Usually this is where I’d feel pressure to talk, to ask questions, but not with Grace. I just keep my silence, and she keeps talking.
“I work at a publisher and I like the work. I really do. I like helping authors and putting together a team and making sure every aspect of the book is perfect from the cover to the launch. I’m not afraid of hard work. I just…” Grace sighs. “But I have written. I’ve just never told anyone. Never shared it. I’ve been too scared.”
Silence falls again. I didn’t think Grace could be scared of something like that. Grace is fearless, or so she always seemed to me. She was always elegant, always lovely, but she never had a problem keeping up with us men. Aiden was gracious about letting her tag along with us even though she was his little sister. Most brothers wouldn’t have been able to stand it. She always got great grades, and she set off for the big city, made a successful career for herself. That’s a lot more than most people in our town can claim.
But here she is, telling me that she’s scared.
“I think it’s the kind of stories I’m writing,” she admits. “I write—they’re love stories. Romances. And I feel like such a fraud. I remember when I got with William I thought I would finally know what it meant and I wouldn’t feel like such a fake anymore and yet inspiration didn’t come and it all felt the same as before.” She takes a deep breath. “That’s really how I should’ve known that things weren’t going to work out. Not his behavior. That should’ve been the clue.”
I work through that in my mind. “Are you saying you’ve never been in love?”
“Yes. I don’t know what it’s like. How could I ever write a proper love story if I’ve never been in love myself?”
I can’t help it—I snort. “Trust me, that’s not a bad thing.”
Grace frowns up at me, wavering a little in her step. I gently guide her. “How can you say that?”
“Because love is the most painful thing there is, trust me.”
Grace looks at me. I can feel her looking at me. I don’t look at her. I don’t want to get into it. I have my pack, and that’s enough. I don’t need anything more. Hoping for more—wanting more—that’s dangerous.
Silence falls again.
Eventually, Grace says, “You’re probably wondering why I asked Jesse to do what he did.”
I nod. No point in denying it. The image of her riding Jesse’s face, gasping and moaning in the throes of orgasm… yeah, I’ll never get that out of my head. Just thinking about it has my cock twitching.
“I said that being an Omega isn’t the only reason I feel lost, and it’s true. I think it’s made me admit the other ways I feel lost. In my career. In love. But I still feel like… like… like my body isn’t mine anymore. I have all these feelings now, these urges, and I can’t control them. I feel like I’m a teenager again only so much worse. Everything is in service to this stupid body and these stupid hormones.”
I remember when I first presented as an Alpha and feeling the same way. I felt crazy, wanting sex all the time. That’s another reason not to fall in love. I hear that when you’re an Alpha and your Omega goes into heat, the desire’s even more insane. That’s the last thing I need.
“I just want to figure out how this whole thing works,” Grace admits. “I want to feel like I belong in this body again. Like I own it, not like it owns me. I want to feel confident in who I am and know I can handle my own needs.”
That’s entirely fair, I think. Any Omega who bloomed late would probably feel the same. But at the same time, her words have my cock filling and my blood heating up. The urge to tell her that I could make her feel good in her skin again, that I could take care of her needs, is so strong that I can taste the words on the back of my tongue.
I swallow the words.
As much as I understand and as reasonable as I think it is, to give into my urges and take her to bed would be dangerous. I agree with Jesse and the others, that we shouldn’t do anything like that with Grace. We need to keep her at arm’s length. For her own good, and ours.
We finally get home. I have to carry Grace the last bit of the way. She’s sober, but exhausted, and I’m not going to make her walk when it’s easy to carry her. I let the others know she’s home safe—well, I let Easton and Hendrix know, apparently Jesse went to bed and is ignoring me when I knock on his door—and I get her into bed.
Grace is beautiful when she sleeps. She’s beautiful all the time, but I just feel extra soft looking at her as I make sure the covers and quilt are pulled around her snugly. She’s asleep around me, an Omega asleep around an Alpha, because she trusts me. She trusts that I’m not going to take advantage of her.
It means more than I can say.
I go into my own room and pull out my computer. I feel bad that we can’t give her what she needs. I know that it’s the best thing for her, and for us, but Grace is right in needing to know what it means to be an Omega and to feel comfortable in her own body again.
But there are ways for her to do that without our help, or the help of another Alpha.
I go to a website that I know has a lot of good reliable reviews, and I order her some toys. Toys just for an Omega. Dildos with knots, special vibrators… everything an Omega could need to pleasure herself.
This should help. Now she can figure it all out, and none of us has to get involved. A solution to this whole mess.
I go to sleep feeling a lot more reassured, something in me purring in satisfaction that I could help this Omega.