Chapter 3
Three
HOLLIS
My heart is thundering in my chest, and all I want is for this pack to leave so I can fall apart. I always told myself that I’m fine alone. No one could possibly want someone who is half a person. How can I love anyone when I’m missing a huge part of myself?
These are the questions I hold tightly to myself. I never date, I smoothly decline anyone who shows interest in me, redirecting it in a different direction.
This isn’t something I ever thought I’d have to navigate through. All four alphas of Pack Ledger are my scent matches. I’ve found a way to discreetly smell each one of them, and there’s no question about it. They need to get the fuck out of my sight and never cross my path again.
It’s what is best for everyone.
“I could just kill them all if it’ll get the deer in the headlights look out of your eyes,” Caleb murmurs in my ear.
Brice is glaring at how close the other alpha is, but I refuse to move away. Caleb and Lars have said they would swing by to see me for the last week, but haven’t had a chance to. Between their busy schedules, I don’t take offense to it.
I’m just as bad about being able to find free time. Unfortunately, I can’t just call them about what I have to tell them. It has to be done in person.
Lars gazes at the alphas with disapproval, his black rimmed glasses adding to the gravity of it. Even on his best day, he is grumpy.
“I believe Hollis asked you to leave,” he says. “We’re kidnapping her for dinner and drinks. She works too damn hard.”
“So do you,” I tease, smiling as I escape from under his brother’s arm. “I have a mountain of work, but I suppose for you, I could be persuaded to leave early.”
I’m aware of how flirtatious that sounded, but Lars and Caleb may as well be family without the DNA to prove it. They also know me very well, and they both swing their eyes toward me.
“Anything for you, Hol,” Caleb says, picking up on the underlying current of the room. “Now, whoever you all are, you’ve overstayed your welcome.”
“Where is your secretary?” Brice asks, crossing his arms. “This isn’t necessarily a great part of town either. Why would you have wall to wall windows for your place of work?”
“Excuse me?” I ask, moving back to sit on the edge of my desk.
I’ve noticed it keeps them off balance because the position flashes my thigh.
“As you were very adamant about, we don’t know each other.
I’ve been managing my own affairs for longer than you’ve been in business. Go away before you embarrass yourself.”
“Since you insisted on thrusting yourself into our affairs with your cute little misguided mixer, I think?—”
Forcing air into my lungs doesn’t help because of how much their presence is affecting me.
Remy’s outburst and the way he speaks about an event I’ve been organizing in an attempt to keep Emilia from manipulating omegas in a vulnerable position makes me see red.
My fingers itch to stab the fucker, but I try only to draw my weapons if I need to defend myself or kill them.
Otherwise, I show how capable I really am.
“Misguided?” I ask, raising my brow. “I usually do my own dirty work, but I am two seconds away from asking Caleb and Lars to throw you out. You feel I offended you, but I’ve definitely just been insulted.”
I can feel the tension in my friends on either side of me as they take stock of the situation.
“Misguided?” Lars repeats, shaking his head. “No, I think you’re confused. Let me help your small minds wrap around this. Emilia Richardson uses her position to kidnap omegas and sell them to auction houses. It’s a closely kept secret, gentlemen. Hollis isn’t being paid for this either.”
“I saw you’re not charging anyone to attend,” Remy says, swallowing thickly. “I misspoke, Hollis. I’m really sorry. We have a penchant for being hotheads, though we keep it well managed for the most part. We had this idea… Don’t you have private benefactors for this?”
“No,” I say, not at all impressed with them.
“What about sponsors?” Malcolm asks, steeling his spine. He looks like the CEO that everyone knows when they think about Naughty Tote. “Do you have anyone donating toward the gift bags for this event?”
Honestly, this is something on my list of things to do this week.
“No to sponsors, the second is on my to do list,” I say coolly. “I don’t really know why you’re poking holes and asking questions about an event you consider silly.”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” Remy grunts. “You fucking get under my skin, Omega.”
Ha, yeah I just bet I do. Asshole.
“Let’s try this again,” Malcolm interjects.
“The Naughty Tote would like to take responsibility for your gift bags as a gesture of good faith. We really don’t want to leave you with the impression that what you’re doing isn’t important.
I had no idea this event was happening until the invitation. How many people are you expecting?”
“I’m expecting one hundred single omegas and a hundred packs based on my capacity for the venue,” I sigh.
At his surprise, I shrug. I overinvited, knowing that I would still be filling spots up to a week before the event. The people I invite and expect to come are two different things. It’s just the way that events go.
“It has to be an even playing field. Not everyone will pair off, and that’s expected. However, when there are more of one than the other, it can lead to desperation or aggression due to scarcity. I’ve seen it happen with other events that I haven’t been in charge of and it’s not pretty.”
“Do you seriously think you’ll have that much interest?” Remy asks.
The question sounds callous, but they have no idea how I work.
“This event is already seventy percent full,” I say. “I have a large pool of clients that I reached out to first, the invitations were simply the last step to filling this event to capacity.”
“You know what you’re doing,” Brice murmurs, and I might think about preening under any other circumstance. His intense blue eyes remind me of gorgeous, clear ocean water where you can see the bottom for miles.
If they hadn’t insulted me and they weren’t my scent matches, I might be more likely to be nice. My job involves networking with others, and these alphas aren’t half bad on the eyes.
They just need to get the fuck away from mine.
“Again with the insults,” I mutter, my fingers moving over my cleavage. My knife is there and the reminder is helping me to ground myself.
I’m capable of surviving anything I need to…
“What do you mean she’s ‘good’ at this?” Lars scoffs. “She’s been doing this for ten fucking years. You honestly should leave before she stabs you. Hollis, drop your hand.”
Sighing, I pull my mind away from thoughts of killing them all.
“I’m very good at what I do,” I mutter. I don’t need to brag in order to get my point across. “I don’t really need anything from you all. Now that I’m seeing you in person, you’re not a good fit for my event anyway.”
“Are we doomed to this dance, Hollis?” Brice asks, his lips curled into a charming smile. “We’ll cover the gift bags for the entire event, and also donate ten thousand dollars as a sponsor. All we ask is that you talk about us favorably during your opening speech.”
Blinking, I shake my head. “Why would you do that? A sponsorship that large would carry signage throughout the event, mention on the event branding and website, and?—”
“If we didn’t come in like a pack of elephants instead of business owners, then I would be inclined to agree,” Brice says. “However, we fucked up, which means the benefits are going to heavily favor you instead of us.”
“That’s very generous of you,” I say, thinking about how that would allow us some flexibility in the budget for advertising as well.
“It’s not at all,” he denies. “Aisling is the sweetest person on the planet, and I have a feeling she may be calling me to give me a piece of her mind if she finds out about this.”
Smirking, I let him stew. It’s obvious that Brice works on the analytics aspect and public relations for the company. I doubt Aisling would lose her shit over this, she’s more likely to ply me with alcohol in an effort to tell her why I’m kicking my scent matches out.
That is…if I tell her about any of this. I have many facets about me, but most people only know one because that’s what I show my passion about. Did I mention that I’m a Capricorn?
“I just bet she would,” I say secretly instead. “If that’ll be all, gentlemen?”
“No, that’s not all,” Remy says, taking a step forward into my space from where I sit. “Since we’re going to be working together, I do have some concerns.”
“We?” I ask.
“Yes, I decide what goes in any donated gift bags,” he says. “In that aspect, we will be working together.”
“I’m unsure what concerns you could possibly have in that regard,” I reply.
“What kind of security measures do you have for yourself in this place?” he asks. “It’s clear you work late, but you said yourself that after a certain time of the day, you lock the door.”
“For fuck’s sake,” Lars grumbles. “You know I dislike this particular piece of our background, Hol, but I think it’ll get them off your back.”
“Are you suggesting I play darts with them with my knives?” I ask, twisting to look up at him with a wicked grin.
“That could be fun,” Caleb purrs, wrapping me in a hug.
Does he know how close I am to breaking? Blinking rapidly to clear any hint of tears, I let myself relax into his arms. I just need to get through the next few minutes. Make myself out to be really scary so they’ll run far away.
Caleb pulls away, continuing to ignore the low growls coming from the pack in front of us. I don’t even think they realize they’re doing it. Even Lars is hiding his surprise. I’m going to have to explain this to them at least.
“How many weapons are you hiding under that pretty dress?” Caleb asks.
Smirking because he’s trying to get under their skin now, I shrug.
“Four, give or take the wire keeping my braid from coming apart,” I say.