Chapter 7 #2
It’s fair to say I know her. Think of her as a friend.
That it doesn’t even feel presumptuous to claim that relationship says something on its own.
Over the years, I’ve picked up snippets about her and, more recently, her men.
Enough to know that Ethan Black and Ryker Sherwin are not the sort of men deployed for ordinary operations.
Well, not Ethan Black, for sure. I distinctly remember Lilly mentioning he had retired from field work three months ago when we last met. She’d been thrilled about it.
Their presence, both of them, means something far more serious is unfolding than the mission briefing suggested.
Zeb isn’t surprised to see them. Maybe he doesn’t know who they are?
Only the introductions have come to an end. Both men are looking at Zeb, and when I check, he’s staring right back at them. The look passing between them is a conversation in itself.
A prickling of unease grips me as I consider how I was a last-minute inclusion in this mission. I’m not supposed to be here. Something happened with the allocated healer, and I was slotted in at the eleventh hour, in what should have been downtime.
Zeb jerks his head to the side in that unmistakable we need to talk motion.
Ethan’s gaze sharpens.
Ryker quirks a brow.
Well, damn. What does this mean?
Zeb
I motion Ethan to one side. Ryker’s a nosy bastard, so of course he follows. I glance between them.
“Something is up,” Ethan says slowly, his brows pulling together in a scowl that says he doesn’t want anything to be up, and if it is, he’s going to fuck me up for dragging it to his door.
“Don’t give me that fucking look,” I mutter.
His brows lift a touch.
“You were projecting death and mayhem,” Ryker offers him, helpfully. He has a soft, even tone that’s at odds with most of the bullshit that comes out of his mouth. He turns back to me. “’Sup, Zeb?”
“I’ve got a problem with the healer” —They both throw a speculative look over my shoulder— “Don’t fucking look!” I hiss. “What are you, rookies?”
Ethan looks like he’s swallowed a rock. Ryker smirks like being called a rookie makes him proud.
“She’s onto me.”
“What do you mean ‘onto you’?” Ethan grits out. “If you’ve fucked up, I’ll fu—”
I hold up a hand. He shuts up.
“She’s not the healer I was supposed to get.” I blow out a breath. “The healer I should have gotten was exchanged at the last minute. And, well, my recruiter didn’t pick a straight healer replacement.”
“What the fuck is she, then?” Ethan demands his scowl deepening.
“Spiritual and mind, mostly.” I grimace. “A small percentage of physical healing. The combo is particularly useful in these sorts of operations.”
“Why didn’t you ask for someone else?!” Ethan growls. “What are you, a rookie?”
Ryker snickers. Ethan thumps his shoulder.
“I didn’t get an option,” I say, glaring right back. “The recruiter was an asshole on a power trip. We didn’t get into her details before he demanded to know if I could ‘handle an omega.’” I adjust my collar. “I might’ve smacked his head into the desk.”
“Nice work,” Ryker says, smirking, and clapping me on the arm. “I’ve wanted to thump a recruiter a time or two myself. Good job they’ve never left me alone near one when I’m in possession of a rocket-propelled grenade launcher, I’d—”
“The recruiter’s face smacked into the call button on his desk,” I cut Ryker off. He has a lot of issues, and many of them involve unregulated use of grenade launchers…
Ethan is now wearing a look that says he might strangle me… or Ryker.
“Esme came straight into the room,” I continue.
“Saw what I’d done. I reacted to her emotional state.
Took her back to the room.” And lost my fucking mind.
“Look, I’m not comfortable with being a controller.
The skin doesn’t fit me right. It was only supposed to be for the cover.
It pretty much went downhill when I fucked her. ”
Silence greets my words.
“Deep down, I knew something was off,” I say. “I left her in the bed, after, and checked through the mission file, and there it was, blinking at me. She’s going to ask questions. My gut is telling me she won’t believe you if you say I was lost in battle.”
Ethan growls.
Ryker grins.
Ethan growls at Ryker. “What the fuck is wrong with you, grinning like a maniac? Now I need to go in Zeb’s place. Lilly will know. Then she won’t let me fuck her for a week. She’ll blame you for not stopping me, and she won’t let you fuck her for a week either.”
“It’ll be fine. You did some research on controllers, yeah?” Ryker asks me.
“Of course I fucking did.”
He pats my shoulder and steps up close, expression intent and earnest. “We’re about to go in.
Everything is ready. Take your sweet little omega aside and fuck her hard.
The kind of fucking where she can barely stand afterward and definitely can’t string a coherent sentence together, never mind question your intentions.
Then escort her to the medical area. Tell her that her virgin ass is on the line if she disobeys your orders to stay put. ”
“What if she’s not an ass virgin?” Ethan mutters, sounding exasperated. “Why the fuck would you feel the need to add this detail!”
“It feels relevant,” Ryker says, turning to Ethan. “Even if she’s had that cherry popped, it still makes most omegas at least a bit cautious…. Unless they’re a complete masochist.” He turns back to me. “Is she into pain, do you think?”
“I’ve fucked her once!” Technically twice. “How the fuck would I know?”
“Well,” Ryker continues in the same tone as if we could be discussing weather patterns, and not the merits of using ass-fucking as a viable threat to gain omega obedience.
“The last thing you want to do is trigger her brat mode. Use your best judgment. Lilly will pretty much do anything under the threat of Ethan and his belt. But you know, every omega is different… So, back to the plan. Tell her you got an urgent call to assist. Tell her to stay put. Double-time it over to join us at the front. If we’re lucky, Jenda won’t even make it off planet.
But if she does, you need to be with her.
” His easy-going facade drops, and darkness takes its place. “You need to finish her.”