Chapter Twenty-Two – Warren
I sit backwards on a chair, my legs spread around the back of it. My arms lean against the top of the chair, and I toy absentmindedly with a switchblade. Back and forth, over and over again, I flick open the blade and then close it with a masterful flick of my wrist. I’m in one of the warehouses Alabaster Security owns on the outskirts of the city, and I’m not alone in the room.
No, there’s a second chair a few feet away from me, and in this chair sits another man. Let’s just say he’s seen better days.
Alabaster Security provides a range of services to its customer base, including personal bodyguards, security details for large events, and the occasional muscle, when it’s needed. Everything we do isn’t always on the up-and-up, but sometimes you need a little extra oomph to clean things up.
And sometimes that extra oomph involves a bit of torture.
That’s what I’m good at. Getting information. Getting to the bottom of things. You can pull weeds all you want, but if you really wish to rid yourself of them for good, you have to dig ‘em up by the roots and leave nothing behind.
Providing security for people and events means nothing if, ultimately, the reason they need the added security continues to exist in the first place. My job is getting to the bottom of things and eliminating risks for our clients.
“Let’s try this one more time,” I say, slow in getting up and walking over to my special guest. Tony Lucchi, scum of the earth. Alabaster Security had run into him a few times before, but this time? Let’s just say it’s the last straw. I move closer to him and open the switchblade right in front of his face, causing him to wince. “Who hired you to bother our client? Tell me who you work for, and all of this can stop right now.”
Usually the threat of violence gets people like him to talk, especially if they’re betas, but Tony’s got balls. I’ll give him that. Using alpha dominance on him only gets him to sputter out half words and his face to turn red while the veins pop in his forehead. It’s an ugly sight.
All he does is glare at me. He’s long since stopped struggling at his restraints; no way in hell is he going to bust out of that chair thanks to all the rope tying him to it.
“Look, I know you must work for an alpha. All I’m asking for is his name. That’s it. You don’t have to tell me where he is. Me and my crew can find him on our own.” I hold the switchblade closer to his left eye, allowing him to stare at his reflection in the shiny steel. “If you don’t start talking, I might have to take out that fat tongue of yours—since you’re not using it, you won’t miss it.”
That makes the man pale. “I don’t know nothing. The guys and I was just told to put some pressure on Miles and his store—”
Nothing I haven’t heard before. I make an unimpressed sound and shrug as I bring the sharp end of the switchblade to his mouth. “Open up,” I say. “Time to start sawing.” When Tony doesn’t part his lips for me, I press the cold steel against his lower lip and push it inside, cutting his lip in the process and using it as a mini pry bar of sorts.
That gets him to whimper as two tiny cuts appear on his lip. Blood follows.
“I’m going to be honest with you,” I say as I use the switchblade to pry apart his upper and lower jaw. “Out of everything I’ve ever done, I’ve never cut out a man’s tongue before. I don’t really know where is best to cut. I imagine it’s going to hurt either way.” As I muse aloud, I run the switchblade along the top of his tongue, flat so it doesn’t cut, and he closes his eyes.
I bet the bastard is wishing he was somewhere else, anywhere else.
I act like I’m going to start cutting, but I pause right before I do, asking him, “Do you think you’ll be able to talk without a tongue? What about eating solid food? I guess it depends how far back of the tongue I cut—you kind of need it to funnel the food into your throat, don’t you? Eh, I don’t really know. Never paid much attention in anatomy.”
“Wait!” Tony whimpers out, though the word is kind of garbled thanks to the knife in his mouth. “I’ll tell you.” He only says that last part once I pull the switchblade out.
“Well,” I pause for dramatic effect, “go on, then. Tell me who you work for, beta, and I won’t snip that fat tongue out of your mouth.”
He opens his mouth to spill all of his secrets as the blood from his lips begins to pool on his chin, but right then my phone goes off. Son of a…
I pull away from him and retrieve my phone, holding up a finger to the tied-up beta as my eyes glance at the screen. My anger and annoyance over my phone ringing at such an inopportune time fades the exact moment I see it’s Mercedes calling.
My mood instantly brightens, and I hold the switchblade against Tony’s neck when I answer her on the third ring. “Hey—”
I don’t think she hears me, though. She talks fast, “Warren? I need you to come home.” The tone of her voice makes her come across as scared, and I don’t like the pit that forms in my stomach because of it. “Please.”
She doesn’t strike me as an omega who begs for anything, so hearing her say that last word does something to me.
Mercedes ends the call before I can say a single word more. Shit.
I stuff my phone into my pocket and glare at Tony. “You better be just as talkative to my brother. If I come back here and hear you didn’t say a thing to him? Your tongue won’t be the only thing I cut off.” With a jerk of my hands, I close the switchblade and stuff it into its rightful place on my body—my right outer thigh, to be exact.
Pushing out of the room, I enter a hall. I should call Darius and Nic, but my first goal is to race home and make sure our omega is all right. But before I go…
I hurry to the large, open space of the warehouse, where my brother stands before a group of five alphas, training them in takedown maneuvers. The oldest out of the Alabaster crew, Pax has never felt quite as brotherly to me as Darius and Nic—probably due to the fact that by the time I joined their family, he was already out on his own.
Pax is just like Darius, super tall, super strong, and super fucking intense. He’s got a few more wrinkles around his eyes from that perpetual scowl he wears—you can tell that’s where Darius learned it from. He wears all black, much like me. His blond hair is cut short on the sides, a bit longer on the top. He has the exact same green eyes as Darius. If there wasn’t three years between them, you might think they were twins.
When I whistle to get his attention, he excuses himself from his training squad and comes over to me.
“Did Tony talk?” Pax asks, assuming that’s what I’m here for.
“He’s about ready to. You’ll have to take over for me. I just got a call. I’m needed at home.”
The frown he gives me right then is legendary. He doesn’t have a pack of his own; he’s the very definition of a lone alpha wolf. He’s always made it clear that his job is his life and he never wants to give it up. He is our parents’ chosen successor for that very reason.
“The omega,” Pax says, not bothering to hide his unhappiness—and even though he’s my adopted brother, I feel like I want to punch him in the face for daring to reference Mercedes with that attitude. “Can’t she handle a day alone?”
All I can do is narrow my eyes at him and bite back what I really want to say. Until he gets himself a mate, he’ll never understand what it’s like, not really, and at the rate he’s going, he might never have one.
A muscle in his jaw tenses. “Fine. I’ll finish up with that asshole. Go home to your precious omega and save the day, or whatever.” As I walk away, he calls after me, “Mom and Dad want to meet her, you know. You guys better get your shit together so I’m not caught in the middle.”
I’m tempted to flick him off, but I know Pax is already heading toward the interrogation room where Tony is, so he wouldn’t see it, anyway. Whatever. He’s family, so I’m forced to love him, but that doesn’t mean I have to like him all the time.
Hurrying to my car, I hop inside and drive like a madman home. What could’ve happened that would make Mercedes sound so terrified? And, not that I’m complaining that she dialed me, but why wouldn’t she call Nic? She spent the entire last week with him; out of the three of us, if there was one alpha she bonded with the most, it was him.
Then again, I’m not complaining. I don’t mind that she called me at all.
I break every speed law on the way home, and thankfully I don’t get pulled over or anything. I race down the driveway and don’t even wait for the garage door to fully open before I shut my car off and duck underneath it. I race inside the house, calling out for her, “Red? Where are you?”
I push deeper into the house and find her in the living room, holding onto a thick kitchen knife. When she sees me, she stands, a little unsteady on her feet thanks to her ankle. Her amber eyes are wide, her lips drawn in worry.
“What’s with the knife? What happened?” I ask, suddenly remembering what was said before, that she might be running from someone. I offered to take care of whoever it is for her, but she clearly didn’t want to keep talking about it.
She swallows hard and, still gripping the knife with one hand, she reaches for me and slips her other into mine. Just like that, I forget all about the reason I raced home, the only thing my mind can focus on is the small, soft hand in mine.
Mercedes leads me out of the living room, through the house, to the front door. I was so concerned with getting inside I didn’t even notice the broken window next to the door when I pulled up the driveway.
“What—” I stop when I see the large rock sitting on the floor, an uppercase J scribbled on it in what looks to be permanent marker. “When did this happen? Did you get a good look at their faces?” And, most importantly: “Who’s J?”
Her mouth is shut, and she refuses to open it, but she does turn those big, brown eyes my way and blink, and just like that I’m not staring at our feisty omega; I’m looking deeply into the eyes of a scared girl.
Someone is out there, someone who terrifies her to her core… someone she doesn’t feel comfortable yet to discuss—and that someone found her here.
We need to up security. Install cameras. Stuff we never had to worry about, given our last name and the quiet neighborhood we live in. We have an omega in the house now; it’s something we should’ve thought about sooner. Our top priority should always be to make sure she’s safe.
“Come on,” I whisper, and I bring her back to the living room and sit her down. I don’t try to take the knife away from her; if it makes her feel safer, then she can hold onto it for as long as she wants. “Let me call the others.”
As I pull out my phone, she finally breaks her silence, “Wait.” She angles her head up at me, giving me a pleading look. “Can you just… sit with me?” Her voice sounds so small; I hate it. I hate how this asshole, whoever he is, makes her act so differently. She’s not the omega I grew used to this past week.
“Sure.” How could I deny her when she’s giving me such an earnest, desperate expression? I sit down beside her, laying my phone to my left. I pull her onto my lap and wrap my arms around her, holding onto her tightly, tightly enough she better know I’m not going to let go.
Not now, not ever. If she thinks she’s going to run away from me, from this pack, she has another thing coming. I’m fairly certain Nic won’t let her go, either, and Darius? Well, jury is still out on him, but judging from the way he fumbled his coffee this morning, Mercedes is in his head.
We gave her an out, yes, so we could never force her to stay, but even so, we won’t let her go without a fight. We’ll fight for her, as long as it takes.
She sets the knife near my phone with a sigh, turning her face into my chest as she clings to me with both hands. As she nuzzles into me, a low, deep purring sound emanates from my chest, a primal sound meant to comfort her, just as my arms around her should.
She’s safe with me here. She’s protected. Whoever she’s running from can’t get her… even if he can come to the house and terrorize her.
It won’t happen again. As soon as she’s calmed, I’ll give Darius a call and he’ll get everything set up. We’ll be fine. We’ll make it through this. No bastard is going to come swooping in and hurt our omega. She’s ours. This asshole doesn’t know what pack he’s dealing with here.
“I got you,” I whisper. “You’re safe. I won’t let anyone hurt you.” As I croon to her, I remember our little date. How she listened to me without judgment, how she saw the scars on my back, how everything about that night was perfect.
She got me to open up. I never open up to strangers, but it was easy to do with her. She makes things easy that would otherwise be difficult for me. I can’t lose her. I just can’t. It’s been just over a week and, somehow, she’s become my whole world.
I run a hand through her hair, and she responds by angling her head back on my shoulder and gazing up at me through those impossibly thick lashes. Her pupils dilated, possibly when I began to purr for her. She’s putty on my lap, curling into me like my lap has become her new home.
Her sweet, candy-coated scent fills the air, and it’s no longer twinged with fear. I breathe her in, and the purr in my chest morphs into something deeper, more animalistic. Less of a humming purr and more of a hungry rumble.
“Warren,” she whispers my name in a way no one ever had before, and I react without thinking.
I kiss her.
My mouth meets hers in an achingly slow kiss, my lips touching hers for the first time. It’s everything I could’ve imagined and more. Her lips are softer than they look, so plump they’re downright suck-able. They fit perfectly against mine, the slight push and pull of our lips together not a battle, but merely an acceptance of the fires burning within us both.
She responds by kissing me back in earnest, moaning softly into my mouth as she does so, and I swallow up the sound like she’s my personal goldmine and I’m the last miner, set to excavate every last bit of gold I can.
And, to no one’s surprise, she tastes as good as she smells. Goddamn it. The moment our lips meet, all logical thoughts from my head vanish just like that. I’m a man on a mission, and that mission is to steal the breath out of her lungs and fill it with mine. I take her bottom lip between my teeth and give her a tiny nibble, and she moans again, a soft, fluttery sound that reverberates in my core and hardens my cock.
Speaking of…
A mere kiss from her can make me go from limp to rock hard in a matter of seconds. My length strains against my pants, crying out for its release, and I’m certain she feels it under her ass since she’s on my lap—but she doesn’t seem to mind one bit. In fact, she wiggles her ass while we kiss, teasing me, tempting me, making my cock strain against its confinement.
Once I get a nice, long taste of her lips, I drop my mouth to her neck and breathe her in, an unfettered, unobstructed, front-row seat to her delicious scent. My nose buried in the crook of her neck, I’m in heaven. Fuck, I never want this to stop.
She whimpers against me, and her scent grows even stronger; if I have to guess, I’d say she gushed a bit of slick between those tensing thighs of hers. The scent of that slick is enough to send me overboard and make me want to tear off her clothes and have her right here.
But that wouldn’t be right. That would be taking advantage of her during a time when she’s stressed to the max—some might argue that’s the perfect time for an alpha’s knot when you’re dealing with an omega, but given the reason why she’s so stressed… it’s better to wait.
“You make it really hard for me to stay good,” I whisper against her skin. “I really, really want to be bad right now.” A groan escapes me when she wiggles her ass in a way that makes the tip of my cock ooze precum. If she’s not careful with that cute little ass, she might make me come in my own pants.
How embarrassing would that be?
“I need to call Darius and let him know what happened,” I say, slow in pulling my face away from her neck. She cracks her eyelids open, gazing up at me with pouty, oh so kissable lips.
God. I don’t know how I lasted this long with her in the house. She really is enough to make me lose my damn mind.
I smooth down her hair. “You can tell us who you’re hiding from. We can help you.” In a quieter voice, I add, “Or I can help you, if you don’t want to tell the others. If you’re not ready. That’s okay. Just give me a name and I’ll be your attack dog. I’ll rip off the hands of anyone who hurt you.”
The look she gives me right then tells me she wants to divulge that information to me, but at the same time, she’s not quite ready to. Maybe she’s ashamed, or maybe it’s something else.
Maybe this asshole, whoever he is, really did a number on her while she was at Solus. Or, hell, maybe it went farther back than that. It’s more than obvious she doesn’t trust alphas, so it doesn’t take much to assume the problem is another alpha.
Whoever he is, wherever he ran off to… I’ll get him. Someday.
In the end, all she does is slide off my lap and get to her feet. “Call the others. I, um, I’m going to my room.” Mercedes ducks her head, making her appear even smaller than she usually is, and she hurries away as best she can with her sore ankle.
I want to run after her, to pull her into my arms again, but I don’t. I need to call Darius and Nic. The others need to be made aware of what happened here, and we need to get on top of replacing that window and adding security to the house ASAP.
It hurts me to see her like this. I never thought… after what happened to my mom, I told myself I’d never put an omega in harm’s way by being with her. I thought I’d be just like my old man: quick to rage, bite first and ask questions later. But with Mercedes, I don’t feel any sort of anger.
No, the only thing I want to do is protect her, to be a better alpha than my father. I want to be better for her, for the pack, for all of us.
But mostly for her.