Chapter 1 #2
“Fucker couldn’t tell us apart,” Wilder says with a heavy sigh. “Lore was hit while fighting, and didn’t even know where the shot came from. There are a lot of loose ends to work through, and I have to call Lore’s brother.”
“Brother,” I breathe.
“Yeah, baby. His younger brother,” Wilder says. “You’re about to get a crash course in our fucked up family tree. We’re not letting you go. We can’t. I’m not even going to say we’re sorry, because we aren’t. I’m fucking struggling with this, and I won’t pretend to be a good man.”
“I think good men are a dime a dozen,” Storm says seriously, taking a right turn. “Give me the ones who are broken, fucked up, and still choose brotherhood and their girl when shit hits the fan. I’ll take loyalty over someone that’s ‘good’ any day.”
I let that sit as I mull over his words.
I’ve known a lot of good men as well as men who do shitty things because it’s the right thing to do.
That seems as if it shouldn’t make sense, but it’s the same as having the villain burn the world down for you instead of sacrificing your life for the greater good.
While I understand this, I’m still too much of a mess to make any decisions. It’s probably for the best that I can't reject my scent matches. I just lost one of them, I don’t think my soul can handle losing anyone else.
“I’m here,” Wilder whispers, holding me tightly as I gasp out a sob. “Cry, scream, I don’t fucking care, baby. Don’t hide from us.”
In a strange way, it makes sense that he wanted me to keep it together at the hospital. I broke half a dozen rules by breaking the news of Lore’s death to someone I’m in a relationship with. But there was no one at the front desk when Wilder picked me up and walked out of the hospital.
No witnesses means I still have a job when I’m ready to come back. I have money in the bank, a place to sleep, and a car. All of the things I felt I needed to survive are ticked off the list. I’m willing to hit pause on life for one fucking second so I can process what’s happening.
Pretending this doesn’t hurt, despite the short time I knew Lore, would be a lie and disrespectful to him.
Fuck, why does this make so much sense, despite how twisted it is?
“Breathe, Marie,” Wilder reminds me, his body shuddering against me as a ragged half breath, half cry explodes from my body. “That’s a good girl. Again. It’s okay if it hurts.”
Tears fall faster than I can blink them away, and I vaguely realize my hand is against Wilder’s bare chest.
“What happened to your shirt?” I ask, my heartbeat racing as I gasp out a sob. It’s as if my nervous system is screaming along with my soul.
“I tore it off to provide pressure on Lore’s wound,” Wilder says simply. “We didn’t have a lot of options. Lean against my skin, Marie. You’re freezing.”
The unspoken words that he’s very warm ring loudly in my ears as I shift so I can feel his skin against my body.
My chest heaves with exertion, as I try to get my lungs to relax for long enough to allow more oxygen into them.
However, it appears my stubbornness is ingrained much deeper than I thought possible.
“We’re here,” Storm murmurs, cutting the engine. “Let’s get inside before people think we’re kidnapping you, Marie.”
The very thought is vaguely amusing, and I can feel Wilder’s lips curve up slightly as he presses them against my temple.
He pushes open the back door, carrying me effortlessly as he steps out.
Storm comes around the vehicle and shuts the door behind us, and then they’re moving quickly inside the brownstone.
It still feels as cozy as ever inside, which makes me sob harder.
This is wrong. The world should be screaming and in pain right along with us, yet few people will know who Lore is because that’s how he wanted it.
“Why am I so sad?” I ask, starting to hyperventilate as I panic. “This is what it’s like to have Stockholm syndrome, isn’t it?”
“If it makes you feel better, sure,” Wilder says, walking up the stairs to the giant bed in what I think of as the pack bedroom. I haven’t slept inside it before, and the house is still in the beginning stages of becoming a home.
Laying me down on the mattress, he and Storm pull off my shoes and clothes, and then a large sweatshirt is thrown over my body. Ignoring them for a moment, I lift the material to my nose and scream.
Leather and raspberries will never smell the same to me again.
The sound is dark and guttural, and one I’ve never made before.
It speaks of the frustration I’ve never given life to, the lack of time I’ve had with these alphas because they left me behind the first time they met me, and the lost experiences I’ll never have with Lore.
Right now, it doesn’t matter how much I hated them for taking my choices away from me. The storm of emotions is tossing me around, and all I can do is curl into a ball, wrapped in Lore’s scent and cry.
“Fuck, I shouldn’t have said that,” Wilder mutters, pulling off his clothes and getting onto the bed to wrap me in his arms. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing without him.”
“Me either,” Storm admits, crawling in after him to push my legs away from my chest. “Let us hold you, Kitty. You’re not alone anymore. It may not be much, but we’re here. No more fighting. It’s not worth it.”
Once my leg is hooked over his naked hip, he cuddles up closer until my head is on his chest. I’m the omega between a sad alpha sandwich, and they purr as they hold me. If a tear drops onto my shoulder or my hair, none of us bring attention to it.
“It doesn’t feel like I’m allowed to miss him,” I finally say, tears and snot thick in my voice. “You’ve known him for so much longer than me, and we’ve fought more than anything else.”
“He left with promises and romance in his wake,” Wilder whispers, his cheek laying against my back.
I can feel him breathe Lore’s and my scents in, and I shudder at what could have been.
“Fighting is foreplay for him… was like foreplay. Anyway, he lived for games of dominance and submission. It took us longer than any of us care to admit, but women are different from men. We punch each other to show we love each other. We obviously can’t do the same with you.
When men like us love, it takes a very special kind of woman to show us how to treat them. ”
“Road life is hard,” Storm adds. “The women have been through some shit, the weather conditions are deplorable and disgusting, and life is uncertain. We’ve been talking about settling in one place, as you know. Lore wanted to take care of his loose ends before he could allow himself that luxury.”
“Criminal life,” I mutter bitterly. “This is exactly why I’ve been fighting this.”
“I know,” Storm sighs, his fingers pulling my hair tie out of my hair to thread his finger through it.
Wilder’s big hand squeezes my bare thigh where it’s hooked over Storm’s hip, and somehow it helps my very dysregulated body.
“It won’t always be safe,” Wilder rumbles in my ear, making me shiver. “Technically, I am now the interim president for our chapter. I don’t want to have this conversation with you while we’re all so raw. It feels wrong…”
“Life goes on,” I whimper. “I’m a nurse, I know this. Death happens, and the world continues to turn. I want the world to stop, the birds to stop chirping, and the sun to stop shining, because that means the universe will mourn with us. That’s not how it works though.”
“Fuck, you’re perfect,” Wilder sighs, relaxing completely against my back. It means his weight is heavy along the length of my body, and he shoves his leg on top of the leg not draped over Storm’ body.
In a way, this is a claiming, and a reminder we’re still pack, despite missing an important member of it.
I still need to figure out how I feel about all of this, but my soul is exhausted.
It’s as if I’ve been wrung dry after being fucked by the dildo of life without slick, and I still know it’ll continue to hurt as tears continue to drip from my swollen eyes.
“Lay it on me,” I say, though my lashes brush my cheeks.
“Marie—”
“Yes, I’m tired, I know. This isn’t the kind of exhaustion that’ll be fixed after a few hours of sleep though. Stop protecting me from your life. If I’m in it, then I need to know all the different aspects of it. I’m tired of being in the dark,” I snap.
“Whatever you want,” Storm says, reaching over and boxing Wilder’s ear.
“Fuck. Okay. This is weird. We don’t talk about things like this with people unless they’re patched in,” Wilder hisses.
“It’s the twenty-first century, I can vote, and I will not ask you for permission before I want to do something,” I reply. “Get with the present times.”
It’s true things are a little iffy for omegas with the auctions, but I’m not going to bring that up. I’m willing to win my argument and move on.
“Yes, ma’am,” Wilder says. He’s a gentleman and ignores my whimper of need, because I’m not in any kind emotional state of mind for sex.
This was just a biological response. “As the interim president, I need to make sure Lore’s brother is safe.
He’s been having some issues recently, and I want everyone to know he has the full support of our club chapter.
I also need to speak with Lyker, who is the president of the club who fucked us over. ”
“Just because you didn’t know about the betrayal doesn’t mean you’re absolved of the fallout,” Storm adds. “It’s a sign you can’t take care of your people. You’re responsible for the bullshit they get into, and it reflects back on you.”
I nod while smooshed between Storm and Wilder, equating this to a chain of command.
“So Lyker is in deep shit,” I say, yawning widely.
“You got that right,” Wilder growls. “We have some housekeeping to take care of, as you can see, only ours involves putting bullets in brains and punishing those who cross us.”
“As someone who isn’t typically violent, I want people to pay for Lore’s death,” I sigh. “I just don’t want this to turn into an all out war. How many people did you lose?”
“Ace and Lore. Two people too many,” Wilder grunts. “We killed everyone else in the garage. I doubt they knew much when Chester was clearly pulling the strings. Unfortunately, it leaves us with a lot of unanswered questions.”
My next yawn almost breaks my jaw and both Storm and Wilder growl with unhappiness.
“Alright, okay,” I groan. “Bedtime. That’s probably all I can process for now anyway.”
“I’ll be right back,” Storm says, leaning back slowly since he’s my pillow. Whining, I let him go, while Wilder adjusts so I can snuggle him instead.
My eyes close without my permission, and a moment later, I feel a warm towel moving over my face.
“Your lashes will stick if I don’t clean them off,” Storm explains as he wipes my face down. I have to admit it feels really nice and I sigh in relief.
Glancing up, I watch him do the same to Wilder and finally himself before he throws the towel in the direction of the hamper. I don’t check to see if it made it or not. I’ll excuse the laziness today, because it’s been a hell of a morning.
Laying back down, Storm rearranges my limbs until I’m back in the position I was in before, and I find my breathing leveling out quickly.
“Please stay,” Wilder whispers once he thinks I’m asleep.
“We need her,” Storm agrees. “Anything she needs, it’s hers.”
“No more power plays,” Wilder mutters. “Not with her. The club is a different beast.”
I let sleep drag me under the veil of sentience, wondering what that’ll mean.