Chapter Seven ABBIE #2
Patch nods, although there’s a hint of sadness in his scent. “Well, the important people are still the same. In fact, how about we stop by the kitchen so you can say hello to Glory?”
My heart squeezes at the thought of seeing his old lady and my mom’s best friend. “I’d like that, but then I need to check on my bike. Pitt said it was towed here for repairs.”
“Pitt’s a good man,” he says with approval ringing in his voice. “I’m glad you’ve been spending some time getting to know him.”
I pause and plant my hands on my hips. “Is there anything you don’t know about my life?”
“Plenty,” he replies with a hint of a growl. “But we’re gonna fix that, aren’t we? Because you know Glory hates being left in the dark about the people she loves.”
I shrug, but there’s no denying his old lady was always the club’s convergence point when it came to gossip.
Nothing happened within the compound walls that she wasn’t aware of, and as kids, we used to plan our days according to Glory’s moods.
If she was tense and short with us, we’d make ourselves scarce, but if she was smiling and relaxed, we knew we were mostly safe from whatever was going on between the adults in the club.
Which is one of the reasons it’s so good to see her chatting away happily as we step into the kitchen.
My muscles instinctively loosen, and I smile as I watch her swat another woman I vaguely recognize with the end of her dishcloth.
They’re making cinnamon rolls, a third, younger woman pulling a tray out of the oven and filling the air with their sweet scent.
Glory always makes some of them as per her nonna’s recipe, with a lighter glaze and citrus zest filling, and my mouth waters in remembered appreciation.
But I’m distracted by the shriek she emits as she catches sight of us in the doorway.
“Mio Dio! Baby Bee!” She hurtles towards us, her curly black hair bouncing on her shoulders as she swoops me into a hug.
I’m instantly engulfed by her familiar cherry and musk scent.
She’s such a motherly figure around the club, it’s sometimes surprising to remember that she’s an alpha and not an omega, but there’s a lot of strength in the arms she wraps around me.
“It’s been too, too long, my lovely girl.
Are you well? You look thin. Have you been eating properly, or living on ramen like those young people I see on TV? ”
“I cook,” I tell her with a laugh. “Not like you, but I keep the ramen for special occasions.”
She makes a huffing sound, but I can sense her scent sharpening as the two other women come over to join us.
“You know Kass, Zink’s old lady, but you haven’t met Lyla.
” I blink at the awe and devotion in her voice as she wraps an arm around the younger woman who nestles in under her arm.
She’s tiny, even for an omega, and looks as delicate as a rose with her milky skin and fragile build, but her eyes are glowing with happiness.
It’s only then that I notice the fresh bonding mark on her throat.
“She’s ours,” Glory says proudly. “We were bonded last Spring.”
“Nice to meet you, Lyla,” I tell her, carefully shaking her small hand. She smiles at me shyly, murmuring something so softly that I have to tip my head forward to hear her reply in kind. “How are you liking the Flyers?”
“It’s been great,” she murmurs, squeezing in close to Glory. “Everyone is so kind.”
I nod, even though the thought of this gentle creature in the company of some of the club’s rougher elements makes my stomach churn. What was Patch thinking? Not everyone is cut out for club life, and this omega looks like a stiff wind would blow her right over the compound gates.
“She’s our perfect girl,” Patch says gruffly, and the omega flushes so prettily, I cock a brow at him over their heads.
I guess that explains why he looks like he’s found a new lease on life, but it still doesn’t sit well with me.
“Lyla, why don’t you serve me one of those delicious rolls while Glory and Abbie catch up? ”
I blink at the hint of alpha authority in his voice, but the omega almost skips back towards the oven, her scent as sweet as buttercream.
When we’re alone, I look at Glory with a hundred questions painted across my face.
“Come look at our herb garden,” she says, steering me towards the back door.
I go willingly enough, but I can’t resist casting a glance over my shoulder at the other omega.
“I know,” she murmurs as we step outside, “it’s strange for you, seeing us like this.
But we didn’t have any choice.” She looks sadly at the carpet of greenery at our feet which is overflowing with herbs and berries.
“She was badly abused when she arrived, and she latched onto Patch before she was even fully aware of her surroundings. Turns out she’s his scent match, and even as sick and hurt as she was, she recognized him. ”
“Wow.” Scent matches are rare, and in a clubhouse of around fifty adults, it’s unlikely there’s another pair of mates who bonded the same way.
It’s also a deep, instinctive connection; a holdover from the days when biological compatibility meant the survival of our species.
“And you’re okay with this?” Her head whips up and I hold my hands out placatingly.
“It’s just that it’s been you and Patch for so long… ”
“It’s a miracle,” she says in a reverent whisper. “If Ark didn’t set up that omega refuge pipeline, we might have never found her.”
“Refuge pipeline?” It’s the first I’ve heard of it, and I shake my head in confusion. The club had their charities, but it was usually a front for the shady stuff that was happening in the background. “What’s that about?”
“I’ll let him explain, but suffice to say, he’s spent most of the last five years trying to undo Booker’s poison.”
I raise my brows at that, and she must sense my skepticism, because tears gleam in her eyes as she squeezes my arm.
“You must know we went looking for you, honey.
Not at first, because... well, that's a long story, but Patch and Ark did try to find you after you left the boardinghouse.
The people running it said you'd met a pack and gone west, but we couldn't find any record of the bonding. It was a couple of years before you popped back up, and Ark sent Wings to check on you.”
There are so many things wrong about this version of the last five years of my life, but I jerk at the last part. “Ark what?”
“He had a bunch of us on the lookout for you,” she goes on, clearly unaware of my churning emotions. “He never believed the pack story, but the old boardinghouse had burned down in a fire and all their records along with it.”
I have to take a gulp of air before I can find my voice.
“I know. It wasn’t a great place to be, so after the fire, I just..
. went underground for a while.” She’s watching me with so much concern shining in her eyes, I swallow hard, trying to hide my rising distress.
“I got some training at an omega healing center and eventually earned my therapist degree through them. But Wings and I bumped into each other at random...” She makes a soft sound and I shake my head, feeling my cheeks burn. “Not random. Ark really sent him?”
“Like I said, we were all on the lookout.” She lets that sink in for a moment, then gives my arm another squeeze. “We’re just so glad you’re back, honey. I know your poor mama is breathing a huge sigh of relief, God rest her soul.”
I have to fight back a wave of sorrow. The last happy memory I have of my mom was the two of them dancing in front of a bonfire, their arms wrapped so tight you couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.
“Thanks, Glory,” I manage to mumble, but I'm interrupted by the sound of a brittle laugh.
“Well, look what the stray cat dragged in.”
I turn to face the sneering omega, who’s clad head-to-toe in tight leather, one hand propped on a curvy hip.
I’d break an ankle in her four-inch heels, but Mimi looks as confident as ever.
As much as she’s always turned my stomach, she’s a stunning woman, her brilliant red hair cascading down her back like she just stepped out of a salon.
“I heard you were back, but I hoped it was just a nasty rumor.”
“Don’t start, Mimi,” Glory growls, her hand tightening on my arm. “If you can’t say anything nice…”
“Stuff my mouth with an alpha cock? Sorry, Glory, but I think you’re lacking in that department.
” She smirks at her crude joke, while Glory makes a disgusted sound.
“I do have a question, though.” She shakes back her hair and gives me a scathing glance.
“Hasn’t the club already exceeded its quota for broken-ass omegas? ”
“Mamma mia, Mimi! Do you have to be so unpleasant?”
I can feel Glory’s anger like a thunderstorm on the horizon, and the kid in me wants to scuttle for cover, but the smug look on the other omega’s face reminds me that those days are long past. Mimi might have intimidated me when I was seventeen, but like I keep telling everyone, I’m not that helpless kid anymore.
“Ah, you can’t blame her, Glory,” I reply with false sympathy.
“If I had to take Jackpot's slimy knot on the regular, I’d be a sour-faced bitch, too.”
Glory hiccups a startled laugh, but Mimi lunges towards me, hands curled into claws like she plans to rip my hair out by the root.
I block her easily, thrusting her back so she teeters on her heels and almost drops on her ass.
The rage in her face makes me grin, especially when she starts to back up. “You’ll fucking keep,” she mutters.
“Sure!” I call to her retreating back. “Any time you want your skinny ass handed to you, Omega, come look me up.”