Protecting Their Omega (Knot Her Pack #1)

Chapter 1

Harper

I tap my fingers on the steering wheel to the rhythm of the song playing on the radio, trying to ignore the voice in the back of my mind that says I really shouldn’t be ignoring the sounds coming from my ancient car.

Lettie, my crumbling sedan, has been with me for long enough that I like to think I know her well, and I can tell she’s struggling. But we’re close to the exit for the next town, Silver Falls, and I’m just hoping we can make it.

The radio DJ starts talking at the end of the song, saying something about switching to a smooth vibe for the afternoon commute, and at that moment, Lettie’s engine goes thunk.

I know enough to know engines shouldn’t go thunk.

“C’mon, baby,” I whisper, stroking the steering wheel like that’s gonna help. “C’mon, just five more miles. I know you can do this.”

Lettie can’t do this.

Steam starts pouring out from under the hood, and my heart rate kicks into overdrive.

I take my foot off the gas and focus on getting us out of the right lane, coasting over to the shoulder so we’re at least out of the way.

The car slows to a stop, and I throw on the parking brake, barely resisting the urge to lay my head down on the warm, peeling leather of the steering wheel and cry.

Panic claws at my throat, but I have to breathe past it. I can’t go to pieces here, even though it’s definitely a situation that warrants it.

But Cora, four years old and still silent, is sitting in the back seat.

I glance at her in the rearview mirror, and she looks back.

Her eyes don’t give away any sign of distress, but she clutches her ratty stuffed elephant tighter.

She’s had it forever at this point. Since before I became her guardian. Since before everything went to hell.

“We’re gonna be okay, baby,” I tell her, forcing a smile onto my face. I turn around in my seat and reach back to pat her knee. “I’m gonna figure something out.”

Cora doesn’t say anything, she never does, but at least she doesn’t look scared. Although I can’t decide if that’s a good thing or not. Wouldn’t most four-year-olds be afraid to be stranded on the side of the road in an unfamiliar place?

Either way, I’m freaking out enough for the both of us. I don’t have anyone to call, and with barely twenty dollars to my name, calling a tow truck doesn’t seem like an option. Even if it was, it’s not like we have anywhere to stay.

I’d budgeted enough for gas and some dinner, crunching the numbers on the last of the money I’ve got down to the penny.

I was planning on getting something small for myself, so I could treat Cora to an ice cream, something to say thank you for bearing with this long, dusty drive with grace beyond her years.

Lettie breaking down was not a part of the plan. But then again, nothing ever goes to plan when you’re running away from your past with a traumatized kid in tow, so I don’t even know why I bother.

Maybe to have some control over the situation. Maybe to at least pretend like I do.

One thing about the winding road that leads to Silver Falls that I figure out quick is that it’s not heavily traveled.

We sit on the side of the road for ten minutes without seeing another car.

Must be a small town in these mountains, but that means it’s going to be harder to get out of this situation.

“I’ll be right back, okay?” I tell Cora. “I’m gonna see if I can… figure out what’s wrong with Lettie.”

Cora just dips her head in a nod, and I climb out of the car and drag in a deep breath.

The air is thick with dust from the road and it smells like hot asphalt and whatever is in the steam still leaking out from under the hood.

I had entertained some idea of popping the hood to see if I could make a guess at what’s going on, but I can feel the heat radiating off of it when I get close, and I move away, not wanting to add steam burns to my list of issues for today.

The only plus side is that it’s early enough in the day that there are still plenty of hours of daylight left to come up with a solution. If it was dark out, this would be even worse.

Just as I’m debating the merits of walking versus calling for a tow truck and worrying about the bill later, a pickup truck comes rumbling up the road toward us.

I catch a glimpse of a man with a blue baseball cap pulled low on his forehead as he slows down to look at the car and then pulls over to the shoulder behind us.

Fuck.

He could be a local, trying to be helpful, giving off that small town hospitality. Or he could be a problem, trying to take advantage of people in desperate situations with not many other choices.

He gets out of his truck and slams the cab closed before crunching up the gravel over to me. I keep my head down, but take in as much of him as I can.

Nothing really stands out. He could be anyone from this small town, with his suntanned skin and ball cap. Peeks of dirty blond hair wisp around his forehead under the brim of the hat, and he shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he comes over.

“Hey there,” he says, flashing a smile at me that immediately makes my skin crawl. “Everything all right?”

“Yup,” I say, trying to sound breezy and in control. “Just a bit of car trouble.”

He eyes the steam still coming out of the car and then looks back to me. “You sure it’s just a bit?”

“Just overheated,” I tell him. “I’m giving it a minute, and then we should be back on the road.”

I move away from the hood, making like I’m going to get back in the car, but Mr. Pickup Truck moves too, coming to stand close to me. Too close. Close enough that I can smell his sweat under his aftershave.

“You headed into Silver Falls?” he asks. “Or past it? I can tell you there’s not much past it for a stretch.”

“That’s okay.”

“Yeah?” He looks me up and down, and I swallow hard, wishing I was wearing more than cut off jean shorts and a t-shirt.

His eyes linger on my legs, on the curves of my waist, on the fullness of my chest. I usually cover up more, but it’s a hot day, and I’d planned to be in the car for most of it. “You got someone waiting for you?”

“Yes,” I say firmly, trying to edge my way back to the car. This fucker is between me and my niece, and I don’t want her to see this. “And if I’m gone too long, he’ll come looking for me anyway. So I’m fine.”

“You want someone to wait with you?”

I shake my head. “No, thank you.”

He leans in, inhaling a bit like he’s trying to get a whiff of me—not subtle. “You shouldn’t turn me down,” he says, his voice pitching lower. “It’s not right for pretty little Omegas like you to be alone on these mountain roads.”

My stomach drops when he says that. There’s no mistaking the predatory look in his eyes or the intention behind his words.

My heart starts hammering in my chest. I’m not small or helpless, but Mr. Pickup Truck has a lot of muscle on me.

If Lettie was running, I’d knee him in the junk and be on my way, but like this, there’s nowhere to go.

Even if I snatched Cora out of the car and ran with her, he could run us down in his truck and—

I swallow back bile, trying not to catastrophize.

“Tell you what,” the guy murmurs, moving in even closer to me. “Why don’t we wait for your car to calm down back at my place? I’ll take care of you, and your man never has to know.”

Panic roars through me, my heartbeat loud in my ears. I lean away from him as much as I can without moving away from the car. “That’s really okay,” I say, hoping I don’t sound as shaky as I feel. “I appreciate it, but—”

Another truck coasts up beside us as I’m speaking, moving around to get in front of my car. Being pinned in like this makes me feel nauseous, but it’s not like I was going anywhere in the car anyway.

The door opens, and a man steps down out of the cab, looking like something out of a damned romance novel.

He’s gorgeous, I can admit that much. Tall, and lean, but with the kind of muscles that you get from hard work.

His short sleeved shirt shows off his toned arms, and his dark wash jeans follow the lines of his long legs.

He’s got a brown leather cowboy hat on, but he takes it off when he approaches, shaking rich brown and golden hair back from his face.

He walks with confidence, clearly an Alpha, and even though he has an easy smile on his face, I can sense the danger that lurks under his skin. Dangerous but controlled.

Fuck, this is bad.

If the two of them know each other…

If they’re both trying to take advantage of me…

I need a plan. I need—

Tall, bright, and handsome moves over to me, sliding an arm around my waist with casual possessiveness. He’s warm and solid, and it’s completely unexpected. I jump a little at the contact, but then he smiles at me, and I freeze.

“Sorry I’m late, darlin’,” he says with just enough of that small town country twang to be endearing. His honey colored eyes stay locked on Mr. Pickup Truck, and there’s an unmistakable warning there. “Who’s this?”

He sounds like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth, but there’s steel underneath, the proof that he’s not fucking around. I’m shocked—both from his sudden appearance and the way he’s stepping in to help—but all I can really do is play along.

“He pulled over to see if he could help,” I tell him. “I was telling him that I’m fine.”

“That so?” He smiles, but there’s no warmth in it. “Well, any help she needs is taken care of, so you can go on your way now.”

Mr. Pickup Truck doesn’t even argue. He immediately backs down, clearly recognizing an Alpha when he sees one.

Smart move.

“Have a good day,” he says and walks quickly back to his truck, getting in and driving on down the road.