Rest In Knotty Pieces (RIP Alpha #2)

1. Pix

Pix

Ishould have taken off my suppressant patch days ago, so I could have seduced him properly, in stages, with success.

I knew I was playing a dangerous game, but who knew this alpha would continue to thwart me.

Of all the alphas in all the world, this scent match of mine is one of the few who can resist my pheromones, and the car is flooded with my scent and his.

Both are trying to smother the other as we speed to wherever we’re going in a battle driven by will.

It’s not the destination, it’s the journey, and by the end, I plan on being the winner.

Except…he’s the most stubborn alpha I have ever met. I’m not entirely confident anymore that I can win.

It’s not fair.

“You know, if you wanted to put me in cuffs, all you needed to do was say so, you didn’t need to throw me to the ground.” I tilt my head to the side, knowing I look hot as fuck. “Though I wouldn’t have minded that either, but sans the audience.”

Detective Aaron Roseland doesn’t respond.

He hasn’t been responding to me for over an hour.

I just get to sit in the back of his car, handcuffed and helpless, while he drives me to who the hell knows where.

All the while flicking that incredibly hot gaze at me from the rearview mirror.

Grey-blue eyes have become my favourite.

In fact, they are all I can see, waking, sleeping; my obsession is deadly.

I am getting dangerously annoyed with him, but he looks like he’s about to explode. So, I think I might be winning.

“I am all for a round of slap and tickle, if you want to pull over, uncuff me, or, you know, we could keep the cuffs.”

Nothing. A muscle in my cheek twitches.

“Just how dark does your desire go, Roseland? Whips, chains, and hand necklaces?”

As much as I might wish he was taking me somewhere to bang, I know this asshole better. He will disappoint me again and probably is taking me somewhere he can lock me up and slap me with some bullshit charges. Detective Aaron Roseland, despite how attractive he is, is a stickler for the law.

I can see my charges now.

Disturbing his penile peace.

Criminal trespass in his ass.

Talking smack to his crack.

Something like that.

I humph and sit back, irritated all over again.

It has been a year since I met this son of a bitch.

A year of stalking him, committing misdemeanors to get his attention, lovingly watching him sleep on all the cameras I inserted into his home.

My flirt has gotten me nowhere, my banter is ignored, we even shared one magical night together where he fucked me good and hard and knotted me.

I thought that was our turning point, but no, Detective Aaron Roseland had the uppity to get outraged that I drugged him.

I’m not good enough for this alpha with his bragging of having an omega at home already that he is devoted to so strongly that he won’t even look at me. Why is my life so fucked?

Though I have yet to find any trace of an omega anywhere. She or he is a ghost.

Too bad that I am his omega. A scent matched omega like me should never want. Worse that him being an alpha and my scent match is the fact that he’s a cop. It’s hilarious that life wants to kick me this hard while I’m down.

What is a poor little serial killer like me to do? Who did I piss off in a past life?

I pick the lock on the handcuffs and dump them on the floor, then shift until I’m comfortable on the backseat.

The radio is playing and cuts in for a news break. It must be around five. It should be getting dark soon. We should be much further away than where we are. Is Roseland driving in a loop?

The news lady chatters about a car crash and another body being killed by the serial killer dubbed by the press as Father.

Stupid name if you ask me, but what do I know.

He’s been around for years, though, and is still going strong.

She finishes with the weather. It’s going to be a good day tomorrow. Sunshine and hearts. Woo-fucking-hoo.

I wonder if I will be in a cell. One can hope I’ll be in a certain alpha’s bed, but I think wishes are probably free.

“One, two, three, oh, fuck yeah, looking at another tree,” I sing random words as loud as I can, knowing it will annoy him half to death.

My phone rings, and I take it out and answer it.

“Hey, babes,” Bonnie says. She’s one of my best friends and is living her best life with her alphas. Not that I’m jealous. I’m not. Okay, I kinda am, but her alphas are wonderful. They are killers, just like us. Not some stupid stomp-on-my-feelings cop who has zero ability to chill.

“Hey, Pix. Where are you? We had dinner plans.”

“Ah, Rosewood picked me up again. Though he didn’t read me my rights this time, just threw me in the back of his squad car and kidnapped me. It would be hot, but I think his cock fell off the last time he tried to dislodge the stick from his ass. So, more annoying and inconvenient.”

“Get off the fucking phone, Daega.”

I shudder, seriously annoyed with him. “Did you just first-name me? While I was on the phone to my bestie? Fucking rude, Roseland.”

“End that call right now!” Roseland growls, alpha dominance dripping from every syllable. It really is a shame he is so hot.

“I have to go, Detective Buzzkill is shouting at me.” I roll my eyes and lean my forehead against the window.

“Okay, I think maybe, Pix, that you might want to let this one go.”

Her words hurt. I’ve heard them before, a thousand times. And I’ve said them to myself even more.

But still, my poor little wasted self can’t quite walk away.

But today is a new low.

“Where are you taking me, Roseland?” I say when my call ends. There’s no flirt, no game, just exhausted hurt.

“You have warrants,” he mutters, but I notice he keeps checking his mirrors. Is he expecting someone to appear, or does he think we’re being followed?

“I absolutely do not!” I say in outrage.

“You do-”

“Do not!” I shout, leaning forward so I can see him.

Roseland is so freaking hot. He’s got this rugged, mountain-man vibe happening with stubble and shaggy brown hair that is streaked with caramel. He’s a stark contrast to my shoulder-length black hair and tattoo-covered body.

“Rose, watch out!” I shout, slamming my hands against the cage as if I can get through to protect him.

He’s got amazing reflexes, but even he can’t miss the woman that streaks into the middle of the road. She just comes out of nowhere. He only just clips her and sends her tumbling.

The car spins out of control, and we hit a tree hard. For a second, I just sit there, stunned, but I looked up and search for Roseland, panic wrapping a vice around my chest. Please, oh, please, be okay.

Roseland groans and shakes his head. Oh, God, he’s okay. I grab the cage, moving closer, looking over him as best I can.

“Detective, I do believe you just murdered someone.”

“Shut up!”

Good, be angry. Being angry means you’re okay. Be all the angry.

“Welcome to the dark side!” I chortle, teasing him because I need to hear him speak.

“Shut the fuck up, Pix.”

“Your perfect halo has fallen. However will you look at yourself in the mirror?” I exclaim. “Maybe we can share a cell.”

He whirls on me, his eyes furious. I think I’m supposed to be scared, I’m just so fucking relieved.

“Stay in the car.”

Not likely.

As soon as he’s out, I turn a section of one of my rings, revealing a hard spike, then I punch the window.

It shatters, and I wiggle through the small space, landing in an easy crouch on the forest floor.

I wander over to Roseland and stand behind him.

I’m about an inch shorter than him, but I look more muscular.

Mainly because I walk around in fuck all clothes, and I’ve never seen him bare skin, except for that one perfect night.

Right now, he’s a mess, all mussed, and his scent is strained and stressed. I can smell blood, but it’s faint, and I see just a tiny trickle on the side of his head. But he’s okay.

That was too close.

A groan catches my attention, drags it to the person who almost killed my alpha. I should kill her with my bare hands. My fingers curl as I move with Roseland.

He approaches and stops with a jerk, crouching near the crumpled form. He inhales, and his body trembles. His breath hitches, and he lets out this groan that is like soul pain. I reach for him.

“No, oh, no. What are you doing out here?”

I glance at him sharply and withdraw my hand. This is more than strangers. His scent comes thick, heavy, needy. He smells and sounds devastated.

He reaches out, but she suddenly comes to life, scrambling away from him. I let out a bitter laugh because life just wants to boot me again and again. The omega, because she is clearly an omega, looks straight up at me.

I’m struck by curiosity; I don’t feel a connection with her, I don’t feel sorry for her. There’s nothing but one question. Why me? Why is she looking at me to save her?

What the fuck is this?

She tries to get up, but she just groans and falls sideways. I manage to catch her and lift her easily into my arms. She doesn’t weigh anything. Too thin. Like the kids on the street where I used to live. All bones and skin. Starving to death, fighting to live.

That alone is why I don’t throw her away from me.

I stare down at her. She’s nothing much. Tangled hair that looks like it could be brown or even black, but with orange tips. She’s too small. Delicate. Broken. There are bruises peeking out from under her clothes.

Roseland makes a strangled sound and reaches out but stops when I glare at him.

“Find us shelter, Roseland,” I say in my coldest voice. This game has lost its charm. I’m not amused. At all.

Yeah, okay. It’s time to give this asshole up. Tomorrow, I’ll quit him cold turkey.

Roseland pulls out his phone and makes a call. I hold her close to me and refuse to speak. He doesn’t even try to talk to me, I think I can smell shame, but it curls around us and is snatched by the wind.

Birds scream and a million trees surround us.

We could disappear out here and never be found.

The Sandersons, who raised me, would love it out here.

Plenty of room to play. I wonder how close we are to their playground.

Close, I think, but I need a better marker to know for certain.

There are so many trees in every direction.

Ten minutes later, an expensive car pulls up, and an alpha gets out. I don’t notice anything else about him but the aura of complete menace and the thick, oozing sex appeal that I’m not sure he even notices.

“Sage?” Roseland growls out with barely contained hostility that positively prickles off him. “I need your help.”

“I am agog that you have yet another person you can’t get along with, Roseland,” I mutter.

I cradle the omega to my chest and step closer, only to stop when I get hit with this alpha’s scent. Sage and nutmeg presses against Rose’s sandalwood and rose scent, and the two blend into a combination of pure perfect that brings me to only one damn conclusion.

Another scent match. Boy, oh, boy, is it my lucky day or what?

I slide past him and put the omega on the backseat before turning, framing myself in front of the open door so they can’t get to her.

Why am I so protective of this tiny thing?

His eyes lock on mine, and for the first time in my life, I feel hunted. And damned if it doesn’t have my cock twitching and the odious urge to lift my damn chin and whine in pure invitation. He catches my scent, and his eyes glaze over, and I think I have him, but then he shakes it off.

He shakes off my scent as easily as Roseland does. Who the hell is this alpha?

“Who are you?” It should be rude, aggressive; if anyone else had said it, it might be. But from this alpha, it’s just pure curiosity and demand.

I inhale slowly, deliberately letting my chest fill as I drop my eyes down his body.

He’s big, and strong, perhaps the most dangerous alpha I have ever met.

It oozes from his strange silver-white dyed hair, to his intense green eyes, every inch of him screams alpha, power and interest. He’s wearing a leather jacket that looks like it could be armor, and I can see a hint of a tattoo poking out from under his collar.

He wears danger like it’s a second skin.

In comparison, Roseland doesn’t look dangerous, he’s in a black shirt and jeans and somehow his dangerous aura is hidden.

But I’ve seen what lurks beneath his charm.

“Pix,” I say arrogantly, tossing a sunny smile that I know will get under his skin.

I stretch my arms above my head, watching in delight as the alpha’s eyes drop down to where my T-shirt rises, showing off a whole heap of my tattooed skin. I will use my body to get what I want, if I have to.

“Daega, get your ass in the car before I knock you on it.”

I switch my glare to the alpha who arrested me and raise a brow. “Don’t tease me with a good time, Rosey.”

He growls.

I bite my bottom lip and raise an eyebrow. “Anytime, you just say the word, and I’ll get naked.” I hesitate a long moment and, with a smile of pure spite, add, “Again.”

The veins in the side of his temple throb, and I wonder if they are going to pop. He takes three steps towards me and grabs me by the throat, his fingers cutting off my blood supply and sending it straight to my cock.

The omega in me whines.

And though I see interest flare in his eyes, he muzzles it down and shoves me towards the door.

“Get in the car, Daega.” His voice is low and deep, threatening, not at all like Detective Roseland; no, this is all Aaron.

“My name,” I say softly, dropping my gaze deliberately to his very sensual lips. “Is Pix.”

His fingers squeeze tighter, like he’s flexing, like he hates that he wants me so bad, and then he lets go and gets in the passenger seat.

I slide into the back, pulling the unconscious female into my lap, and ignore the two alphas in the front. Neither of them says a word, but I think things are about to get really interesting.

Behind us, the car explodes into flames. I wonder which one of them did it then decide I don’t care.

I have more important questions, like who is that alpha that smells like mine, and who is this omega who made my detective look like he was about to cry.