Chapter 13 Lyon
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
lyon
When August came downstairs last night as we were eating dinner, it was impossible to miss the swollen lips, smug grin, or the scratch marks running down his back.
Memphis and Ridge shared mutual groans, but I just stared with longing and more than a little worry.
We sat in silence the entire time as Auggie made two plates, grabbed bottles of water, and put them all on a tray.
Just before he walked out the door, he glanced over his shoulder with a smirk.
“You snooze, you lose.”
Then he was gone.
It didn’t take much imagination to know what the two of them were up to. It also doesn’t help that Shay’s not exactly the quiet sort—though none of us will complain about that. It’s left me with a certain sense of despair, worrying about what will happen if she wants the others and not me.
The guys have never suffered for female attention. They’re good men with the looks and personalities that seem to attract them in droves.
Then there’s me.
The outcast.
The intimidating giant.
The mute.
People around here just don’t know what to make of me.
The abandoned Beta who was taken in by a local family when the people who were supposed to love him just up and left him behind.
I was three, and it was almost four days before Ridge’s family came to the house for a welfare check.
One of his dads was one of my dad’s bosses, and when he didn’t show up for work three days in a row, he got concerned.
Rather than finding his employee, he found the starving, dehydrated little boy the pack didn’t deem worthy of taking with them.
The Taylors took me in and showed me what a pack is supposed to be.
Without them, I’m not sure what would’ve happened to me, and I owe them more than I can ever repay.
Their generosity didn’t stop the town from whispering behind my back, of course.
I’ve been called everything from interesting, to weird, to creepy.
When I was a kid, it bothered me, but the Taylors worked hard to prove they were wrong.
At this point, I’m used to the strange looks.
Hell, I even play into it—silence creeps people out.
And sure, I don’t talk a whole lot—or at all—around people I’m not comfortable with, but words are precious.
Most people don’t deserve the attention they offer.
Now that I’m older, most of the townsfolk have grown used to me, and I’ve even earned grudging respect.
But when it comes to women, let’s say that’s still a huge untested rite of passage.
Most women look at me and cringe. Can’t say I blame them.
They’re confused by me. Their instincts don’t know how to interpret the signals I give off, and they’re usually disappointed when I can’t provide the things an alpha can, which is what they assume I should be.
For a Beta, I’m built like a bull. My size alone is enough to intimidate grown men.
The few women who have been brave enough to attempt conversation usually give up when it becomes readily apparent they won’t be the one to fix me.
As far as I’m concerned, I don’t need to be fixed.
I just need the right woman who understands me enough that it doesn’t bother her.
When I think about Shay, some secret part of me is praying she’s that girl.
She doesn’t seem to be afraid of anything and never looks down on anyone who doesn’t deserve it.
Maybe she’ll be able to look past the gruff exterior to see the man within.
I’m staring out the front window, deep in thought, when FedEx pulls up.
I could walk out to grab whatever it is, but that would require an awkward interaction I’d rather avoid, so I wait until the truck backs down the drive again.
Once I’m sure they’re gone, I grab the package that was just dropped off.
The label is addressed to an Eden Foxx ℅ Pack Young.
My brow furrows.
Who in the hell is Eden Foxx?
“What’s that? Memphis asks, walking into the room.
I shrug before offering him the package. He stares at the label for a minute, then grabs his pocket knife out his pants.
“It says Pack Young,” he reasons, cutting open the tape. “Can’t figure out who it belongs to without seeing what’s inside.”
He lifts the lid and a piece of brown kraft paper. When he just stares at the contents, my curiosity gets the better of me. Stepping up beside him, I peer down and my eyes go wide.
There’s a bottle of flavored lube, a blindfold, and an interesting crocheted trio. Interesting, because the female is blindfolded and being spitroasted by two men, one with his dick bulging her throat and the other impaling her ass.
“Did one of you order from some kinky sex toy site?” Memphis asks out loud.
I shake my head as August walks into the room.
“What the hell are you two gawking at?”
“You order some kinky sex shit?”
August abruptly goes still, his face paling. “Where the hell did you get that?”
“Porch,” I murmur with a tilt of my head.
Dude’s acting awfully sketchy. A rush of panic floods the bond.
Memphis grabs the bottle of lube, tears off the packaging, and flicks the cap. Squirting a little of it onto his pointer finger, he licks it off and loudly smacks his lips. “Strawberry. I kinda dig it.”
That breaks Auggie out of his trance. “What the fuck is wrong with you? That shit could be poisoned!”
“Well, if I collapse and start foaming at the mouth, at least you know the culprit. I went out taste testing flavored lube.”
I snort, but August loses his shit.
“Give me that,” he barks, throwing the lube into the box and shutting the lid to look at the label. Then he opens it again, gingerly lifting up the miniature people using just his thumb and first finger. “Jesus Christ.”
“What are we all staring at?” Ridge asks, stepping up beside me.
“Got an interesting package today,” Memphis hedges.
Ridge peers over to where Auggie is standing, still holding the crocheted gift in the air.
“What the fuck is that?” He reaches over to touch it, but Auggie drops it back into the box and slams the lid shut.
“Look, there’s something I need to te—”
Footsteps on the stairs have August's eyes flaring with panic. He rushes over to the coffee table and shoves the box in the deep drawer before kicking it closed. The Alpha is usually laid back and confident, so seeing him this flustered sends all the warning bells ringing.
Shay walks into the room in her signature tank, jeans, boots, and ball cap with her long black ponytail hanging through the hole. She’s not wearing any makeup, and this close I can make out the freckles scattered across her face. She’s fucking gorgeous.
“You guys ready to go meet the contractor?”
Sharing a look with Ridge, I can feel the tension in the air. August is hiding something. The fact that he didn’t want Shay to see whatever the hell was in that box tells me whatever it is, it can’t be good.
“Yup. We’re good to go.”
“Should I grab my stuff just in case he gives me the all-clear to stay there?”
Ridge runs a hand down his neck. “Sweetheart, there’s no way you can spend a single night in that house until a full clean-up crew comes out to inspect for mold and does some restoration work. It’s bad.”
“But what am I supposed to do? It’s my home.”
The four of us share a look, and a rush of eagerness flows through the pack bond.
“Stay here,” Memphis suggests almost shyly. “It’s no trouble at all, and I’m pretty sure all of us would feel a helluva lot better having you here with us than alone in that death trap.”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “My house is not a death trap.”
“It is if it has two holes in the roof, standing water, and mold potentially growing in the damp walls,” August growls.
We all wait for her to snap back, but to our surprise, she simply sighs.
“I hate it when you’re right. I can’t fight facts, but I also can’t just stay here forever.”
You could if you were ours.
I don’t dare say it out loud though. Speaking that sort of hope into reality is a surefire way to kill it before it can even begin.
“C’mon. Let’s just see what the contractor has to say first. We don’t want to be late.” Ridge grabs her elbow, sliding his hand down her forearm until he laces their fingers together.
For a brief second, she looks up at him in shock, then simply follows along beside him.
The second they’re out the door, I turn my most penetrating stare on August. “We need to talk about that.”
He nods, running both hands down his face. “She works this afternoon. When you guys get back here, I’ll explain it all.”
“Should we be worried?" Memphis asks.
“I don’t think so, but I’ve got some calls to make. I’ll have a better answer for you later.”
Without responding, I head for the door and get into the passenger side of Ridge’s truck. In seconds, we’re barreling down the road toward Shay’s cabin.
“I forgot to thank you for your thoughtfulness yesterday, Lyon,” the Omega in question murmurs.
When I glance over my shoulder, she’s already leaning forward a bit, which puts our faces close together.
My eyes dip to her plump lips. If only I could close the gap between us to discover what they would feel like pressed against mine.
Of course, my serious lack of hands-on experience makes a flare of insecurity rush over me.
“Welcome.”
If she’s put off by my simplistic answer, she doesn’t show it. Instead a slight shiver wracks her delectable body, her pupils dilating a tiny bit.
Wait. She’s reacting like that to me?
“It’s been a helluva couple days. Let’s just hope this first company has some good news for me.”
I turn to Ridge in time to catch the grimace that flashes across his face.
It stopped raining at some point in the middle of the night, and the sun is shining brightly like the storms never happened. Unfortunately, Ridge and I got a better glimpse at the damage to her place yesterday, and I wish there was a way to prepare her for what I know is coming.