Chapter 42
Chapter Forty-Two
TALLY
T he shower we share is too small, but my care factor is literally zero. Honestly, I need to get away from Rafferty and Tynan. They’re dangerous to my independence.
“I’m going,” I insist as I sink to my knees.
The two of them laugh because I’ve said it a few times over the last couple of hours, but this time, I mean it.
Rafferty’s heat is starting to climb. It makes him more demanding. The way he’s getting reminds me more of an Alpha.
“Bossy Omega,” I scold, but he stops me talking, making me lick him instead.
And while he might be getting pushier, his sweetness still shines bright, and he reaches over to his brother, drawing him close, so he gets the same attention.
Rafferty’s hips pump in a slow, sensual rhythm as his hand drops into my hair so he can push further inside my mouth. “Jesus, you give good head. Suck harder, pretty wife.”
All of him is bathed in his unique herbal, earthy, spicy sage scent. It makes my head so floaty whenever I breathe him in or lick him. He’s highly addictive. I’m starting to understand viscerally why some Alphas are psychotically obsessed with their Omegas.
As he drags himself out of my mouth, he does it slowly before thrusting forward again until I’m gagging around him.
He whimpers at the sensation, and as he pulls back again, the flavor he leaves over my tongue speaks to how much he enjoys it.
But Rafferty is a sharer, and he wraps his hand around both his and his brother's dick.
My mouth is open as wide as I can make it before they look down at me, and the three of us burst out laughing.
I have to sit back and catch my breath when my giggles grow, but being with the twins makes me feel happy and carefree. Closing my eyes, I take a few deep breaths, determined to fit both their gorgeous cocks in my mouth.
It’s slow going as we try to make it work. It’s not especially comfortable and probably not something I’d do all the time, but for the short amount of time I get to taste them together, and lick them as one, it’s worth the discomfort.
Shifting my focus, I take turns going down on them until Tynan’s orgasm fills my mouth and Rafferty blows on my face at the same time.
A rumbling growl like thunder from a sudden summer storm fills the bathroom, and the three of us turn slowly to the noise. Both Ronin and Keegan are watching with an interest that floods the bathroom with their scents, which is my cue it’s time to go.
Standing up and putting my back to the two rumbling Alphas, I use my butt to push Rafferty in their direction as I turn the water cold to douse the inferno happening inside my soul. Tynan stays close, as if he can take some of the frigidity, but I whisper only for him to hear.
“Time’s up, Ty. I promise I’ll be here when Raff’s heat is done.”
He flicks the shower off and bundles me in a towel, rushing us past the growly Alphas who have nothing but wicked intentions in their eyes.
“You do not leave without saying goodbye, wife,” Ronin barks, and my feet falter, but Tynan keeps me moving.
His throwback over his shoulder brooks no room for argument. “She’ll be back in a few minutes, Ronin.”
I have to close my eyes and breathe through the moment.
I knew I was playing with fire, and when it was happening, I had no care in the world.
Which should have been a red flag, but apparently, my Omega has commandeered more control than I realized.
I stand by my earlier realization at how dangerous Tynan and Rafferty are for me.
With me cuddled under his arm, Tynan detours us into the kitchen and all but throws the cookies into the still-warm oven. As soon as the glass door slams closed, he has me off again. We stop next to my pile of clothes, which is where he leaves me.
I swipe angrily at the stupid tears threatening at the distance I feel already forming.
The very distance I insisted upon. Doing what needs doing always comes at a cost, and today it feels steeper than usual.
Swallowing a barrel of conflict and emotions, I dress with glacial precision and pull my hair back off my face in a harsh, tight ponytail to match the sudden dip of my joy.
Because of the way the world works, before I can take a step out to say my goodbyes and, according to Ronin, kiss my husbands goodbye, a text pings on my phone. Walsh just fired me.
With an added stomp to my step, I make my way to a certain glaring, toe-tapping Alpha, who doesn’t like it one bit I’m skipping out on his Omega’s heat.
“Hello, husband. You and I both know it’s been a day. A good day,” I say as I slide under the space Ronin makes for me, his arm scooping around my shoulders as he pulls me closer.
One touch, and all the stress that was building like a tsunami disperses as though it was never threatening to wipe me out at all.
“You okay?” he asks, unusually quietly, and I crane my neck to look at him.
His earlier mood is gone, and I’m left feeling like a yo-yo in his presence again.
“Yeah. I’m honestly going to be chilling out, sleeping lots, and going to the gym.”
“No work?” he asks, and his eyebrows rise up, surprised.
“It seems Walsh decided to listen to Keegan’s suggestion he fire me.”
I expected Ronin to laugh, but his clap of fury takes me by surprise, until he hooks his finger under my chin and kisses me. His lips ghosting over mine, he says, “I’ll kill that stupid cunt for sacking you.”
Then I’m the one laughing, before I’m one moaning softly into Ronin’s searing, and slightly possessive, kiss. He cuts it off as fast as he blew my mind, although he doesn’t let me go from under his arm, instead walking me to Keegan.
I get passed over, and it should make me rage, but by God, the way they make me feel soft and overly feminine, and generously adored, chases away any cloudiness to the moment.
Rafferty gives me a nude cuddle, intentionally rubbing himself all over me as a way to remind me of him and what I’m going to be getting when he’s out of his lockdown—which is him.
Tynan gives me a piece of him with his peck on my cheek and a brush of his hand on my face.
No words, but sometimes gestures and intentions are all you need.
Keegan, though, isn’t content with a simple goodbye, and he insists on driving me back to my little house.
There, he crowds me against a wall, leaving me with buzzing lips and a deep throb in my core that has me scurrying inside to search out my toys.
Until I remember that Ronin shot the shit out of the drawer full of my sex toys when I moved out.
A cold shower and three of the cookies Raff, Tynan, and I made, and I pass out in my bed, feeling happy and sad, anxious and eager, all at the same time.
Morning comes, and as I roll over, I plan my day out.
I check my phone to find that each member of Pack O’Connor has sent me a dozen or so messages.
Working through them is a showcase of how different they are—Keegan’s have no emotion, just points that read like barks, which would have been his intention.
Ronin’s are similar but add more reasoning to Keegan’s list, while Tynan’s message gives another perspective again.
Rafferty’s are just dick pics, and not just of his, along with a series of texts that go from cute and sappy to nonsensical within the space of an hour before they stop.
Everyone else’s stop, too, all but confirming he’s enjoying his heat with his pack, which makes me happy.
As soon as I step out the front of my house, I get the evidence of what the guys texted about. I have a bodyguard. An unnecessary complication, but one I can work around because it’s not like anything is going on, anyway.
After doing a strenuous session at the gym, using the program Ty sent in one of his texts, I pull on one of Keegan’s hoodies that I somehow ended up with.
“I’m going to walk over to Miam’s to grab some food. Do you want anything?” I ask the new guard watching over me.
The last one swapped. I knew it was going to happen because Ronin and Keegan had listed off the times the guards would swap and provided images of the men and women taking turns doing the job.
“No thank ya, Mrs. O’Connor. Mighty fine of you to offer but,” this one says.
He smiles, then stays back as I walk off. I know he’s following, but at least he doesn’t crowd me.
Racing over the road, I push through the door and walk into a very different atmosphere.
The first time we visited, the buzzing energy was as profound as the fragrance of the food they baked.
Today, it’s like a black cloud hovers over them.
None of the staff are here, and while I’m not a regular, it’s easy to read something terrible has happened.
I back out, not even trying to figure out what’s going on. Honestly, there’s so many people inside, all I’m doing is adding another unnecessary body to the mix.
The man currently on guard duty comes closer. “All right?”
“Yeah, not sure. Something’s going on. I’ll leave them to it, though, and eat what I’ve got at home.”
With a final look over my shoulder, the bleakness inside the shop feels like I should turn back around and offer my help. Which is not needed, given how many people are already inside, doing just that.
The walk home is long, but the fresh air chases away the unsettledness that I picked up walking into Miam’s. Waving the guard off for the night, I lock myself inside and settle down to binge a detective crime series I’ve been wanting to see for a while.
I’m eating one of Tynan’s pre-made meals, under a cacophony of blankets scenting like pack, when I get a text on my phone from a strange phone number. It’s from Walsh, and when he rings, I answer.
“Walsh?”
“Aye. I lost me fucking phone and had to get a new number.”
I don’t say anything, because I’m pissed he fired me. It doesn’t take long until he’s filling in the gap with his slime-filled apologies.
“I was backed into a corner—you can understand that, right?”
“Not really, but go on.”
“I’m calling to see if you’d be free to work tonight?
I know I’m asking a lot, but it’s a bit of a boon for you because Oscar reached out.
He’s back in town. It won’t look so bad if you’re working and he walks in, but them pack of yours would get their nose out of joint if I was setting up meetings without letting them know too. ”
I’m out of my cozy spot on the lounge, racing up the stairs to my bedroom and throwing out my work clothes on the bed while he’s still rabbiting on.
“What time?”
“As soon as you can get here.”
“You’re paying me time and a half.”
He agrees before I’ve finished speaking, only confirming what a malleable and spineless POS he is.
Racing through my shower and throwing on some makeup, I download my emails while putting on my lipstick. An email from my contact has everything coming to a screeching halt.
There’s news coming in from across Ireland that three new children are missing.
While there’s no suggestion in the email that they’re connected, and the locations are hundreds of miles from each other, I can’t help but put them in the same basket where all the other unsolved child abductions are sitting.
Though, a subsequent email I get is way too specific—the son of Des Kelly, Dessy Kelly, is missing and last seen with Ronin O’Connor.
I sit on the edge of my bed, working through the ramifications of Ronin being identified by the Bureau, as well as the strong evidence pointing to him actually being responsible for the disappearance of Dessy Kelly.
“Fuck Ronin, what are you doing?” I rub my fists in my eyes as I try to wake up from what was my biggest fear—that the O’Connors are involved in the abduction of children, and possibly the skin trade.
I feel like I’m going to vomit. My whole body slumps forward, and I sink into the gravity and reality of what I just read.
The evidence is there, and while he hasn’t been picked up and questioned, he’s on the radar as a suspect.
I cling on to the belief I have, and always have, that Ronin and his pack don’t have anything to do with kiddie porn or the skin trade.
It’s hard to fight against the logic of an investigation, the process of finding those responsible for heinous crimes.
It’s there, though, that I find a way to move past the all-consuming despair that threatens to pull my future from under me.
I’m a solid detective. I get results no one else does because of the skill set I bring to the table.
This investigation is no different. I have to commit to the process or I’ll fall apart.
Leaving my phone on my bed for a moment, I wet a hand towel and hold it to the back of my neck as a way to shock my system out of the tunnel of stress in front of me.
I stare at my reflection, schooling myself into looking at the facts only, and also trusting my gut instincts that haven’t let me down yet.
“Something doesn’t add up,” I repeat quietly as I work hard at locking away the shock of what I just read.
Walking out of the bathroom, I feel better but not great. I sit back down on my bed to read the last update sent over—two employees from Maim didn’t show up for work, which is supposedly highly unusual, according to the woman who reported them missing.
It looks like I’ve got lots of potentially crisscrossing events that I need to either use to gather evidence or decide they’re not connected.
“Normal investigation techniques. No favors. The facts are what will solve the case,” I coach out loud.
Shooting off a response to let my contact know I’ve received the information, I strip out of what I was going to wear and opt for an open-neck shirt, so the bug I wear will have clearer signal, along with black jeans and my boots.
Using my backpack with a concealed compartment, I triple-check my badge and service revolver are inside.
Locking up for the night, I leave the television on and a light, too, throwing the blankets in a heap on the sofa.
Racing outside, I start walking over to where the guards have been parking, to let them know I’m now working, but the space is empty.
Considering the time, it might be because they’re doing a shift change.
I don’t feel spooked by the guards not being here.
It actually annoys me, because the general protocol is to wait until your replacement arrives before you leave.
The flipside is, I don’t have the capacity to deal with other people not knowing how to do their job when I have a pack to either arrest, absolve, or protect.
Arriving at O’Malley’s in an Uber, the night is in full swing, and as I make my way through the crowd, there’s nothing that stands out, making me question if being here was a good idea.