31. Red
Chapter thirty-one
Red
That damn Omega Center! My face stares back at me from the giant TV screen, making the hairs on my arms stand on end. Pours ice water all over my fantastic day. Not only that, but how am I going to explain this to Rickon? His wide eyes flick from me back to the TV and my instincts beg me to run.
I grab his hand and drag him toward the exit. “Let’s talk about this somewhere else, yeah?” Shit. I’ve run into dozens of people since we’ve been here. One of them might have tipped off Samantha already.
Rickon follows me on unsteady feet, shock turning his handsome face white. “Red?”
“I promise I’ll explain everything, but not here.” I silently beg him to just trust me one more time, like he did with my acting. That paid off well enough, didn’t it?
My alpha drags on my hand, jolting me back. “No.”
My throat closes up. “Please, Rickon?” I beg. Will I be forced to choose between my alpha and freedom?
He shakes his head and turns me into the wall, shielding my face with his hands as a staff member walks by. “You’re too noticeable,” he whispers. “We’ll never make the trip home. Come this way.”
What?
He turns back into the building and hustles me down a long aisle and I stumble after him, my mind working overtime to catch up. My pulse leaps as we pause in front of a giant doorway with the word wardrobe printed across the front.
The front area acts as a reception, but the rest of the room opens out into a warehouse with row after row of giant shelves stacked with crates. Rickon veers down an aisle where all the boxes are labeled Hope at Sea with a scene number.
“This was our latest film. Good thing they haven’t archived the props yet.” Rickon spots the crate he wants and digs into it, pulling out a scarf and beret. My breath catches as he steps in close and tucks my braid into the cap before settling it over my hair, hiding the bright red strands. He deftly knots the scarf around my neck, then digs into another box for sunglasses.
“You’re not angry?” I ask softly.
He readjusts the angle of the sloped hat and fits the sunglasses on, holding my jaw gently when he’s done. “You said you’d tell me everything.” His lovely green eyes bore into mine, super serious. “I’m all in, no matter what kind of trouble you’re going through.”
My throat burns. Fuck. I don’t cry, ever, except for those times that mustn’t be mentioned, but this tests my self-control.
“Come on.” Rickon fills out and signs some kind of register and then takes me outside where he calls an Omuber. While we wait for the car, he pulls out a palm-sized makeup kit and dusts brown eyeshadow over my brows to cover the red. “That’s the best I can do right now,” he mutters as he slides it back into his bag.
I take his hand. “Thank you.”
He squeezes back in silence, and then wipes his brow with his sleeve. The spring air still has a touch of winter in it, so I know he’s stressing rather than overheating. Who can blame him? I’m an omega on the run.
The Omuber pulls up and Rickon gives the driver an address that sounds different from his. I stiffen. What if he’s going to rat me out to the OCB? I’d never forgive him, so I suppose it’s best to know right away if this is going to work or not. I sit like I’m carved of stone for the entire ride with my belly tangling into knots.
We don’t pull up in front of a big Omega Crimes Bureau building, which confuses me even more.
“Where are we?” I ask as Rickon slams the car door behind us.
He glances around. “A block from the back of my building. The main street has cameras.”
I follow him through shadowed alleyways that smell strongly of fish guts before turning onto his street. The beeps as he keys his PIN into the pad sound loud in the alcove and I can’t resist checking over my shoulder for watchers. We slip inside and the door shuts behind us. I slump with relief.
Rickon braces both hands on the back of the door and groans.
“I thought you were turning me in,” I murmur.
He stiffens and turns. “That wouldn’t be fair to either of us. But I would appreciate some answers.”
I nod and he heads into the kitchen to pour us iced tea. I drop onto the sofa and clasp my hands around my knees. The real question is, how much do I tell him? If he knows how used and broken the real Red is, will he decide I’m too much work, scent match or not? He might think I’m making up the whole soulmate thing to begin with just to get his help.
But I couldn’t lie about that even if I tried.
Lost in my thoughts, I twitch when glass clinks nearby as Rickon sets our cups on the coffee table. His pale green eyes bore into me as he sits down, not even reaching for his glass. “Did you commit a crime?”
“What?” I gasp. “No. Well, not really.” I guess if you count stealing while I helped myself to a shower and new outfit, plus the purse. Maybe the OCB wants to question me about the luggage at the hotel?
Ha! As if. This has Samantha stamped all over it.
I curl my fingers around the cold glass, watching the ice cubes float in the liquid. “So, a few weeks ago, the OCB rescued me from this place that was keeping omegas against their will under the guise of providing medical treatment . . . except half the conditions were made up.” I lick my lips, wondering about my own so-called psychosis. Will Rickon also think I’m not fit for a regular life?
His eyes widen. “The big raid that was on the news?”
I shrug. “Probably. I can’t even remember anywhere I lived before, and, well, something like that situation kind of does a number on your thinking cap.” I tap the side of my head, still not looking at him.
My legs shiver involuntarily. Fuck, this is a hundred times worse than any of those shrink meetings because I actually care about Rickon’s opinion of me.
“They took us to the Omega Center, but I ran into a few problems there.” I take a sip of my tea, letting the cool drink draw some of the heat from my mouth. “I couldn’t use their book of scent samples. The combined smell of so many alphas made me puke.”
Rickon’s handsome brow furrows. “So it’s complete chance that you ran into Callisto? And me?”
“Chance. Fate. Effort.” I shrug, feeling small, like the apartment swelled while we were out. “Most of the time I’m pretty sensible, but there are times—” I hesitate. Should I just get up and walk out now? Save myself the humiliation? Maybe my dream of alphas isn’t worth the trouble and I’m better off striking out on my own.
The discontent vibrating through my brain hums in the silence. One is quiet, as it’s been since I met Rickon. The other, steady and proud, belongs to Callisto’s. But at least one more hum rings between my ears, and it’s always agitated. I know that feeling too well from my own experiences. And now that one voice has settled, I really don’t want to go back, don’t want to lose Rickon. Don’t want to feel alone again.
Tears prickle in the back of my nose and I rub my face to warn them away. Best to get it over with. “There are times when I’m not myself. The shrinks at the Omega Center declared I wouldn’t be fit to live in the real world without more therapy and shit.” I drag my lip through my teeth, my hands tightening on my glass. “It felt like the illegal hub all over again, so I left. Without permission.”
Unable to bear the silence, I glance up. Rickon sits across from me, tears trickling down his cheeks. The sight shocks me so much I spasm and knock over my glass, splashing icy liquid all over my knees.
“Shit!” I snatch the glass up. “I mean, why are you crying?”
Rickon sniffs and runs for a towel, kneeling to wipe my knees and mop the floors. He doesn’t answer until he’s done. “I can’t even imagine what you’ve been through, Red. You were locked up for years?”
I grab his shoulders. “You did hear the part about me being certifiably fucked in the head, right?”
He wipes his face on his arm and leans on my knees. “You already told me that, the moment we met.”
I stare at him, my fingers digging in tighter. My brain runs back over everything we said and did. I mean, yeah, I did say I was certified crazy, I think. I also said I was an actress and other stuff. But he doesn’t care? I huff out a deep breath. “You’re an idiot.”
He hiccups through a chuckle. “Only for you.”
I shake my head. “I should be the one crying, not you.”
“Do you want to cry?” he shoots back.
“No,” I hiss.
“Then let me cry for you.” He buries his head in my lap and sobs. “You’ve been through so much.”
I sit frozen, every tremor shaking his shoulders translating into my hands and his tears drenching my body suit. No one cries for me, ever. No one but him.
When he calms a little, I stroke his white hair. “You’re not human, are you?”
He laughs and lifts his tear-streaked face. Crying must be the one kryptonite to his gorgeous looks, because he’s a total mess with puffy eyes and a red nose.
Rickon twists so he can lay his head in my lap but still look at me. “What do we do?”
I sigh and lean back. “They’re going to catch up to me eventually, especially now they’ve put my face on the news. When they do, I need you to come get me out of there. Scent matches should be together.”
“Agreed. I don’t have a lot to offer you, Red, but whatever I have is yours.” His hands dig through the cushions to circle my waist.
“Then that’s plenty.” The warmth of his contact settles deep in my core, as vibrant as his faith in me. I squirm as my leg gets pins and needles under his weight. “I’m all wet.”
Instead of letting go, he nuzzles into my stomach. “Want some help getting out of this?”
I chuckle as I stroke his silky hair. “Feels like you have intentions.”
He snorts. “Girl, I’ve had intentions since you first put this sexy suit on, and they got a ton more intense when you seduced Mr Yun.”
My attempt to smother a giggle totally fails. “That was pretty good, right?”
“Wanna know how good?”
The heat in his voice makes me shiver. I lick my lips. “Mm-hmm.”
Rickon grabs my hand and tucks it between his legs. A rock-hard boner strains against his pants. “That’s just from the memory.”
I press my lips together to hide my grin. “So, it was even harder before?”
“Yeah. You might be able to coax out a replay, though.” He pitches his hips forward to drag himself through my hand. All the warmth that’s been flooding my body comes to a boil and my skin suddenly feels overheated.
The alpha hesitates, eyes shuttering as he leans back. “I want you, but is this okay? I mean, your face is on the news, and the day’s been super stressful.”
I lean in and press my mouth to his. “I’m fine, Rickon. You’ll learn I don’t break so easily.”
Rickon deftly undoes my belt buckle and tilts me forward to reach the zip at my back. His cool hands on my skin make me shiver as he peels me out of the shoulder straps. The sequins clink softly together as the one-piece folds down my body.
My alpha purrs. That’s the only way to describe the husky rumble that rolls through his lips. “On your knees, Biscuit,” he orders softly, and I slide off the couch.
He drops his pants, the silver studs down the fabric glinting as they slip away. Rickon fists himself, eyes fixed hungrily on me. “You need to take responsibility for this, Red.”
I nod and he slides his satin tip across my cheek.
“Open.”
I’ve never had cock in my mouth. It was never necessary for producing haze. I open obediently, loving the intensity rolling off him along with his thickening scent. “Yes, alpha.”
He swears softly under his breath before pressing into my mouth. Slowly he slides across my tongue, letting us both adjust. I feel overfull and nervous about grazing him with my teeth.
“Relax,” he murmurs, one hand sliding into my hair. Gently he tilts my head back a fraction and then everything fits. On my knees and hemmed in on both sides, I’m at his mercy, but no fear rises to choke me. This is Rickon, who placed all his faith in me, even after learning the truth. I seal my lips and suck experimentally.
Rickon groans. “That feels so good, Biscuit.”
I’ll have to ask about that nickname one day, but right now all I need is to suck, working his tip deeper into the back of my mouth as I get more confident. Being filled this way sparks a tingling kind of desperation deep in my chest that works its way outward to my skin. It’s dirty and raw, needy and feral. And what uncaps the whole mess is that fucking purr vibrating through my alpha.
Slick drips down my thighs.
His hand tenses on the back of my head, driving me deeper onto his cock. “Shit, Red, don’t stop.” He groans, heavy and thrilling.
I choke and he lets off immediately, shutting down the bad memories threatening to surface. I have no reason to fear now; with Rickon I’m as safe as I can possibly be. I try again, taking him deep into my throat and forcing myself not to gag.
“Oh, fuck, girl!” His thighs quiver under my palms and he thrusts forward. “I’m coming, Red. Don’t lose a drop.”
I barely taste him as he spurts down my throat, his cock trembling with each burst. A neediness swamps over me, scrambling my senses and I let out a high-pitched whine.
Rickon whips out, leaving a trail of salty cum across my tongue. I’ve barely time to evaluate it when he tips me forward so my head’s on the couch and runs his hand down my back. “I’ve thought about this body all day,” he murmurs in my ear as he slides under my ass cheeks and runs his fingers through my folds. “And you’re soaked. Such a good, wet girl.”
I moan and grab his arm; something about the definition in his forearm drives me wild, and I dig my fingertips in to explore the texture. Rickon curves two fingers and hooks them into my pussy. I moan deeply, fireworks erupting through my core.
His free arm tightens across my chest, clamping our heaving bodies together. “That’s it. Whine for me again, my omega. Tell me how much you want this.”
“It feels so good!” I moan.
He pushes harder, his hand cupping my pussy with each thrust. “Yeah?” He’s panting with me, each hot gust rushing past my sensitive ear. He’s feeding off my lust, getting pleasure just from the feel of my body under his palms. I’m doing this to him.
He clutches me to his chest and pounds his hand in hard. I spread my knees and sink onto his fingers, whining with desperation. Lava boils in my belly and I strain, holding his arm in a death grip.
“Alpha!” I cry.
“Come for me, my gorgeous omega,” he demands, sealing his command with a kiss.
I mewl into his mouth and sink lower, trapping his hand to the floor as lust overwhelms me. He licks up my whines and lifts me so he can keep thrusting. I shatter with a scream, wet sounds murmuring from his fingers as he rides me through the burning pulses. It feels like a river bursts between my thighs, but if he cares about the rug getting wet, he doesn’t mention it.
“So good,” he murmurs, dropping his sweaty forehead to my shoulder and panting with effort.
I whimper and collapse onto him, exhausted. Rickon rocks back gently so he can sit down and pulls me into his lap, our pants syncing until our chests rise in unison as we catch our breath.
“Are you hungry?” he whispers.
“No.”
He nuzzles into my neck, inhaling my scent. “I just want to lie down and hold you awhile. Is that okay?”
“Sounds perfect,” I murmur, feeling sleepy. From what little I knew of sex, I thought alphas were all about sticking their cocks in, but Rickon seems enamored with any kind of touch. It’s a marvel that we can enjoy each other like this, and come in whatever way we like, without expectations. It feels safe.
Rickon levers me up off him and we resettle on the couch. He drags a woven blanket off the backrest and spreads it over us, tugging me against his chest. His heartbeat pounds in my ear and I soften.
“I love you,” Rickon murmurs sleepily.
I want to say it back, but it sticks on my tongue. He still doesn’t know everything about me. Doesn’t know how much of a used toy I am. One day, I’ll work up the courage.
I squeeze him tight.