32. Rickon
Chapter thirty-two
Rickon
Warmth simmers against my chest, and I hug it closer, my subconscious mind telling me it’s my omega, who belongs as close as I can get her. Preferably closer. My sleepy mind struggles to place what disturbed me. Did I hear beeping?
The electronic door latch clicks, and I jerk in shock. Callisto doesn’t have my current access code, so only one other person could enter my apartment. But I changed the code again, didn’t I?
“So this is the reason you’ve been ignoring me?” Hudson’s deep voice cuts through my sleep haze like a laser. Nausea claws up into my spasming throat. I try to thrash away the blanket without rolling Red off the couch, but his big hand descends on my knee, trapping me.
“Can’t blame you if you found a pretty omega squeeze. She smells good too.”
My eyes fly wide to meet Red’s gaze. She blinks at me sleepily. “Who’s ’at?”
My grip on her tightens. “Get out, Hudson!” I yell. “I told you we’re over.”
A shrill parrot voice echoes after me. “Over. Over. Fuck off.”
Hudson scoffs. “I came to get my stuff, but this changes things, pretty boy.” He smirks at me and rolls back the blanket. “Let’s take a look.”
Fury radiates up through my chest and my scent explodes like it’s burned. I surge up, slapping at his hand and growling with a vengeance I didn’t know I had. But I’m still a small guy.
Hudson laughs and grabs me around the throat. I trip on Red as he drags me off the couch. “Big words from a Chihuahua-sized man,” he says with a malicious chuckle.
I flail my fists, but my blows bounce off him as his grip on my throat tightens. Everything seems to slow. My breath chokes off and my lungs burn. Over his bulky shoulder I watch as my redheaded omega rises like a fiery phoenix, her pale eyes blazing with divine wrath. She throws the blanket aside and reaches for her purse, flung carelessly on the coffee table when we came home.
“You take your fucking hands off my man, or I swear you’ll lose a body part.” The cold malice in her tone sends a shiver up even my spine as she brandishes her silver fork.
Hudson whistles and grins. “You picked a fiery one, Rick.”
She snarls, lips curling back. “Final warning, asshole. Take your hands off him.”
I cling to Hudson’s arms, trying to lever him off and find more air for my shrinking lungs. “No, Red,” I rasp out, terrified of her getting hurt by the big beta.
Hudson sneers at me. “Stick to being a pretty cock, darling, and—”
That fork arcs through the air, every bit as dazzling as the Grim Reaper’s scythe. It drives into his exposed forearm and the tines sink halfway in. Hudson screams and releases me. My legs give out and I drop to the floor. I try to warn my love, but my bruised throat won’t operate. Pain radiates through my neck and chest.
“You bitch!” Hudson roars.
Red throws my unfinished glass of tea in his face, and then vaults over the couch armrest to dive into the kitchen. I slump, shivering on the floor, but when he follows her, I lurch forward and grab his ankle, tripping him. Hudson roars as he hits the corner of the table and face plants over the edge.
Red reappears, brandishing my Japanese Damascus steel kitchen knife. “Try me, motherfucker!” she yells, sidling around the back of the couch toward me. “Didn’t you hear him say no? He means fucking no, and if you don’t get the fuck out, this one’s going straight through your balls.”
Hudson, thrashing to get upright in the small space, hesitates. Blood wells up from the four divots in his arm and trickles down his wrist. Red takes a step toward him, and he shimmies back across the table, knocking off my bag and the other cup. His eyes track the movement as it falls.
The glass hits the floor and shatters. Ozzie flaps against his cage and shrieks in panic.
Ignoring the noise, Red takes another step forward and lifts the knife. “Don’t you even think about it, you cock-sucking bitch.” Daylight streams in from the window behind, lighting her up.
She’s a flaming Valkyrie come to my aid. My vision blurs and a faint laugh bubbles through my swollen throat. Glorious.
“Get out,” I husk, every sound painful. I want to say more, to explain to Red, but even swallowing makes agonizing waves of heated pain flare through my neck.
“You’ll regret this,” Hudson snarls, face ugly with rage.
“Regret? Not in a million years,” my omega hisses back.
I sway, wondering why Red looks even more beautiful when angry when everyone else tends to look hideous. I struggle to my feet and step to her side, presenting a united front. Adrenaline burns through me, cold and vibrant, but my throat sizzles like it’s on fire.
Hudson backs out the door. I want to tell him I’ll ship his things, or better yet burn them, but the words don’t come. As I move to slam the door on his ass, blue lights swirl across my porch, reflecting up the narrow, boxed-in stairs to this second floor.
“Shit!” I grate out hoarsely. The sirens that hadn’t registered while we were all screaming at one another now sound loudly along the street. “OCB,” I mutter thickly, the movement aching through my neck. I shut the door and lean against it. A neighbor must have reported the screaming. I groan. How am I supposed to protect my omega?
The coffee table’s skewed thanks to Hudson landing on it and as I track around the room, I spot the access hole in the ceiling. I drag the low table over to one side and jump up to lift the hatch. “Manhole,” I choke out, turning to point it out to Red.
She calmly slips her left leg inside her black one-piece suit, then the right, drawing the clinging fabric up her body, knife still gripped in her fist. Somehow she manages to look like a supermodel doing nothing more than prepping for the next catwalk.
I tense as the sound of voices and boots filters in under the door. “Red, hide,” I wheeze.
She strolls over and tugs me off the table. “No, Rickon.”
Tears pool in my eyes at the resolute set of her jaw.
“I don’t want you doing anything illegal.” Her smile falters. “If anyone asks, you had no idea I was wanted, okay?”
I shake my head in refusal, but she catches my chin with feather-light fingers and smiles. The lethal knife blade swings an inch away from my ear, but I feel safe with her. “We can’t be telling different stories. They’re going to catch up to me sooner or later, so I might as well turn myself in now. Just promise me something.” Her voice cracks a little. “Promise me you won’t leave me in the Center to rot.”
Tears spill down my cheeks. “What will happen to you?”
She shrugs like it’s no big deal, but her hand quivers. “Just a bunch of bullshit psych evaluations.” She licks her lips, gaze hooking into mine. “Swear it.”
I plant my hand on my chest. “I swear on my body and soul, I’ll come for you, Red.”
The tension melts out of her. “That’s good enough for me. This is the favor I wanted to call in from Director Yun anyway.”
I grip her wrists with all the strength I can master. I need her to know the guy who barged in doesn’t have a place in my life. My voice comes out as a hoarse whisper. “I broke up with him before I even met you. Believe me, Red. I’d never—” Tears stream down my face, blurring her outline. Fuck. What if she thinks I’ve been playing her? I couldn’t bear that.
Her thumb darts out to press on my lips, silencing me. “I know. You’re wonderful, alpha, so I know you’re not like that. But stop talking now.”
I sag with relief. My omega believes me. She thinks I’m a good person.
Her gaze drifts away from me and she makes a small noise in the back of her throat as she realizes the knife’s still in her hand. She steps back and lifts it for inspection. “You’d make a nice partner for Fabby, but I’m afraid you’ll have to stay here for now.”
Red carries the knife into the kitchen, and I hear the drawer roll open and shut. After another door thumps and she comes back with a bag of frozen veggies, which she wraps in a towel and gently lifts to circle my neck.
When she spins away, I lash out, trying to grab her hand, but I miss. I choke as Red throws open the front door. “Help!” she calls. “We need medical attention in here!” Her voice echoes around the concrete stairwell.
Big figures in navy blue loom just outside the door and I sink onto the coffee table as they enter. The voices blur into a single buzzing mass that hurts my ears. Red shrinks back from the burly alphas and I jump up, trying to reach her, but collide with the corner of the armchair. Red scoops her cherished fork off the floor and drops it into her purse and then flashes me one last wistful smile before disappearing down the stairwell.
An agent rests his hand on my back, calling out to me, but it sounds distant. My body feels numb and lifeless.
My heart aches more than the bruising swelling my throat. I only just found my omega, but now I’ve lost her.