Chapter 15 – Grim
Chapter Fifteen
Grim
I’m done with today.
Handling cleanup and decontamination is a lengthy process.
I’m cold, agitated, and missing Lacey something fierce.
The only plus side is, I’m pretty sure she fell asleep.
Everything we had to manage took way longer than I thought it would, but it’s a relief to know she’s resting peacefully rather than waiting up, worrying about me.
Once we’re finally done, Callum and I argue over how he’s getting back to the house until I finally just swipe a hand through the air and mutter, “Good luck.”
He’s a stubborn fuck.
He never should have brought his bike out tonight, but he’s dead set on riding it back to the house.
I’m still a good friend, even if I’m tired of his shit, so I tail him the entire way to ensure he doesn’t end up a stain on the pavement. That way, if he takes a header over his handlebars, he won’t be flattened into a pancake. That would really add insult to injury.
When we make it back to the house, it’s a little before four a.m. It’s fucking frigid, but that’s no surprise. The weather forecast played on the radio on the way home. It mentioned there’s a possibility that we’ll get snow tomorrow.
I love winter, but I miss the mountains. There was nothing like waking up on Christmas morning to a blanket of freshly fallen snow covering the ground. It’s still beautiful, even in the city. It just tends to turn to sludge a hell of a lot faster here.
Getting my truck parked in the garage, I climb out, lock it, and follow Callum up the stairs to the door that leads inside.
“I was thinking about it on the way home. I’ve got to say, you were efficient.
Not to mention how varied your kill methods were.
” He chuckles, scanning his finger to unlock the door and opening it.
“A slit throat, a broken neck, and blunt-force trauma. You were going for the varied-kill bonus, weren’t you? ”
“You’re a damn idiot,” I grumble.
“The mass murderer trifecta.” He snorts. “I’m proud of you, man.”
Some days, I’m surprised I haven’t snapped and taken him out. Other days, he shows up when I really need his ass and helps me dispose of three bodies.
I guess that’s what friendship is all about. He might be on my last nerve half the time, but the other half, I’m grateful he’s on our side.
It takes everything in me not to rip out Wilder’s spine when I finally locate him and Lacey. I assumed she would be waiting in my bed, but the fucker put her in the pack bedroom, which was actually the third place I checked.
I went into my room first, took a quick shower—even though I did the full decontamination protocol at the warehouse—and pulled on sweats to go look for my omega.
When Wilder’s room was empty, I got anxious, but seeing Lacey sleeping peacefully soothes a part of my soul.
I’m still not sure how I feel about finding her snuggled up with Wilder.
Logically, my brain understands the goal has always been to warm her to the idea of being shared between the three of us.
But my instincts are on edge, and even someone I consider a friend feels like a threat with our bonding so fresh.
Back when I met Wilder, I wasn’t expecting much. I knew he was looking for someone to run his personal security team and that he was taking over for his fathers in the family business.
Three years later, I think of him more like the little brother I never had.
I close the door behind me and flip the dickhead off when he opens his eyes, stretching an arm to pat around the nightstand for his gun.
This isn’t even his room, but with how comfortable he looks, it’s probably muscle reflex.
I doubt he would have dropped a Glock on the nightstand if he knew Lacey might spot it.
I’m not tired, though my adrenaline crashed long ago. Every cell in my body needs to climb into bed behind Lacey, cuddle up to her backside, and simply breathe her in.
I circle to the far side of the bed. If nothing else, I like that Wilder put himself between her and the breach point to enter the room. That’s probably the only thing that saved him from waking up to my fist in his face. He might have heard me come in, but I’m fast when I need to be.
I’m quiet and as gentle as possible as I climb into bed. I’m still a big bastard, so the mattress bounces as I get situated, scooting closer to the middle. Everything in me aches to be as close to Lacey as possible.
She’s curled up facing Wilder with her head on his shoulder.
I wrap myself around her back, but I’m so tall, and she’s so scrunched up that my knees fit perfectly under her feet. They’re bare, and it’s a struggle to hold back a growl.
Wilder should have put her in socks to avoid her toes getting cold.
Whatever.
I’m here now, and I’m like a portable heater.
I pull her hair away from her neck, and my nostrils flare as I breathe in heavily. Her hair is still slightly damp, which is another thing Wilder should have focused more on.
I swear.
It’s like he wants her to die of pneumonia or something. Okay, I’m not technically sure that’s how germs work, but this is Lacey. I’m not willing to find out.
I’m so fucking lucky that she didn’t deny the bond.
I was rabid—fully lost to the fog—at least during the fight.
By the time I started to come back to myself, my instincts were convinced I had to bite her right then and there.
Some deep part of me was sure it would give her an added layer of protection, since a bond changes the omega’s scent.
She’ll forever carry hints of my smell, and it should help deter any alphas who are only after an unbonded omega.
I nose around the side of her head, breathing her in even more fully. Her smell is still familiar, but my instincts were right. It’s easy to tell that she’s now claimed.
My chest puffs with pride, and I take in my canine marks just below her ear.
That reminds me.
I need to nurse the bite to clean it. It’s also supposed to speed up her healing time.
No matter how I bend, I’m too tall to reach her throat, so I scoot down until my face is in front of her neck and swipe my tongue over my bondmark.
There’s no way to describe how satisfying it feels when a hit of euphoria radiates through the bond.
It’s impressive, considering she’s asleep.
Making sure my bite is freshly cleaned, I stretch over her back to check if I can clean her other scratches.
They’re inaccessible from this position, so they’ll have to wait until tomorrow.
Huh.
I wonder if it really does help heal other minor wounds. My instincts were in charge in the alley, and my system was sure it would help. I’m going to chalk that up to Mother Nature knowing what’s best, or maybe I’m still addled from the decay.
“You’re real fucking lucky she accepted your bite,” Wilder says softly. “Callum is usually the one I have to worry about going off the rails.”
“I know,” I admit, trying to keep my voice low. “I lost time again.”
I was hazy once I slit the first guy’s throat, but I kept telling myself not to give in to the fog. It didn’t work, and I blacked out completely during the fight.
The one thing I know I would never do was hurt Lacey, but it’s scary shit to lose chunks of time.
“All of that should be coming to an end soon.” He stretches over, patting my shoulder. “I want to hear all about how the cleanup went, but that’ll keep until tomorrow. Get some rest.”
“Was she okay? Did she break down once you made it home?” I can’t keep my face buried in Lacey’s throat forever. I’d love to do exactly that, but my feet hang off the end of the mattress in this position.
“She was anxious, but overall, she was okay. Her biggest concern seemed to be ensuring you didn’t end up punished for your part in things.” He chuckles softly. “Although, I think we might have hell to pay tomorrow when she’s no longer in triage mode.”
I grimace.
It’s a possibility, but I don’t see Lacey holding a grudge for long. I see her being more confused than anything. She’ll probably ask a fair number of questions, but she’s owed the basics.
She’s always had the utmost patience with me, even when I grunted and growled and could barely form words. When anyone else would have looked at me as little more than an animal, she was understanding. It’s one of the first things that sparked my obsession with her.
“I have a few gifts in the closet to distract her if it comes down to it,” Wilder whispers.
“You might want to dig around tomorrow and find a pet store or a shelter… I think a kitten would help. Although, fuck. No part of me wants to deal with litter boxes around the house. Do you think we could talk her into a puppy? The—”
I grunt, cutting him off. “She wants a kitten. She’s getting a damn kitten.”
And that’s the end of that.