Chapter 31
THIRTY-ONE
KYREN
Our SUV pulls up to Boys Night Out just as I spot Trinity and Josie standing near the entrance. Trinity looks frazzled, her hair a beautifully curly mess from the humid night air, while Josie bounces on her toes with poorly contained energy.
“There they are,” Matheo says, already moving toward the door as our group climbs out of the vehicles. Trinity’s eyes find mine immediately, relief flooding her features. “Thank god you’re here.”
“What’s the situation?” I ask, falling into step beside her as the others gather around.
Josie giggles, covering her mouth with her hand.
“Amelia is taking a much-needed nap in our VIP booth. Isabelle challenged one of the bouncers to an arm-wrestling contest, and if she loses, we’re all banned for life from the club.
Holly’s crying because she thinks the male strippers don’t find her attractive.
She’s not wrong, but we did confirm that they’re all gay.
Tiffany is the least drunk, but I still don’t think we’re getting her out of here without help. ”
Egret’s face goes pale. “My sisters are what?”
“Your sisters are plastered,” Trinity confirms, gesturing toward the club. “I think it’s time for all of us to go home.”
The thumping bass from inside the club vibrates through the walls, accompanied by what sounds like karaoke gone wrong and several voices cheering.
“How bad are we talking?” Brendin asks, already moving toward the entrance.
“Scale of one to ten?” Trinity tilts her head.
“Amelia’s at about an eight. She lost her shirt somewhere around the third body shot, but we at least have her contained in the booth, and she’s easy to dress in her sleep.
Isabelle is steadier on her feet, but she keeps talking about how easy it would be for her to take people in a fight. So, nine point five?”
Saren runs a hand through his hair. “Jesus Christ.”
“And Holly...” Trinity pauses, glancing at Josie. “You tell me.”
“Holly’s at a solid seven and convinced that all the dancers are personally rejecting her,” Josie finishes with another giggle. “She tried to tip one guy with the diamond earrings that her parents gave her as a high school graduation gift.”
I can’t help but grin. “Sounds like they’re having the time of their lives.”
Trinity shoots me a look that could melt steel. “This is not funny. I’m the maid of honor. I’m supposed to keep everyone together and get them home safely.”
“Which is exactly what you’re doing,” Lucas points out gently. “You called for backup when you needed it. So let’s get them out of there.”
The bouncer at the door recognizes Trinity and waves us through without checking IDs, as if he wants us in there as quickly as possible. The moment we step inside, the chaos becomes immediately apparent.
The club thrums with energy—disco balls casting rainbow patterns across the walls, performers on stage in various stages of undress, and a crowd that’s significantly more intoxicated than when the night started.
In the VIP section, I spot Amelia immediately.
She’s standing on a table, arms raised in triumph, wearing only a lacy black bra and her designer pants while a very patient-looking performer named Thunder—according to his bedazzled thong—tries to convince her to put her shirt back on.
Nearby, Isabelle has indeed found someone willing to arm wrestle her—a petite beta woman with enough muscle that she looks like she could bench press a compact car.
Holly sits in a chair beside them, mascara slightly smudged, clutching a martini glass and watching the dancers with the intensity of someone trying to solve a complex mathematical equation.
Tiffany sits at the booth, still sipping on a drink with glazed eyes.
“Divide and conquer?” Cash suggests, already moving toward Holly while Lucas and Matheo trail behind him.
“Good plan,” Egret agrees, his authoritative alpha presence immediately commanding attention as he strides toward his sister on the table. “Amelia! Get down from there before you hurt yourself.”
“Eggie!” Amelia squeals, pointing at him with dramatic flair. “Look! I’m winning at a strip club!”
Josie grabs Saren’s hand and pulls him toward Isabelle. “Come on, we need to extract her before she challenges someone actually dangerous.”
When Brendin beelines to Tiffany, that leaves me with Trinity, watching the chaos unfold as our combined packs work to wrangle four very drunk women.
“You handled this perfectly,” I tell her, bumping her shoulder with mine. “Getting everyone here safely, making sure Josie stayed sober, calling for help when you needed it.”
Trinity blows out a breath. “I feel like I’m herding cats. Very expensive, very drunk cats.”
“The best kind,” I reply, earning a small smile from her.
Across the room, Egret has successfully coaxed Amelia down from the table and is helping her back into her shirt while she protests that the night is still young.
Brendin and Saren are negotiating with Isabelle, who seems reluctant to abandon her arm-wrestling tournament.
Tiffany is still slumped in the booth but isn’t putting up a fight.
Josie watches from the sidelines, but I notice they don’t let her get more than an arm’s reach away.
“They actually seem to care,” Trinity observes, watching Egret gently guide his sister toward the exit.
“Shocking, right?” I say dryly. “Maybe they’re not complete assholes after all.”
Trinity glances at me. “Jury’s still out on that one.”
We approach where Holly sits on a chair near the stage. She sits hunched in a velvet chair, clutching her martini glass like a lifeline while tears streak down her cheeks. Her mascara has created dark rivulets that make her look like a sad raccoon.
But something stops me cold as I get closer. A spark of recognition that almost rocks me back on my heels.
Holly’s eyes widen when she sees me, and her grip tightens on her glass.
“Oh my god,” she breathes, her voice cutting through the club’s thumping bass. “I know you. ”
I suppress a flash of panic.
Before Trinity, I’d spent about a year taking heat-breaking contracts. There was a string of omegas whose names and faces I’ve done my best to forget in the hopes I never see them again.
Trinity looks back and forth between us. “You guys know each other?”
Holly’s mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. Fresh tears spill down her cheeks as she shakes her head frantically. “I... I don’t know!”
She dissolves into sobs, the martini glass trembling in her hands.
“She is plastered.” Trinity tries and fails to help Holly to her feet. “Kyren? Do you have any idea what she’s talking about?”
“Never seen her before in my life,” I say loudly, aware of Matheo, Cash and Lucas standing a few feet behind me. I take a step closer, lowering my voice enough that only Trinity can hear me over the thumping bass. “She an omega?”
“No, beta. Why?” As soon as she asks the question, Trinity’s eyes widen in shock before she glances behind me. Her voice lowers. “You couldn’t know her from that. There’s no way.”
Except I’m pretty sure I do remember the petite, Asian omega who kept trying to take study breaks in the middle of her heat. Cute, but very much not my type.
But why is she hiding her designation?
More importantly, how do I keep her from spilling the beans on both of us while she’s too drunk for her mouth to have a filter?
I step forward and sweep Holly up into my arms before she can say another word. She squeaks in surprise, the martini glass tumbling from her hands and shattering on the floor with a crash that barely registers over the club’s pounding music.
“Shhh, hey now,” I murmur, shifting her weight so she’s cradled against my chest. Her tears soak into my shirt as she buries her face against my shoulder. “You’re okay. Just had a little too much to drink, that’s all.”
Holly’s sobs quiet to hiccups as I rock her slightly, the way I might comfort a distressed child. There’s something about being held that seems to calm her down immediately—probably her omega nature responding to alpha comfort, even if she’s hiding her designation for whatever reason.
“See?” I say to Trinity over Holly’s head, keeping my voice light and casual. “Just drunk and confused. Happens to the best of us.”
Trinity watches me with those sharp hazel eyes, and I practically see the wheels turning in her head.
She knows something’s off, but she can’t quite put her finger on what.
Behind her, Matheo and Cash exchange glances, both looking concerned about this unexpected complication.
Lucas just watches me too closely, expression unreadable.
Holly mumbles something incoherent against my chest, her words slurred beyond recognition. Perfect. The last thing I need is her drunkenly spilling details about our previous encounter to the entire group.
“Time to get everyone back to the resort,” I announce, adjusting my grip on Holly as she grows heavier in my arms. “This one’s about ready to pass out, and from the looks of it, the Mahoney sisters aren’t far behind.”
Trinity nods slowly. “You’re right. It’s been a long night.”
As we make our way toward the exit, Holly’s breathing evens out and her body relaxes completely against mine. By the time we reach the cars, she’s fast asleep, looking innocent and peaceful despite the mascara streaks on her cheeks.
I just hope she doesn’t remember much about tonight when she wakes up tomorrow.