Chapter 6
Chapter
Six
SHILOH
If I was in anyone else’s home, I would say I’m being incredibly rude. Instead, I know Pack Mayor doesn’t fucking care that I’m working on my computer.
They even set me up with a desk, a bottle of water, and a goddamned sandwich in their den before getting started on our current problem.
The omegas we rescued are at a private hospital that won’t ask questions as they get treated, and now we’re attempting to figure out how to help them move forward.
“We could possibly see if the packs in the area would be willing to take one of them,” Lyle muses. “Savannah really needs more omega centered services the way other places do. There are six omegas, right?”
“Yes,” Ansel replies. Our men found omegas kept in cages when they raided the building. It seems they were a very well kept secret.
While I’m concerned about why Cassidy was there, it was very lucky for them that she was.
My fingers click through the files of the laptop that Greig pulled out of the building, shaking my head at the windfall of information I’m finding.
There’s detailed explanations of where each omega was bought from, how long they’ve been with the owner, Winchell Rock, and all of his other businesses.
Unsurprisingly, the bastard owns a gentleman’s club in Atlanta, and is new to our city. He could have continued to be someone else’s problem, but he shit in Savannah and that’s unacceptable.
“None of them know each other?” I ask. Winter and Bellamy’s names are ingrained in my mind as we’ve been discussing them, but I can’t get myself to say them out loud yet. The omegas are also listed as Summer and Chase, which are obviously pseudonyms.
“No, they don’t. I did check on that,” Ansel says. “Abbott texted a second ago to tell me that the drugs they’ve been pumping into the omegas are definitely opioids, and that the drugs pushed through the vents of the room Cassidy was in was a mixture of aml nitrite and GHB.”
“They roofied her,” I mutter. “Fuck.”
“That’s essentially what it sounds like,” Lyle says, rubbing his eyes. “I swear, every day I tell myself I’ve seen everything I possibly can, and then something else happens.”
Lyle is a lawyer for many of the elite packs in Savannah, and he does the paperwork for our more legitimate work. He also knows some of the less legal shit we get up to. Though he groans and complains about lawyer-client privilege, I don’t think he minds.
He’s paid very well, after all.
“Now that we know what drugs were used, Riley can help Cassidy. She’s going to feel like shit for a day or two, but the concern is for the other omegas,” Ansel says.
“They were kept with a high dose of opioids and sedatives. Coming off after months of consistent use against their will won’t be pretty. ”
“They were so weak,” I add under my breath as I continue to work.
“Correct,” Ansel says. “Do you really think that we can get packs to agree to help us take care of omegas that’ll be really ill?”
“Well, the hospital can take care of the worst of the detox,” Lyle says, though his expression says he doesn’t like the idea of them being alone through it.
“I can start making some discreet calls in the meantime,” Silas says, his lips pursed. “I know a few older members of the community who would be happy to help. They’re less likely to have to worry about omegas in their home feeling threatened by their presence as well. Let me see what I can do.”
“Thank you, Silas,” Lyle says, squeezing his thigh as he gets up to begin making calls across the room. This way, he has privacy as we continue to discuss things, but doesn’t have to come back to update us.
It helps that they have a large den for us to work in.
“Hello, Helen?” Silas asks, making me smile. He is the best one for the job, since he’s great at convincing people to do things.
I don’t know many people who dislike him, and that’s saying something.
“Next issue,” Ansel murmurs. “Shiloh, how are you doing with your research?”
“These people are cunts,” I say without thinking, making Lyle snort.
“There’s everything from a list of ownership to upcoming auction dates, as well as deaths of their inventory.
They have little concern for life. I still have more to get into, but one of the things I’m most interested in is following the money. ”
“Please let me run a lawsuit against them,” Lyle begs. “It’ll be so much fun!”
“Or…I could just kill them all and that would be more fun for me,” I say with a smirk.
“Clearly our types of fun are very different,” Ansel chuckles, shaking his head in amusement.
This is another reason why we enjoy working with Pack Mayor.
“Lalalala,” Lyle sings, covering his ears.
“Darling, I keep telling you that doesn’t work if you want to ensure you can protect us,” Silas calls from the other side of the room, ending his call.
“Besides, you know that you also enjoy finding retribution with your fists just as much as we do,” I remind him, thinking back to how Nina’s mother found her end.
“I have to pretend that I’m an upstanding, law-abiding citizen,” Lyle shrugs.
“I am an upstanding citizen, but the law-abiding part is usually hit or miss,” I parry, hacking into Winchell’s accounts. “Not to mention, I’m committing multiple crimes while sitting here.”
“True. Send me a list later in case it ever comes up. The trick to being on retainer for you all is that you’re never caught,” Lyle replies.
Everyone around him knocks on wood, making him laugh. We are a superstitious bunch, and that’ll never change.
“Alright, let us know if you need help on the less legal side of things,” he adds. “We’ll make sure that the omegas at the hospital are well taken care of.”
“Thank you,” I say, closing out of my current work before closing my laptop with a sigh. I’m ready to go home. I’ll continue to work from home after a shower. “Ansel told you our many sins today…”
“I’m not a priest,” Lyle says. “I’m far from it actually, but I am the guy who will make sure no one knows you were ever there.”
Nodding, I go over everything I did to ensure he can do that. The security cameras are wiped from the street, inside The Hug Project, and the side streets. Pack Tremaine and their omegas are ghosts.
Goddamn. Our omegas. I woke up with sinus shit this morning, and have no idea if they actually are mine. I’m still up in the air about this, though I did feel a pull when I saw them. My sympathy factor can be hit or miss, which has a lot to do with being a psychopath.
I have the ability to disconnect when I kill, just like I have the same ability to do this when I’m fucking with someone’s life. I’ve already decided that Winchell is a better fertilizer than a human, which means I’ll begin dismantling his life very soon.
My dick is hard just thinking about it.
“We’ll be in touch,” Ansel says.
I follow his lead as I stand, thanking Lyle for the use of his home while we figured this out.
“Anytime,” he says, walking us out.
The drive home is short, and Ansel and I keep our own counsel during it. The sun is already setting by now, and the day has slipped away.
“I want to talk to Cassidy about all this,” he finally says as we park the SUV.
“Me too,” I murmur. “It’s like time just slipped away, and I didn’t realize how much she was struggling.”
“Cassidy laughs and jokes, but there were signs,” Ansel says. “All the walks, despite our run club meet ups, the solo lunch dates when she doesn’t actually enjoy being alone…”
“Fuck,” I whisper. “You’re right.”
“We’ve seen this shit happen to other packs, where they become more like roommates than lovers. I just never thought it would happen to us.”
Ansel’s words stay with me as we get out of the vehicle, the warm air feeling heavy and suffocating as things begin to fully hit me.
“Hey,” Abbott says from the front door as we trudge up the stairs.
“How is everyone?” I ask tentatively. “Does Cassidy feel sick?”
“Yeah. She’s puking currently,” he says. “She’s no longer on an IV, but she’s camped out on the bathroom floor. It’s a side effect of the goddamned drugs.”
“How are Winter and Bellamy?” Ansel asks, though his feet are moving faster. I’m right on his ass, eager to see how Cass is.
Cassidy is my girl. I want to see her first. I haven’t quite figured out how to feel about our newfound omegas honestly.
“They’re alright and sleeping,” Abbott says, his voice low as he follows us inside. “Riley said they’re less likely to hit their withdrawal symptoms until tomorrow.”
“Where’s Cass?” I growl, my feeling even stronger than before.
“Upstairs,” Abbott sighs. If I’m showing how I feel, then shit is real. I’ve been holding it all in.
I just need to see and hold her. Things could have been so much worse than they are now. Kidnapping, killing, Jesus the things running through my head are not for the faint of heart as I run upstairs with my pack.
Cass is in the en-suite to our bedroom, and I wince as I hear her heaving as she pukes.
“Hey, Precious,” I rasp, walking inside.
“I’m…gross,” she cries, gasping for air before she begins to throw up again.
Everyone is going to die. This drug is fucking awful.
“Go away,” Cassidy wheezes.
“Not happening,” Abbott says, flushing the toilet. He pulls on gloves and cleans up the rim with a bleach wipe, while I drop to my knees behind her.
Ansel wets a cloth and washes her face, before I wrap my arms around our girl to help her lay back to take a break. If she needs to puke again, I’ll get her to the toilet.
“Do you want a shower?” I ask, kissing her temple.
I guess it’s a good thing I can’t smell anything, because the puke doesn’t bother me at all. The only thing I’m upset about is that this was preventable.
“I don’t know if I’m done,” she whispers, hiding her face.
“You have nothing left in your stomach,” Abbott says. “Come brush your teeth and get in the shower with Shi, baby.”
“Ugh,” she groans.
Smirking, I help her up, frowning as I walk her to the sink. Her legs are shaky.