Oli
OMEGA BUZZ GOSSIP COLUMN
BUSSES ARRIVE IN NEW ORLEANS FOR THE ALPHA AND OMEGA TOUR
June 4th
T he bus stops, and not a second later, Jack has his phone out, reading a text.
“They’re here,” Jack tells us, stepping towards the door.
“I like how prompt they are,” Chase says, following him.
The door hisses open, and I’m immediately hit with an imposing wall of muscle. There’s no scent coming off them, and I know they’re using scent blockers. They stand like carved statues from a block of pure testosterone. The alpha security team is a sight that makes me feel safer instantly.
“We are the Phoenix Pack Security team,” the leader—a mountain of a man with shoulders you could land a plane on—says in a voice deep enough to rattle my bones. He offers me a curt nod, his expression all business, eyes hidden behind mirrored shades. “I’m Saint.”
“Nice to meet you,” I reply, hopping down the steps.
Despite how handsome these alphas are, I feel nothing for them. I have my very own pack of four alphas who consume all my affection. There’s a set of twins and three others.
“Ms. Hart,” another one says, stepping forward. His eyes gleam as he gives me a small, respectful bow. “We’re here to make the rest of your tour as safe and comfortable as possible.”
Each of them introduces themselves, and I commit their names to memory, but it is going to be impossible for me to tell the twins apart; they’re identical.
“Call me , please.”
They nod before turning to my alphas. I appreciate that they addressed me first.
Each of my guys introduces themselves, shaking their hands.
Dax hangs back, arms folded across his chest, his focus sweeping over the security team with a critical eye. But even he can’t hide the twitch of approval on his face.
The leader addresses Jack. “You said you want us with and you four at all times, correct?”
They’re finalizing the details of the guard duty when Trevor texts me to meet in the venue’s dressing room to discuss the tour.
I relay the message, and the five of us, plus our new security, go together.
Chase’s green eyes flicker with the subtle fire that once made hearts flutter before mine snagged his attention for good. “Let’s make sure Trevor sees things our way.”
“Trevor is our manager. He’s been acting like an ass,” Aiden tells the Phoenix Pack.
The alphas exchange glances, their stances shifting into something even more protective, if possible.
The door to the meeting room swings open decisively, and I immediately sense a shift in the atmosphere.
Trevor is already seated on the couch, his posture rigid, and his knuckles white where they grip a pen. His frown deepens when he sees our security team filing in behind us.
“Who’s this?” Trevor snaps.
I pause at the venom in his voice.
Jack responds, “Our new private security team. They’ll be with us at all times.”
“Let me get this straight,” Trevor begins without preamble, his voice infused with incredulity as he stands up, “You went behind my back and added these alphas to my tour?”
His tour?
I lean against the cool surface of the wall, crossing my arms over my chest. “They’re here because we need them, Trev,” I say, keeping my tone light but firm. “After what happened to me, can you really say it’s unnecessary?”
Trevor’s gaze flits to me, then back to the imposing figures standing at ease yet alert around the room. “, this is a rock tour, not some military operation. We have protocols in place for your safety.”
Chase’s laugh is cold and terrifying. “Those protocols didn’t keep my mate safe. She was choked out under the stage and would have died!”
“She wouldn’t have died,” Trevor says with too much certainty and an air of indifference.
“This is our choice and has nothing to do with you,” Dax points out, his voice smooth like whiskey but carrying an edge that suggests he isn’t here to play games. The others nod in agreement, their expressions grave.
Jack cuts in, stepping forward, his presence commanding. “After the scare with , we’re not taking any chances. This is non-negotiable, Trevor.”
Aiden remains silent, but his eyes are watchful, missing nothing, always calculating. The decision is unanimous among us.
“Fine,” Trevor concedes after a tense pause, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “What did the doctor say about your throat?”
I shrink back, nervous to reveal this.
Jack saves me. “ can’t sing until her throat is healed.”
The silence that follows is deafening. I watch Trevor closely, noting the twitch in his jaw and how his eyes flicker with an emotion I can’t quite place. Sadness? Frustration? Or something else?
“, I…” Trevor begins, then stops. He clears his throat, his demeanor shifting subtly. There’s a slight curl to his lip that doesn’t sit right with me—a hint of satisfaction that’s wildly out of tune with the rest of his somber act. I can sense it no matter how much he tries to hide it.
“Are you happy about this?” Chase blurts out, reading the room with the same unease that’s crawling up my spine.
“Happy? No, of course not,” Trevor retorts too quickly, his expression faltering for a split second before he regains his composure. But the falter was there. I saw it, and now it’s etched into my memory. “We will need to find a way to continue the tour without you, .”
“Excuse me?” I croak out. “This is my tour!”
“How could we possibly do that?” Chase snaps.
“Well, we could bring May back to cover for while she heals. She was the original lead singer for The Edge,” Trevor says calmly as if he isn’t dropping a massive bomb on us.
I feel the tension coil tighter in the room, a tangible force that makes my skin prickle with unease.
“Absolutely not!” Aiden snaps, his voice a low growl that reverberates deep in his chest.
“We won’t be performing with anyone but !” Chase shouts.
“Bringing her back isn’t even an option,” Dax chimes in, his fingers drumming an irritated rhythm on the tabletop. “We’ve moved past that mess. She was trouble from the start, and the label has dropped her.”
“Come on, Trevor,” Jack is glaring at him. “You were never a fan of May. What’s changed?”
Chase runs a hand through his tousled hair, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Is there something you’re not telling us?” he probes, his question piercing the veil of Trevor’s poker face.
We know they’re together, but Trevor doesn’t know that yet.
Trevor’s lips press into a thin line, his scrutiny flicking between us as if weighing his options. It’s a look that speaks volumes—there’s more at play here than just filling my temporarily vacant spot.
“It’s not happening,” Jack says with all his alpha dominance behind it.
I can feel the waves of frustration rolling off Dax and Aiden as they flank Jack. Their expressions have hardened into matching scowls. The room is full of tension that is crushing me.
Chase still has his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his jaw set in firm opposition.
Trevor’s frown deepens, the lines etched on his face seeming more pronounced than ever. “May is a professional; we need someone to step in immediately. I don’t see why—”
“Because it feels like you’re trying to replace ,” Chase interrupts, his voice lower but no less intense, his eyes flashing with a protective fire. “And that’s not happening. Not now, not ever.”
A small voice inside me starts to whisper doubts I can’t quite silence.
Why does Trevor seem almost relieved at my misfortune? Is he pushing so hard for May because he’s sleeping with her?
“?” Trevor turns his focus to me, searching for an ally. However, all he sees is the growing suspicion reflected in my eyes.
“Sorry, Trevor, but this isn’t adding up,” I finally speak up, my voice softer than usual but carrying a weight that surprises even me.
Trevor pushes back from the table, his chair scraping against the floor like nails on a chalkboard. “You’re being unreasonable. This is about the tour, the fans, the—”
“It’s about trust, Trevor,” I interrupt, feeling the burn of passion for our music and bond igniting within me. “And right now, I’m not sure we can trust your judgment.”
“Is there something you’re not telling us, Trevor?” Aiden asks, tilting his head to the side curiously. “Because it’s looking mighty suspicious from where I’m sitting.”
“Nothing’s hidden,” Trevor retorts, but his gaze flickers away from mine for a split second, and that’s all I need to see. Guilt is pouring off him.
“Then prove it,” Chase states simply. “Drop the May idea, and let’s focus on getting well and back on stage.”
“Where she belongs,” Dax finishes, his voice a low rumble of support.
There’s a beat of silence before Trevor sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fine. We’ll discuss alternatives,” he concedes, though I can tell by the tightness of his shoulders that he’s not pleased.
But as Trevor gathers his papers and excuses himself, saying he needs to make some calls, that little niggle of doubt becomes a gnawing hole. I watch him leave, noting the slight spring in his step that seems out of place. The puzzle pieces are shifting, clicking into place, forming a picture I’m not sure I want to see.
At least I have my pack and my protectors, and right now, the way they’re standing up for me makes my heart swell with gratitude.
“Thanks for having my back,” I say with a smile, feeling a rush of warmth from the solidarity surrounding me. “We need to talk about Trevor. This isn’t right.”
“Agreed,” Jack says, looking around. “In private. Too many people come in and out of the dressing room.”
And we go to do just that.