Oli
OMEGA BUZZ GOSSIP COLUMN
FANS ARE WONDERING IF MEET AND GREETS WILL BE REINSTATED ON THE ALPHA AND OMEGA TOUR AFTER THE ARREST OF MAY THORNTON AND TREVOR DAVIS
July 8th
I ’m jittery, standing outside the hotel, the cold bite of the evening air doing nothing to cool down the firestorm in my chest. My heart’s doing this wild tango, thumping against my ribs like it’s ready to bust out and do its own solo performance. I can’t help it; my hands are all over the place, twisting at the hem of my jacket, then raking through my rose gold waves.
We are standing down a side alley with no cars coming and going to stay out of the main areas.
“Relax,” Riley whispers beside me, her pixie-cut blonde hair a stark contrast against the night sky. She drops a hand on my shoulder, grounding me with that touch, like she always knows how to do. I flash her a grateful smile – where would I be without my right-hand girl?
“Sorry, just…nervous,” I admit, my voice barely above the hum of the bustling street around us.
“Brittney will love you. How could she not?” Riley’s eyes twinkle with that unwavering belief she has in me, the kind that makes mountains feel like molehills.
“Thanks, Ry.” I keep my gaze locked on the road, straining to see headlights that might signal her arrival. “It’s just—”
“Shh, I know.” Riley squeezes my shoulder, and I lean into the comfort. “She’s been through a lot. But she’s coming to the right place. With you.”
“Hope so.” I chew on my bottom lip, a habit when the nerves kick in. “I’ve been thinking I might want to set up some sort of foundation to help omegas.”
“That’s a great idea, ,” Riley agrees.
My alphas huddle nearby, their postures rigid as statues. They’re etched with tension, each coiled like a spring, ready to snap into action at the flicker of a shadow or the rustle of leaves.
“Maybe we should wait inside,” Dax murmurs, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through the cool night air. There’s a fierce kind of loyalty in his eyes.
“Nope,” I quip back with a wink, trying to keep the mood light despite the knot tightening in my gut.
Headlights pierce the darkness at the end of the street, and my heart kicks against my ribs. Riley catches my eye, her blue gaze a steady beacon in the sea of my anxious thoughts.
“Brittney,” I call out, infusing every ounce of warmth I can muster into the name. The door swings open, and there she is.
Brittney steps out of the car tentatively, and my eyes are immediately drawn to the bruises covering her face. Purple and yellow bloom beneath her skin, and I feel my chest tighten at the sight.
“Hey there,” I say as I approach, keeping my steps slow and deliberate. I don’t want to spook her, not with those bruises painting her vulnerability in stark contrast. My smile’s as gentle and meant to soothe, not startle. “I’m so glad you made it.”
Brittney’s lashes flutter like the wings of a nervous sparrow, her gaze flitting from one alpha to the next. They’re lined up, a protective barricade, but I bet they look more like a row of danger to her. Her eyes finally meet mine, and there’s a silent conversation in that glance—a plea for something resembling normal in all this chaos.
“Hi…” Her voice is a thread of sound, barely there, like the last note of a song fading into silence. She nods, a dip of her chin that’s almost imperceptible, her hands twisting in the fabric of her skirt.
“Come on inside,” I gesture behind me, and Riley runs forward to hold the door for her. Jack, Dax, Aiden, and Chase go to the trunk of the car and pull out the one bag Brittney brought with her.
It doesn’t look like much, so I make a mental note to get her some clothes and necessities.
“I don’t know what I’m doing here,” she confesses. “I can’t just follow you around on tour for no reason.”
“Listen,” I start, leaning in just a touch so my words are only for her. “We’re in Europe for another month and a half. The tour is going to be wild, loud, and amazing.” I paint the picture bright and bold, hoping to entice a smile from her. “And I want you to be part of it.”
Her brows knit together, confusion mingling with the faintest trace of interest. It’s like watching someone peek out from behind the curtains.
“Join us,” I urge, trying to channel every bit of sunshine I can muster. “You can work on the tour with Riley, earn your own money, and be independent. Or, you can travel with us and not work. It’s completely up to you.” I sweep my arm out, encompassing the tour. “And we will keep you safe. I’ll put a whole security team on you while you’re here.”
“Security?” Her voice is a fragile leaf caught in a breeze, and I can practically see the questions swirling in her cautious gaze.
“Top-notch, all muscle and loyalty. They’ll be your personal knights in shining… well, whatever they wear these days.” I give her a wink, trying to keep the mood buoyant despite the gravity of what I’m offering.
The corners of her mouth twitch, and I glimpse the girl she might be without the bruises and the wariness.
“Really?” she whispers, and there’s a spark in her eyes now, a tiny flame that I’m determined to fan into a full-blown inferno of confidence and healing.
“Absolutely.” My grin’s all promise and no pretense. “Consider it an all-access pass to finding your feet again. On your terms, Brittney. No pressure, just… possibilities.”
I hold her gaze, steady and sure, and I see it—the decision teetering on the edge of her next breath. “You think about it.”
“I will,” she promises.
“You remember Riley, right?” I ask, nudging Riley forward with a tilt of my head. She’s been a silent pillar all this time, and now it’s her turn to shine. Her pixie-cut hair glinting under the streetlights and those trust-me blue eyes make her the poster child for reliability. “She set you up with a hotel room here with a nest. It’s safe, snug, and just a stone’s throw away from where we’re staying.” I watch as Riley’s smile blooms. “Isn’t that right?”
“Absolutely,” Riley chimes in, her voice a melody of comfort. “It’s all yours if you want it. No strings attached, no expectations. Just a place to lay your head and maybe… I dunno, join us for some late-night ice cream therapy?” Her grin grows playfully mischievous, and even I feel the warmth of her invitation.
“Thank you,” Brittney murmurs, the words barely above a whisper but heavy with meaning. A careful, grateful curve tugs at the corner of her lips—an almost smile that feels like a victory.
“Anytime,” I respond, feeling the buzz of connection.
“Thank you.” She looks tired, and I think it’s time to get her settled.
Extending my hand, I flash Brittney my most reassuring smile. “C’mon, let’s get you settled in,” I say, the offer hanging between us like a lifeline. “We have another friend, Cate, who is here visiting and wants to meet you too.”
Her fingers, slender and uncertain, slip into mine. I feel her tentative grip, a silent pledge, and something warm unfurls inside me.
“Thank you,” she murmurs again, her voice barely louder than the rustle of leaves in a gentle breeze. The hope twinkling in her bruised eyes hits me right in the feels. She’s been through hell, but here she stands, ready to rise from the ashes. And I’ll be damned if I don’t play my part in her phoenix song.
“Hey, no need for thanks,” I reply with a wink. “We omegas gotta have each other’s backs, right?”
“Right,” she echoes, a spark igniting in her gaze as our connection solidifies.
With her by my side, we stride toward the hotel, our footsteps in harmony. Riley falls into step next to us, her presence a constant comfort, and I can practically hear the gears turning in her head, already plotting out our new arrival’s care schedule. The alphas encircle us, their stances relaxed yet vigilant, exuding a silent strength that ripples through the air.
“Welcome to the tour life,” I tell Brittney, bumping her shoulder playfully. “It’s chaotic, loud, and absolutely the best kind of madness.”
“Sounds… exciting,” she says, the corner of her mouth lifting in the shadow of a grin.
“Exciting doesn’t even begin to cover it,” Riley chimes in, her blue eyes dancing with mischief. “Just wait until you see on stage. She sets the world on fire.”
“Oh please,” I scoff. “I just do my thing and hope nobody throws tomatoes.”
“Tomatoes are so last century,” Brittney teases back, and my heart does a little victory dance at the sound of her laughter.
As we reach the hotel room, I feel the burden of responsibility settle on my shoulders—an oddly comforting heaviness. Brittney’s trust in us, in this newfound family, fills the space around us, knitting us closer together. Her steps grow more confident, her chin lifted a fraction higher as the sensation of belonging wraps around her like a melody.