Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
HAVOC
Getting my omega to the game was easier than I thought.
She was game to watch the guys play, but was worried about how the crowd would bother her senses.
I gave her pink earplugs to help with the sharp sounds and a mask to help dampen the scents so she could actually enjoy the game.
We should have paid for a box, but I wanted the guys to have the chance to see her.
I couldn’t wear my earplugs, not today. Despite going about our day as what Noa called “normal,” there was a threat we didn’t know about coming after her. Watching her cheer for my mates was worth the loud noises and the crowd pushing and shoving in the arena.
Thorne is on fire tonight, but he always plays like this with Silas. Playing with him lights Thorne up. Silas is good too, normally, but not tonight.
He played for about 10 minutes tonight and then got a 10-minute misconduct and is basically out for the rest of the game. Silas was never as committed to hockey as he was committed to Thorne’s happiness, but he’s never been this bad.
Shooting the goal when the goalie pushed is something he should have known to avoid; something is off about him. I should check in on him, but I have a feeling I know what’s going on, and it is the beautiful woman sitting next to me.
After the game, Noa and I headed home since the guys would take a while getting out of the arena. I take Noa to our home, knowing damn well I’m not taking her to her home.
Otis greets us at the door, something we know we should train him not to do, but let him do anyway.
Noa is all smiles and giggles as she kneels down to love on him.
His tail wags so hard his butt is wagging too.
Making quick work of the kitchen, I grab us some water and a small bowl of sour candies.
After learning they were Noa’s favorite, I made sure to have some on hand.
We settle on the couch, Noa raving about the excitement of the game, when Thorne and Silas walk through the door.
“Noa, we have to talk.” Silas’s voice is low, but I can hear the hope in his voice as he walks into the pack house. He drops his hockey gear at the door, and I try not to stare at it as Silas jumps over the back of the couch and lands in front of Noa, who sits next to me on the couch opposite him.
Thorne, at least, drops his bag in the mudroom where the bag belongs.
Noa lets out a little sigh as her hand finds mine. She squeezes as she looks up at me. Her peach scent souring a tinge.
I warned her this was coming. I didn’t know whether that would increase her anxiety or decrease it. I just wanted to help her.
I do better when I’m prepared. I hope she’s had time to think about Silas’s request, along with the reality of her situation.
This isn’t the first time I’ve dealt with something like this.
The mafia doesn’t have good people, and omegas often get stuck with bond marks and Packs that aren’t good for them.
I hate to think about Noa in that situation. It makes my blood boil, and I have to hold back the growl building in my throat.
“Yeah, I know.” Her eyes are closed as she takes another deep breath, and when they open, they land hot on me. They snap to me like a puzzle piece slotting into place, and I can feel the heat on my cheeks as she stares at me.
I push my scent. Chocolate mixes with peaches and Noa purrs a bit as she leans into me, damn near in my lap, and I have half the nerve to set her against me.
“Who’s doing this to you?” Thorne’s voice is sharp. He leans against the wall, arms crossed, probably trying to rein himself in.
I know who it is. I don’t know his name or who he’s with, but I know it was that guy from the store earlier. He had that metallic scent blocker smell clinging to his skin, which means he hadn’t showered since he trashed Noa’s house.
I’ll find him, though. That’s one thing I’m not worried about. Whether Noa would tell me anything, I’ve seen his face, and I’ve worked with a lot less before.
“I, I didn’t have the, um, I’m not.” She says, and as her words come out, she grips my hand tighter. Her breaths are short and hasty, and I can’t resist pulling her into my lap and purring.
I purred. I’ve never done it before, and the guys try to hide their shock and fail.
They’ve purred for each other, for me, but I couldn’t do it back, despite wanting to.
No matter how hard I tried, and yet here I am, with Noa in my arms, trying my damndest to soothe her.
It came so naturally to me I’m just as shocked as they are.
Maybe more dire situations bring out my purr. Maybe I’m not normal.
“Breathe, sweetheart,” I murmur into her ear, and she sighs into me. The warmth from her choosing me blooms in my chest, and I can’t resist kissing the top of her head.
“I’m not a good omega.” She sobs. I pat her hair as Silas rushes off the couch and kneels before her.
“Noa, no, how could you even—we haven’t known each other for long, but you are the sweetest, kindest, most genuine person we’ve ever met, and that makes you better than good, baby, it makes you the best.”
“Anyone who says otherwise is fucking stupid,” Thorne snips as he pats her head.
“You don’t understand. I don’t cook well or clean. I run a business, I work, and I love it. That doesn’t make a good omega. They told me.”
“Noa, it’s not the 1950s—” Thorne growls, but Silas punches his stomach, which makes him lean forward. Thorne could work on his tone sometimes.
“Those things make you the best omega for us, Noa, don’t you see?” Silas says, waving his hands around, really holding her attention. “We don’t need an omega to do those things. Thorne likes to cook.”
Her gaze moves to Thorne, who nods in agreement.
“And Havoc loves to clean,” I cough at the partial truth because I don’t love to clean, but I’d rather clean than have either of them do it. And I certainly don’t want Noa doing it, thinking that’ll make her a “good” omega.
“Havoc?”
“I do,” I say, and she raises her eyebrows at me. “And I do a good job,” I add for effect. When I was young, I didn’t care for cleanliness, but in prison, they make you keep shit clean, and now I can’t break the habit. Not that I want to, but it drives me crazy.
She chuckles and looks down at her hands. Picking at the sidewall of her polished nails.
“I bet you do.” Her compliment lands right in my chest, and I try not to get, well, too proud at having received praise from my omega.
“See, Noa, we need an omega who is authentically themselves, someone with passion and drive whose smile makes us blush and who cares and loves us as much as we love them.” Silas carries on. Taking her hand in his to stop her nervous picking.
“Do you love— could you love us, all of us, Noa? —”
“Of course I do.” She’s quick with her answer, and then her eyes go wide as she meets each of our eyes. I purr more aggressively against her. She loves us. I should- I should tell her we love her.
“Well then, that makes you the perfect omega, sweetheart, because we love you too,” I say, patting her head and running my hand down her hair, trying to calm her down. I can’t lie, it soothes me too.
“But who told you this? Who made you think you were a bad omega?” Thorne asks. He’s also kneeling so he could look up at her. He mindlessly traces patterns on the back of her hand as he asks the million-dollar question.
“It’s not a good story,” she says, and I give her a squeeze in my arms.
“We can handle it, sweetheart,” I murmur.
“I had a Pack before moving to Nashville,” she says, and we remain quiet as she continues.
She tells us about her upbringing, the maids, the nannies, and the lack of parenting.
How the Fallon Pack interviewed her in her house and then took her the next day.
How they hurt her, and after two years, she escaped.
I’m so glad she’s on my lap. I need her weight in my arms. To ground myself as she tells us about the abuse she endured at the hands of that Pack and her parents.
I can feel my Pack mates getting heated, but they do a good job of shutting the fuck up and letting her talk.
Thorne is biting the inside of his cheek, and Silas is gripping Thorne’s hand.
“Thank you for telling us. I’m so sorry you had to go through that, and I’m so incredibly proud of you,” Silas says, bringing her hand to his lips. “For being so brave and strong and saving yourself.”
“You shouldn’t have had to. But trust, Noa; even if you reject us, for whatever reason, you will never have to save yourself again.
I’m so sorry, baby,” Thorne says. He isn’t looking at me, but I can feel through our bond that he’s raging.
He’s raging, but there is a deep sadness in him, and I know this is crushing them as much as it’s crushing me.
I should have killed that guy in the damn store right when I felt Noa tense up in my arms.
“Will you move in with us?” Silas asks as she stares at him, tears still streaking down her face and making my heart twitch with pain. “No strings, Noa, I would love for you to be our omega, to be ours, but more than that I need you safe, and you’ll be that here, I fucking promise, baby girl.”
Silas is smooth, convincing, and good at getting what he wants. If he wants his omega to move in, he’ll get her to. It’s a dangerous skill, but one I’m grateful for.
Noa is quiet, thinking over Silas’s words, I’m sure. We are skipping so many steps here, and I hate that we can’t properly court her, but the need to have her safe in my arms, under my roof, overpowers the need to do things the right way.
Right and wrong are once again blurred in my life, and I’m in the middle again. I know right and wrong. Working for the mafia was wrong, but having money to feed and take care of myself was good. Accepting blood money was wrong, but I’d never make enough any other way.
Convincing my omega to move in instead of us naturally coming to this point is wrong. But she’s in danger. This isn’t a normal situation. Someone wanted to hurt her—my omega.
She needed to move in, and I wished things were different.
But here I am hoping like hell she’ll say yes.