Chapter 14 #2
“What the hell?” Asher hisses, but Reed is quick to cut him off. Turning to me, he sighs.
“We’re not…It's not like that,” Reed says and I turn my stormy gaze to him.
“Not like what?”
“We’re not like a gang.”
“Then what is it like?”
“We protect the neighborhood.”
“While also selling them weed,” Asher pipes in, and I cross my arms, holding stock still waiting for Reed to explain.
“Clean weed. It's one of our missions. People smoke, who cares? I smoke, Neven smokes, Ash smokes—”
“I smoke too. Well, I ingest. Is that the same?” I ask, and Neven shrugs. “I don’t have an issue with weed or selling it. It’s just… like, you should have told me.”
Reed’s hand on my hip tightens. “Would it have changed anything?” Worry is laced all over his face, and suddenly I feel guilty for putting it there.
They still should have told me, but…
“No,” I answer honestly. It wouldn’t have, even before finding out they are my scent matches. I take his hand, bring it to my lips, and kiss his knuckles over a black swirl tattoo he has there. His whole body sags like a deflating balloon.
“What about the fighting, though?” I ask, thinking of Reed’s run-in with Mike and eyeing Asher now, who shrugs.
“We’re not the only club around,” Asher says. “Especially right now. Others try to test boundaries, and we have to defend ourselves.”
“‘Not like a gang,’ huh?” I chuckle, letting the revelation of their actual jobs wash over me.
I’m dating motorcycle club members. Plural. Wow. What are the chances?
Asher shoves the remainder of his cookie into his mouth right as he adds, “Red is the President,” with the casual air of someone sharing the date.
“Reed!” I yell, slapping his arm. “Is that why you are in the business program?"
“I’m not the President. My dad is. I have to be voted in, whenever the vote takes place.”
“So I'm dating various members of the…”
“Mighnight Wolves,” Neven supplies with a smile on his face and I nod.
Midnight Wolves. That’s stinking adorable. “So, soon-to-be President, a computer genius, and…”
“I work in the Dispensary,” Asher says and nods toward Neven, who takes his water bottle back and sips from it. Touching his lips to where mine just did. A heat floods to my cheeks that absolutely should not be there at this moment.
“Cool,” I say, turning to my cookie.
Is it cool? Is it dangerous? Am I not taking this seriously enough?
“‘Cool’?” Reed echoes.
Another tattoo-clad, motorcycle-riding face pops into my head. Knowing that the universe has a sense of humor, I had a theory that needed confirming.
I swipe some stray crumbs off the table, watching them fall instead of meeting anyone’s eyes. “Can I ask… Do you have a member named S—or, well, would you know his real name?”
Neven tilts his head back and forth. “We might. Tell us who?”
“Who do we need to fuck up?” Reed asks, and I shake my head.
“No! Not like that. I, um, I met this guy,” I say, leaving out the bit about being scent matches, “at the laundromat and I… we hit it off.” When I look back up, Asher angles to meet my gaze and raises both eyebrows. I nod. “His name is Soren.”
“Oh, Fox,” Reed says, instantly knowing who I’m talking about. “He’s my… friend.”
“Are you more than friends? Why did you say it like that?” I ask and Asher leans in, his eyes pinned on Reed, who shakes his head.
“No, just friends. We grew up close. He’s a beta who was also… an outcast of sorts.”
Also an outcast.
Reed’s an omega. A male omega in a motorcycle club. Full of macho men, probably. And he’s the President’s son. Damn.
As Soren’s name hangs in the air, I look at each of the men sitting here at this table with me. Neven’s caramel scent, Reed's pancakes, Asher’s pomegranate, Soren’s cinnamon.
It’s almost like a lock clicks into place as the last piece of my puzzle reveals itself.
This is my Pack. My scent matches. The missing pieces of my puzzle.
Two alphas, two omegas, and a beta. They are who I’m supposed to be with. My gaze drops to the table while my heart pounds in my chest. My omega is wild inside me. She thrashes as my throat threatens to close with nerves as I think about what this all means.
Reed rubs his chest, and I wonder if they feel it too. They must, right?
Maybe… maybe we can all be together.
Reed starts huffing, taking deeper breaths as he stares out the window. Asher watches him, his gaze intense, and Neven is reaching over to grab my hand. I let him. Accepting the comfort as I work up the nerve to break the silence with my secret.
“With Soren… he’s my…” The words lodge in my throat. I look to Neven, whose eyes are staring at me but also through me.
Is he okay?
I try again. “You all—”
Reed’s growl cuts me off.
My skin flames. Sweat dews on my forehead and I feel it prickling along my neck. I dab at it as I try to finish my sentence, but something is off, something is wrong, and I'm so confused.
“No way.” Reed’s brown eyes shoot to each of us. He snatches his arm away from me, and I dart out of the booth like my ass is on fire. My heart beats frantically even as it drops through my stomach and down to my feet.
He’s so angry.
Did he really not know? Not have an inkling?
He grips the table, silent as whatever thoughts he’s having run through his mind.
“...are my scent matches.” The words scrape against my tongue. They should’ve been beautiful words.
But Reed’s eyes glass over and his scent singes, burned and acrid in my nose. “We’re not. I’m not. You must be confused.” His words spit out like fire, raking across my skin like a hot iron. This omega, this man who threw punches because an alpha dared suggest I cut back on my cookies…
How can he be this angry?
I shake my head. “You don’t feel it?”
Reed can’t even look at me.
My heart shatters.
Neven, from the edge of his side of the booth, slides his hand up my thigh, not too high, but enough to ground me. He doesn't trace mindless patterns like Reed would. He just holds me firm, and I hold myself back from crawling into his lap to soothe my aching heart.
“Man, calm down,” Neven says, but Reed snaps his eyes to him.
“Just because you’re an alpha doesn’t mean you get to tell me what to do.”
“It’s not like that—”
“It’ll always be. It’s how we’re… made. I’ll never be a normal omega. Don't you understand that?” He turns to me and I’m standing at the end of the table. Gripping and twisting my fingers. My nerves are frazzled. “I can’t have a Pack.”
His words sear through my heart.
Our scents mix in the air, four parts creating an almost perfect whole. There is no denying what we are. They are supposed to be mine, as I am supposed to be theirs. This is supposed to be a joyous moment.
And it's not.
The story my parents told me a thousand times never went like this. They were never mad, or upset. My dads immediately loved my mom. They literally whisked her away and…
And of course I don’t get that. I knew I wouldn’t.
Reed shakes his head again. “No. I can’t have scent matches.”
My eyes water, burning with tears I refuse to let fall. “Why?”
My heart aches as his rejection hits me like a volley of arrows. What’s so bad about scent matches? Is it the club? His presidential status? Asher and Neven don’t seem to be so disappointed.
Is it me?
Reed shakes his head again, lets out a dark sound that could’ve been a scoff, making me flinch. “I can’t. Not now. Not…”
He flies from the booth, blows past me, and storms out of the shop without another word.