Chapter 11
Chapter eleven
Are we gonna get spankings?
Theo
Roman answers after the third ring, and by his clipped greeting, I already know I’m about to ruin his already shitty night.
I look over at the female Harrison just knocked out.
It’s not in our natures to hurt females, but the fact we were babysitting the asshole now dead on the floor in the alley with her as the only witness—yeah, we can’t risk her screaming and alerting more people.
Not until we figure out what the hell happened in the last ten minutes.
“You better be calling with good news.” Roman’s tone sounds tired. No doubt from putting up with his father's childish games. I stay quiet for a moment as I watch Harrison search the blonde-haired woman for ID. He glances up at me with a shake of his head. Fuck. “Theo?”
Letting out a deep sigh, I finally answer him. “Things didn’t go as planned tonight.” I hear an exhausted sigh answer mine. Deciding not to sugarcoat anything, I go for ripping off the Band-Aid. “Miguel’s dead.”
Silence.
Then more silence.
I almost pull my phone back to check the screen to see if we got disconnected.
I’m stopped by the sudden low, threatening growl that comes through the line.
Even being an Alpha myself, I grind my teeth at the sound.
“What do you mean he is dead?” These words are spoken calmly, like he thinks he might have misheard me but no less of a warning.
“Like we just found him with what looks like a knife wound to the neck. It also appears like someone was clawing at his chest before being interrupted.” My eyes flash back to the girl.
She smells like blood currently, and I’m not close enough to get any other scents.
Her hands and arms are painted red, like she might have tried to save him.
There is something somewhat familiar about her features from where I stand, but I can’t place my finger on it.
Roman grinds his teeth through the phone.
No doubt trying to figure out our next moves.
This isn’t a good look for us since Miguel’s father is a bigger hitter with the cartel than Roman’s father.
We were supposed to make sure he had a good time, got his dick wet, and stayed out of trouble. I think we failed that job.
“Witnesses?” My eyes keep drifting back to the woman.
A part of me almost wants to lie, say no because I know what Roman is going to say.
But there is another part of me that is urging me to go to her.
Which is absolutely insane because I’ve never wanted a woman like this.
Well, not until Grim, but I still haven’t figured her out yet.
I’ve gone back to the club a few times this week, but no one will give me any information on her, and Harris is not all that inclined to help me stalk the woman, but he just needs five minutes with her, and he would understand.
Knowing I can’t lie to Rome because Harris will just tell him anyway, I answer.
“Yes. The woman he no doubt planned to fuck was in the alley. She was curled up against the wall when we found her. She is covered in blood, like she might have tried to save him, but the moment she heard and saw us, she started freaking out. And no, she wasn’t able to give us much information before H knocked her out to stop her screaming.
” Rome lets out another deep sigh, and I wait for our next orders.
“Call the clean-up crew. Don’t tell anyone about the girl.
Not yet. Bring her back to the house. We will need to get her side of the story.
Have Harrison start watching video to see if anyone stood out as watching him that we could have missed.
I’ll call my father and his. Just be ready for the shitstorm about to come our way over this.
” Without anything else being said, he hangs up.
The moment I lower the phone, Harrison is there trying to read my reaction. I give away nothing. “How bad was it? Are we gonna get spankings?” I roll my eyes at his words and nod to Miguel’s body.
“We need the clean-up crew from him. Rome said to keep her quiet and to bring her back with us. He wants her take on things. He is going to break the news to Shaw and Cruz.” I glance down at my watch.
“They might even call him back. He should have been close to the house by now, so we will see. He also wants you to start going over security videos and see if we somehow missed anything. Maybe check nearby cameras?”
“Yeah, I figured. I can start that once I get back to my office. I’ll prep the body if you want to grab her and load her up.
She should be out for a while. Hopefully until we get her back.
I don’t need her waking up in the car and freaking out thinking she is being kidnapped.
” Harrison moves to Miguel’s body and pulls out his phone, typing away. Probably calling in the cleanup crew.
“I’m pretty sure this is kidnapping regardless,” I call out but head for the blonde.
Her body is limp, but she looks like she is peacefully sleeping.
Leaning down, I take a deep inhale. It’s a clean, natural scent, but something sweeter is mixed in.
Beta? But… wait. I know this scent. I stare at the woman’s face for a long moment, going through my memory of where I’ve smelled it.
Ever so gently I swipe away hair covering half the woman’s face.
The moment the hair is moved to the side, it clicks.
Grim. I blink a few times, wondering if I’m mistaken.
Maybe wishful thinking, but nope. I have no doubt in my mind that this is the woman I’ve been trying to hunt down for the last week.
Glancing over my shoulder, I eye Harrison.
Does he know?
Should I tell him?
What was she doing here?
How is she involved?
The questions swirl around in my head, but I don’t do the logical thing and tell Harrison I know her. No. I’ve been searching for my Little Reaper for days, and now that I’ve found her, she’s not leaving me. Not when I have even more questions than I did before.
Knowing I don’t have time to linger, I slide my arm beneath her knees and another around her back, lifting her slowly so I don’t jostle her.
She’s lighter than I expect, her soft weight settling against my chest like she was made to fit there.
Her head tips toward my shoulder, and I breathe her in without meaning to again: clean skin, faint sweetness, and something familiar enough to twist low in my gut.
It’s an odd reaction, and it screams at me to focus on it, but now is not the time.
I linger for half a second longer than I should, grounding myself in the steady rise and fall of her breath.
Then I move. Carrying her to the car, careful with every step, I open the back door, lowering her onto the seat. Once I have her positioned, I ease her legs in, making sure her head is supported. I go to step away when instinct curls sharp and possessive in my chest. An Alpha reflex.
Mine to guard.
Mine to keep safe.
I shrug off my jacket and drape it over her without thinking, the thick fabric swallowing her small frame. My scent clings to it unmistakably, and I watch as it settles around her like a promise. A mark no one else can miss. It’s not a bite, not yet, but it’s enough. At least for now.
My fingers linger for a beat, brushing the collar into place, breathing her in one last time before I straighten and close the door. The click echoes final and sure. Claimed, for now.
You’re not disappearing this time, Little Reaper.
The drive home felt longer than usual. I tried to get Harrison to drive, but he explained it would be better if I did in case the woman woke up mid-drive.
Reading between the vague lines, I knew what he meant.
He figured if she woke up and saw the big, scarred, scary guy, she would freak out more.
I’m not sure why, but I didn’t argue, not wanting to give away that I was one hundred percent sure I knew this woman and she was not afraid of me in the slightest.
Rome texted us on our drive letting us know he informed Miguel’s father and his. They are calling for a full report by tomorrow. Which doesn’t give us much time to figure out what the hell actually happened. Even though I have a good feeling about the who.
Pulling up to the house, I throw the car into park.
Glancing over at Harrison, I see him studying my Little Reaper.
His brows furrow like he is trying to figure something out.
Tilting his head, he takes a deep inhale, his eyes widening just barely before he turns toward me.
“She smells…familiar. Yet her scent is throwing me off.” His surprise fades to confusion again.
“Her scent is clearly Beta, but there is something else to it. Do you smell it?” I don’t bother lying.
The truth will come out soon, so I nod, turning back to my woman with an odd sense of calm overtaking me.
It’s an odd feeling but welcomed all the same.
“I’ll figure it out later. Why don’t you take her up to the spare room and keep an eye on her.
Let me know the minute she wakes up. I need to start combing through security cameras to figure out what the fuck happened in the alley and just how much shit we are in.
” Harrison slides out of the car with a nod to the house, giving me a second to bask in the sweet scent of my girl.
After getting my fix, like some druggie, I step out, moving to the back to sweep up grime in my arms. She’s still unconscious from the hit over the head, so I make a mental note to grab a first-aid kit.
Keeping my moments slow and steady, I move to the front door Harrison left open for me.
Bypassing the living room, dining room, and kitchen, I move to the stairs at the back of the house and up to the second floor.
All of our bedrooms are up here, including the spare.
We had once planned to gift an Omega, but we all knew we were undeserving of one.
Balancing Grim in one arm, I twist the knob and push open the door.
The room is dark and somewhat cold at the moment.
Even as I flip the switch and the bright neon bulb above flashes on, revealing just how neglected this room has been.
I step into the room, and it feels unfinished, like someone stopped caring halfway through.
I suppose we did, when we all decided we weren’t worthy enough for an Omega. Not with what we do for a living.
The walls are a muted pale pink, meant to soothe an Omega’s senses.
They’re bare, unbroken by art or shelves or anything that suggests a person lives here.
Not like the rest of the rooms. No windows.
No light except the overhead bulb that hums faintly, casting everything in a flat glow.
The bed sits dead center, neatly made, sheets tight and untouched for some time.
Beside it, there is a single nightstand with nothing on it. No lamp. No clutter.
Just empty, chilled space everywhere.
I carry her across the threshold, and the door shuts behind us, the sound dull and final.
Final for her at least. The air is stale, but I have a feeling it will soon be consumed by Grim’s soft, intoxicating one.
I lower her onto the mattress, and even that small movement feels loud in a room.
There’s nowhere for the eye to land, nowhere to escape to, no corners worth studying, no distractions.
Just pink walls, a bed, a nightstand, and the quiet pressing in.
I have no doubt when she wakes, she will be pissed off at this predicament.
Something inside me almost purrs at the thought of seeing my Little Reaper all rallied up.
I can picture it now, like a wild animal trapped in a corner.
My lips tip up at that. Not wanting to miss the show when it comes time, I quickly lock the door, then quietly move to a shadowed corner and place myself on the floor.
Within minutes, Grim begins to stir. I hear a low moan escaping her plump lips that I know should make me hard because it’s one of pain, but fuck.
That sound is pure ecstasy to my ears. From my position, I can see her eyelashes flutter open, blinking to clear the haze.
I’m holding my breath now. Watching, waiting.
Her hand comes up to touch her head, fingers coming away red with blood. Groaning, she closes her eyes.
“What the fuck did those assholes do to me?” she growls, and I smile.
My Little Reaper is perfect.