Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Charlotte
Waking up to find Lukas missing was one of the more terrifying moments of my life.
He knows better than to run off while I’m asleep.
If we were at home, he could have played with his toys in his room for a few minutes before coming to wake me up, but even then, he’s loud, and our apartment is small.
If he doesn’t come in and snuggle with me, I always wake up to him shouting and playing.
Most mornings, my alarm clock is him giving me kisses and chattering my ear off about how hungry he is. Then I try to sweet-talk him into cuddling me so I can get five more minutes of sleep, which never actually happens, but somehow my exhausted brain tries to convince me it’s possible.
I briefly thought about waking him up last night to warn him not to leave the room, but I was scared he wouldn’t fall back to sleep.
When he was tiny, I’d wake up the second he stretched in his sleep. A small fuss had me sitting straight up when I was dead asleep moments before…
How did I miss him not only climbing out of bed, but also opening and closing the door?
Man, kids are great at making you feel like you’re failing at everything, even when you’re doing the best you can.
He comes into view, playing on the floor of the ostentatious living room, and I finally feel like I can breathe. Except, the face of the man sitting next to him becomes clear, and I stumble over my own feet.
“C-Cormac?”
His head whips up, and he almost looks afraid…of me.
That can’t be right.
“Morning, Mommy,” Lucky says without looking up from his blocks. “Cormac lives here. He got me blocks!”
“Is that right?” I say on autopilot.
How the hell is the guy from the library here?
More than that, he was at the Christmas market…
What kind of setup have I walked myself into? Now I wish I would have landed more than a flesh wound when I accidentally shot Patrick. Having no idea what’s happening leaves me feeling out of control, and I hate it.
Did they bring me here to hand me over to the Jacksonville Demons?
Does that even make sense?
It might if they only wanted to lull me into a false sense of security.
“Hey, kiddo, why don’t you keep playing? I’m going to talk to your mom for a minute.” Cormac puts the yellow block he was holding down by Lucky’s side and pushes to his feet.
“Okay.” Lucky nods. “I need my guys. This where they live now. It’s their tower house!”
“I have a few in the car,” I tell him, talking about his action figures. “I’ll get them for you in just a bit.”
“Okay!” he agrees, continuing to stack blocks.
Cormac pushes up his black-framed glasses, prowling closer. Every time I’ve seen him, he’s been dressed completely differently. Today he’s in a pair of low-slung dark-wash jeans and a Henley. He’s so slender that I swear it makes him seem taller than he actually is.
I’m on the shorter side for an omega, at five-four, so everyone tends to feel tall compared to me, but I have to crane my neck back as he comes to a stop in front of me.
He gently grabs my hand, leading me somewhere. We stop right outside the living room, but I’m still able to peek at Lucky.
“Are you okay?” he asks, keeping his voice low.
I snort.
Is he serious right now?
I’m so far from okay that it’s not even funny. I’ve been in fight-or-flight mode since I woke up, and no amount of trying to convince my system that I’m safe has helped.
“I’m alive,” I say weakly. “I nearly had a heart attack when I woke up and Lukas was missing. He knows better than to run off while I’m asleep.”
“That’s my fault. I should have woken you up, but I thought you could use the rest, and I had nothing better to do.
He was wandering around, opening doors. He popped mine open as I was finishing getting dressed, so I brought him downstairs, and we ate breakfast. He really loves hash browns and bacon.
Oh, and ketchup. He really loves ketchup,” Cormac says, finally taking a breath.
“After that, I dug out one of the toys I picked up last night.” His face twists into a frown, like maybe he didn’t mean to admit that.
“Yeah, about that…” I say, crossing my arms over my chest. “Can you explain what’s happening? I’m trying not to freak out, but I have no idea what’s going on or why you’re here.”
“It looks bad, huh?” His head shakes, and he shoves up his glasses once more.
“Patrick and I had a meeting yesterday with Wilder. He mentioned his girlfriend was attacked, and that she had a friend who might be in danger. Once he said your name and that the job would be protecting her and her son…” He sighs.
“I put the pieces together, but I was also afraid that it would look awful.”
“So you sent your brothers to watch me and stayed away?” I ask, trying to stay calm. “Because I’m not going to lie, seeing a friendly face would have been at least ninety percent less traumatic.”
Even that is an understatement.
I called out of work for the whole week and spent the entire day yesterday peeking out my windows.
It’s winter in Boston.
No one rides bikes, but one circled my apartment building multiple times yesterday. While it could be a coincidence, my gut told me not to risk it. I packed the things we couldn’t live without, and I was in a full-blown spiral as I loaded my SUV.
“I’m sorry,” he says, shaking his head. “I panicked.”
I snort.
I know all about panicking.
I lower my voice, hissing, “I shot your brother, for God’s sake.”
His eyes get huge. “Wait, what?”
“Are you saying you haven’t heard about that?”
“I hadn’t,” he says earnestly. “Wait, which brother? Pat or Mal?”
“Patrick.”
“Huh. Well, it must not have been too bad, because he hasn’t even mentioned it, and he’s a notorious complainer. But don’t feel bad. I’m sure he deserved it for something.”
I scoff.
“Your instincts were clearly spot on the other night,” he says calmly. “But I assure you, you’re safe here.”
“You’re really related to the mob?”
Cormac’s face twists into a frown. “My family does have ties to organized crime, but my brothers and I have cleaned up our act significantly since taking over for our fathers. Mafia families operate much differently than they did fifty years ago. We’re not bad people.
You don’t have anything to fear from us.
” He takes a step forward, pulling me in for an awkward hug.
“I’m so relieved that you’re both safe.”
Jesus.
His earthy, rainy scent hits my nose, and I give in to the urge to melt into his chest. Maybe that makes me weak, but my designation doesn’t do well with stress. I’m overwhelmed, and he’s as close to a friendly face as I’m going to get right now.
I have literally no one.
Even my mom isn’t an option. Not that I know for sure she would turn me away, but I don’t want to lead my trouble to her door.
The people from Hope House sent her a postcard for me when I first left the MC, but they had someone mail it from the West Coast so no one could trace the postmark back to me.
It told her that I loved her, and I was okay.
But the truth is, she might still be angry with me for getting tangled up with Blade in the first place.
There’s honestly no telling how she would react, and it’s not worth the risk.
Hell, she could rat me out.
I really have no idea.
I haven’t had anyone I could count on in so long…
My mind spins as I try to recall the last time that I truly felt safe. It was probably when I was pregnant and staying with Steve and Miles.
Our relationship was that of a deep friendship, but they asked me to stay multiple times.
They were excited about meeting Lucky, and they helped me through his birth and the entire postpartum period.
Leaving them was the second hardest thing I’ve ever done.
They held me together when I was close to giving up, and I’ll forever be grateful for that.
If I thought they could have grown to love me, I would have stayed, but I knew their hearts belonged to their omega who passed away. They also have kids a few years younger than me, and I didn’t want to cause a strain on their relationship with their children.
I haven’t talked to them in years, but I hope they found some older widowed omega. Someone who could accept not being the great love of their lives because she also lost her partner. I think they would be happy if they found a scenario similar to that, and they deserve good things.
Being with them was the last time I was truly able to relax, but it feels good being wrapped up in Cormac’s arms with his rainy scent flooding my nose.
That’s a fallacy, though, isn’t it?
I’ve seen what organized crime does to anyone in its orbit—they get chewed up and spat out. The MC brothers were loyal to a fault to each other, and everyone else was disposable.
Except Patrick, Malachy, and Cormac came to my rescue when I didn’t even know them.
Yeah, as a favor to Lacey and the guy she’s with.
Does it matter why they’re helping me?
The end result is still being under their protection. It’s not like I have anyone else to turn to.
As long as they don’t sell me out, I think the best thing I can do is be polite and grateful. To ride the train for as long as it lasts and regroup once the threat passes.
I rack my brain for any other options but come up with nothing.
My choices are: run now or run later.
These guys are bachelors, at least from what I can see. It won’t take long for them to get tired of dealing with a kid that isn’t theirs. The most I can hope for is that they hold out long enough for whatever threat to be handled.
I need to keep Lucky out of their way and be as nice as possible while doing it. If they didn’t have kitchen staff, I could help cook and do dishes.
Maybe I can play up the whole damsel in distress thing?
They seem like decent enough guys, and alphas are drawn to care for and protect omegas. If I can lean into that, hopefully they’ll have more patience with having a hyper kid running around their house.