Chapter 31
BIANCA
The actress on the television is standing in the rain, trying to decide between two men who are both very much alive and answering their phones. I keep looking at the front window.
Rain blurs the sliver of Sycamore Lane between the curtains, but every set of headlights still pulls me forward until I’m perched on the edge of the couch again, chewing at the corner of my thumbnail.
I’ve already bitten the other one down far enough to hurt.
Freddie catches my hand before I can start on this one and keeps it in his lap.
Winston’s house is down the street, close enough that I could run there barefoot in a few minutes if my body didn’t feel packed with hot dirt. I keep looking for Mom’s car, even though she was still being questioned at the last update.
Winston said it was a peanut allergy, but that seems awfully convenient.
Another sedan creeps past. Freddie’s hand disappears under the coffee table to grab the gun Winston handed him, but Megan barely looks up from her phone. “He lives three doors down. I saw him leave earlier.”
The car pulls into its driveway.
She’s good.
The man who manufactured me is dead keeps playing on repeat in my head between the cramps and my worry for the guys.
I can’t even enjoy the one good thing buried inside this whole fucking mess.
The marks burn under my oversized T-shirt. I press my fingers against each one and silently beg for them to come home to me.
“They’re okay,” he says, winding one of my scrunchies around his fingers again.
He moves closer until our thighs touch beneath the blanket. A cramp winds low through my stomach. I count to thirty before it lets go.
“Another one?” Megan asks. I nod.
Her phone lights her face again, like it does every few minutes when she checks, then goes black. She flings it on the couch with annoyance.
I lay my hand over hers, and she twines our fingers together, the grip almost painful. I squeeze.
When a pair of headlights moves across the ceiling, we’re all on our feet in an instant.
The room tilts when I stand, and Freddie catches my waist while Megan has her gun out and pointed at the floor.
“It’s me!” Clara calls through the door with a nervous chuckle. “Winston sent Ben with me, so don’t shoot.”
Megan checks the side window before she unlocks anything. Clara slips inside with her raincoat pulled over her stomach and a pharmacy bag in one hand. Ben waits on the porch.
“Sit down for me.” Clara takes my temperature and pulse while I tell her about the cramps. Her stomach presses lightly against my knee when she leans in.
“Matt’s friend from the hospital was able to get this for you.” Clara opens the pharmacy bag and removes a foil packet with two tablets inside. “It’s contraception and it starts working right away. Take both.”
“These might make you nauseous.” Clara sets the pills in my palm. “If you have heavy bleeding or trouble breathing, you call me.”
I pop them in my mouth and swallow dry. Freddie rushes to bring me water. “Thanks, Clara.”
She squeezes my shoulder and stands. “If you need anything, you call us. Okay?”
She gives me a hug, and I watch from the window as she leaves.
By the time the movie ends, my bones feel too heavy to keep upright. The cramps are getting worse, but I’m not in the mood to try and relieve them. I make it upstairs with Freddie one step behind me while Megan starts another movie.
My bedroom looks smaller than it did when I lived here. The bed takes up too much of the wall. I lie down without changing and make Freddie get in beside me.
“Closer,” I practically beg, even though he’s already touching me.
He moves until there isn’t room for another breath between us, his whole body wrapped around mine. His scent settles over the room, but my body won’t stop hunting for them.
“Wake me up if you hear from them.”
I close my eyes as another cramp pulls tight. I must make some kind of sound, because Freddie rubs his palm against my stomach. It’s warm and soothing. Better than a heating pad.
When I wake, my knees are drawn up and the pain has fangs.
It tears through my pelvis and locks every muscle along my spine. I cry out, and Freddie sits up, immediately alert.
“Hey. Talk to me, Bianca.”
“It hurts.”
My skin is clammy. The room is saturated with my sweet and desperate scent. The cramp loosens, but the emptiness it leaves behind is worse. Freddie’s scent floods the room in response, and my body demands his weight and the knot I don’t have yet.
I push my hips back against him.
Freddie tenses. “Is that what you want?”
“Yes.” Tears spring to my eyes because I need it that bad.
He gets me onto my side. “You took both pills?”
“Yes. You were right there. Freddie, please.”
I struggle to get the sleep shorts off and let out a frustrated curse before Freddie takes over. Another cramp bends me into a pretzel while he gets them down my legs. He strips only what he has to and comes back to the bed. He arranges himself behind me and presses between my legs.
“This okay, baby?” I nod, and he pushes into me, my body already open for him. Freddie swears into my hair when a cramp has me squeezing him tight.
He moves slowly until the pressure reaches the place that has been screaming. Sweet, sweet relief.
Stupid omega body.
His movements stay soft and lazy. He takes turns rubbing my clit and stroking my back. He moves my braid over my shoulder and kisses every part of me he can reach. “Do you want me to knot you, Bianca?”
“Yes,” I whisper, letting out an embarrassing whine when he starts to expand inside me.
I feel sweaty and miserable instead of sexy, but his cock still jerks inside me when his knot locks, and the warmth spilling deep finally shuts the cramps up.
I fall asleep on his knot thinking about what a shitty mate I am to be getting fucked right now instead of out looking for them.
There’s a knock on my bedroom door, and I glance at the clock. It’s almost two in the morning. Megan knocks again, then says, “Knock knock. Coming in.”
Our bodies are covered, but I realize Freddie is still buried deep inside me as he stirs behind me.
“Hey, sorry to barge in?—”
“Did they call?”
Megan’s face lights up. “They’re okay. Matt’s bringing them here now.” She sets a plate of fruit and cheese on my nightstand. “I brought you snacks, just in case you’re hungry.”
I annihilate everything on the plate while Freddie sleeps soundly wrapped around me.
Less than an hour later, pain spikes through the bond, but it isn’t mine.
They’re close. Really close.
The front door slams into the wall downstairs.
A man shouts, another voice crashes over his, and then Megan screams Ezra’s name.
The last syllable breaks into a sob. Wet shoes squeak on the floor.
Winston is trying to tell somebody to slow the fuck down, but the first heavy steps are already hitting the stairs.
Gotta be Owen.
I throw the covers off us and shove at Freddie. “They’re here.”
He jerks awake and catches me around the middle before I can rip us apart. His knot is still solid inside me, and the pain when I pull brings tears to my eyes.
“Wait, we’re still—Bianca, whoa, baby. Calm down.”
“I need to see them.”
Someone thumps into the wall on the landing hard enough to rattle the banister, and the steps keep coming - too fast, uneven, one set dragging behind the others.
Their scents reach the bedroom. Rain and sweat and old wood, too much blood, Owen’s furious energy rolling through all of it. The bond surges toward them so hard my body tightens around Freddie in a death grip, and he swears into the back of my neck while I pull myself higher against the pillows.
Owen reaches the doorway first.
One eye is swollen nearly shut. Dried blood has pulled tight beneath his nose and over his mouth. He looks at me in the bed and freezes before crossing the room.
“Oh, thank fuck.” He drops beside the bed, the impact hard enough to rattle the knickknacks on my shelves. “Princess. Jesus fucking Christ. I’ve been losing my goddamn mind.”
I catch his battered face and kiss whatever parts of him I can reach without hurting him - his swollen cheek, his brow, the corner of his mouth. He takes every one with his hand locked in my hair, breathing me in between broken curses.
His nose drags down my throat, over the marks beneath my shirt, and he lifts the blanket and lets out a snarl. “What the fuck, Freddie? You knotted her bare?”
Freddie’s body firms behind mine, his hand spreading low over my stomach. “Dude, relax. Clara found contraception. I’m not a complete moron.”
“Owen, look at me.” I twist my fingers into the wet front of his shirt and pull until he does. “What happened?”
He grinds his teeth while the scent of his anger keeps flooding the room, but his hand comes back to my face, almost painfully careful against my damp skin. “Are you sure about the no condom thing?”
“It’s supposed to work right away.”
Weller reaches the doorway with a limp. His leg isn’t taking his full weight. He has a hand braced on the frame. “Bianca.” He hobbles to the bed, dropping to his knees and pressing his face against my stomach.
I reach for him, pulling him closer as he breathes me in so hard his exhale shudders. The hand braced against the mattress is shaking, so I grab it. His fingers lock around mine, and the trembling eases.
Tristan appears next with a hand clamped over his ribs. Beneath the blood and grime is the sour trace of vomit. I have never wanted that combination of scents near me until now.
“Tris.” My throat closes around everything else, but I manage to say, “You’re all okay.” Tears track down my face, and for once, they’re from happiness.
I hold out my hand, and he crosses the room like it hurts. No sweetheart. No smart-ass comment. When he lowers himself beside Weller, I push his wet hair off his forehead, and his eyes close. He turns his face into my palm.
“Never stop touching me.”
Megan makes a raw, furious sound in the hall. “You freaking asshole. You’re not allowed to disappear like that! That’s not how we do things.”
Ezra’s warm rumble is too low for me to catch, and then she starts crying. I look past the men crowding my bed and find them in the doorway. He has both arms around her, and he’s favoring one leg. Blood has dried along his temple, but he’s standing. He nods at me, smiling.
Everyone is here.
I drag in one full breath. My body turns greedy before the cramps even start again. Owen looks feral, and Weller grips the mattress. Tristan presses his mouth to his mark through my shirt, his breath hot and uneven. The desire to be as close to all of them as humanly possible is strong.
“We need to wash this off before we get into bed with you,” Weller says, already trying to push himself upright.
“No.” I grab his soaked shirt. “Nobody leaves this room.”
“Darling, there’s blood?—”
“I don’t care. No one leaves.”
“We’ll keep watch,” Ezra says from the doorway. “Winston and Clara are in the hall. They’re giving you a minute.”
When Freddie’s knot begins to ease, every small loss of pressure makes my body panic and tighten around him. The rush of warm fluid and the sudden emptiness wrench a sound out of me.
Winston knocks once on the open door and comes in with Clara before Owen has a chance to take Freddie’s place. Owen drags the blanket up over me with one hand while they check what they can without separating us - pupils, breathing, and the worst of the bleeding.
The next cramp twists low and hard. I grab Owen’s shirt, and he moves toward me until Winston’s shoulder blocks him.
“This is super awkward,” I say. “Please hurry?”
“Nothing looks immediately life-threatening,” Winston says. “We’ll come back tomorrow and examine everyone properly.”
“Great. Out.”
Clara closes the medical bag. “If anything changes, call us. Tristan, if you vomit again, that means you.”
“Understood,” Tristan says.
I point at the door. “Thank you. Love you. Please leave.”
The door barely closes behind them before Owen climbs onto the mattress.
I crawl into his lap as carefully as I can, but he drags me the last few inches and buries his face in my neck.
“I couldn’t get to you,” he says into my skin. His whole body is shaking now. “I didn’t know where you were...”
I press my mouth to his temple and hold him through the thought he can’t finish. The next cramp is already building. I help him work his pants off while the others settle around us. Tristan leans over to kiss me, and when I catch the back of his neck, he makes a broken sound into my mouth.
After that, I lose large chunks of time. The heat drags me under, and every time I surface, I reach for them again. And every time I reach, I find them.