CHAPTER SIX - HOG #2
Colt just shrugs, his gaze drifting towards the attic, and I nudge him down the stairs.
As we troop into the living area, I ponder Colt’s words.
It’s his usual drunken rambling, although there’s some truth under the delirium.
If you claim a thing, they become your responsibility by default.
Do I want to claim Birdie? As I take a seat in the armchair closest to the door, the question doesn’t sit well.
Not because I’m unsure about the answer, but because it seems almost redundant to ask it in the first place.
You can’t claim a thing that already owns you.
And I know she’s mine, the same way I knew the first rifle I ever held was mine. It belonged there, like an extension of my limb. Down in my bones, in whatever part of my soul that makes me more than just a lump of flesh, it felt right.
She owns me, and I’m more convinced with every breath I inhale that’s coated with her scent.
“Don’t call her a mouse,” I growl as Colt flops face-first on the couch, sniffing the cushions unhappily. “If Birdie is anything, she’s a hawk.”
“Because hogs and hawks are such great mates?”
“We’re both hunters,” I tell him, my fingers stroking the hilt of the bowie knife in my belt. “Keep pushing her, and you’ll find out.”
“Enough,” Axel snaps, “we take this call and then we get Birdie out of the attic and into the spare room.”
The spare room that was Charlie’s until he decided the lighting was better in the attic.
I shake my head, letting my beast bleed into my eyes. I don’t say no to Axel often, but on this issue, I’m not gonna fall into line. “She needs a place she can feel safe and that has to be a long way from the goddamn basement.”
The judgment in my tone is obvious, and Axel’s face hardens. “It was you who visited her down there, wasn’t it? You take advantage of her, Hog?”
Colt’s lashes flutter, his mouth stretched into a surprised O, but I ignore him, keeping my glare on our pack alpha. Omegas might give me a wide berth, but I’ve never laid hands on anyone who didn’t want it. “Get your damn nose out of the air and smell what’s right in front of you.”
“What the hell does that mean?” He looks genuinely confused, and I’d feel sorry for him if I didn’t want to put his head through a damn wall.
But then his face settles back into its familiar stubborn mask.
“Stay away from her, Hog. She’s damaged, and this pack has taken all the hits we can survive. ”
That stings, but I just shrug. “She gets the attic. I’m not moving on that.”
“Fine.” He grits his teeth and then grabs the laptop on the coffee table. “We need to dial in.”
Colt pushes himself off the sofa, remarkably fast for a guy with more rum than blood in his veins. “I’m just gonna…”
He jerks a thumb over his shoulder, but he’s not asking for permission, and Axel just grunts as he slinks towards the stairs.
“Colt!” I call, pulling my knife free and holding it up. “Go sniffing where you’re not wanted and I’ll carve a few extra notches in your belt.”
Colt frowns and peels up his ragged shirt, displaying his six pack. “I don’t wear a belt.”
“Exactly.” I shoot Axel a pointed look. “Consent or bleed.”
“Pains in the ass,” he mutters, but the general suddenly flickers into view, looking like a pale thumb behind his big mahogany desk. Axel snaps to attention and I watch Booth look between us with interest.
“General,” Axel says politely. “Thanks for making the time to join us.”
“Of course, Captain,” Booth responds, giving me a smug look. “You seem to be in better spirits, Sergeant.”
“I can smell a mission in the air,” I tell him, earning a sideways glance from Axel. “Regarding the omega you sent our way, Axel said you found her on the streets. What city?”
His brows crimp, his smile slipping. “You’d have to ask Lieutenant Peak.
He’s across those details.” I barely keep the sneer off my face.
The general’s lap dog is a petty little tyrant and would swallow a pound of paperclips before he’d share any intel with a lowly sergeant.
Booth leans forward, clearly curious in spite of himself. “Why do you ask, Sergeant?”
“Because she’s hurt,” I reply shortly. “A lot of old wounds, but there are fresh ones, too. I want to know how much you know about them.”
“What exactly are you insinuating, Sergeant?”
“Is your intel that they’re all from her time on the street?” Axel moves uneasily beside me, but I ignore him. These are questions he should be asking, after all. “It’s not like a pimp to mark up his property like that.”
“We don’t know.” The general pauses, but that curious glint is back in his eyes. “What did she say?”
“Birdie doesn’t talk much,” Axel says, and despite his wooden tone, I can feel a pulse of remorse down our pack bond. “We’re taking things slow.”
The general grunts, but he’s fighting another smug smile as he nods at Axel. “You’re looking out for her, of course. I knew your pack would do the right thing.”
“She’s safe now,” I say bluntly before he can start handing out the medals. “Can't say the same for whoever was looking out for her before, though.”
My tone wipes the smile right off Booth’s face. “What do you mean by that, Sergeant?”
“I mean that someone did a fucked-up job of protecting her. Maybe I should talk to them. See if they need their duties as an alpha spelled out to them.”
“As far as I know, she was making do on her own,” the general replies with a frown. “Just do the right thing by her for Charlie. But don't go looking for a fight, Sergeant. I need your focus on your next mission.”
“Some things keep, General.” I shrug, but I’m thinking about the knife on my hip, and he probably knows it. “But some things have a way of getting my attention.” Hauling myself to my feet, I give him a pointed look. “I’ve got weapons to check.”