Chapter 24 #2
“To the loo.” Malaki points off in a general direction and I sputter.
“The what?”
“The bathroom, Josie.” Jamie laughs. “You should go check on her.”
I get up to do just that when Cleo’s familiar laugh flies back into the circle. When I look up at her, her smile is wide, and she is arm in arm with one of the members of Scarlet Decay.
I suppress an exasperated groan. How the fuck are they always in the same city as us? I can’t fucking get away from them.
“I’ll be right back.”
I’m not sure why, but my instincts are going haywire as I pass Cleo and head into the crowded club to find Florence.
It surprises me, because Cleo is fine and safe in our secluded section, but Florence is nowhere to be found.
Not knowing Raven’s whereabouts, or if she is even here, is leaving me in shambles.
But then I find the bathroom and realize that my instincts were right.
Raven stands close to Florence, her predatory eyes looking over the omega as she holds out something in front of her.
It’s rectangular, reminding me of a shadow palette, but it’s what’s on top of it that has me rearing back.
Little white lines sit in a perfect parallel across the surface while a rolled-up dollar bill pokes out of her hand in offering.
I see nothing but red.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I spit at her as I storm inside. Florence flinches, putting space between her and the female alpha that she doesn’t know, and I’m grateful for it as I come to stand between them, smoke coming out of my ears.
“I’m just trying to convince the little heiress to have some fun,” Raven taunts, a careless smile playing around her lips. “But you don’t know anything about having fun, do you, Josie?”
“I don’t think putting poison up your nose is a good example of fun,” I hiss back, my blood boiling at her mocking tone.
Raven rolls her eyes and puts the palette on the sink beside her. “Of course not, because perfect angel Josie doesn’t see outside of the box she’s put herself in.”
I don’t have it in me to fight with her. In my eyes, she’s irredeemable, always looking for her next high at someone else’s expense. It’s bizarre; borderline psychotic. And I don’t have time for it.
“Just stay away from her,” I snap, and although I’m talking about Florence, a tiny part of me knows it’s about Cleo, too.
This alpha has had too much influence on the people in my life, and I’ll be damned if she’s going to take another innocent person down with her.
Florence lets me lead her out of the bathroom, her eyes cautious as she watches me seethe until we’re on the other side of the club. I didn’t even take us back to our section because I don’t have it in me to see Raven’s bandmates or the manic look in Cleo’s eyes.
Without needing confirmation, I know she’s on something. She must have taken it from Raven the second she could, and that’s why she returned to the booth with so much energy. I can barely handle the realization when Florence takes my hand, stopping me in my tracks.
“Thank you,” she says, sincerely.
I blink back tears and shake my head. “I’m sorry I made a scene.”
“It’s okay. But I want to let you know, I wouldn’t have accepted them. I’ve seen the effects it can have on someone and I want no part in it.”
Some relief flows through me. “I didn’t necessarily think that you would, but that woman…
I just really hate Raven. And I know hate is a strong word, but it’s true, I hate her.
” I set my jaw, trying to calm myself. “This isn’t the first time I’ve seen her do this.
She gave someone I love the same stuff once and they’ve never been the same since. ”
She replies with a nod, her eyes soft. “My ex had a temper, and it would mostly come out when he was high. Before that, he was kind. Gentle.” She swallows, remnants of her past flashing behind her eyes.
“I’m sorry that alpha did that to you, and to your loved one.
No one deserves to have their life rocked like that. ”
I nod, the sentiment hitting me exactly where it was intended. “I’m sorry, too.”
The tears threaten to spill over as she squeezes my hand that I forgot she was holding. We’re quiet for a few minutes, both of us weirdly somber for being in the middle of a loud nightclub, but then she says, “You really care about them, huh?”
I look at her. “Who?”
“My brother and his pack,” she clarifies. “He told me you were his scent match, but nobody knows. Because of the stupid public persona thing. And the PR stunt.”
All of my scent matches’ faces flash through my mind and I nod. “Yeah. I care about them a lot.”
“Good,” she says firmly. “He deserves that. He needs someone to take care of him the way he takes care of everyone else.”
“He does though. Jamie…”
“Is great,” she finishes for me. “And he loves him, and cares about him, but Jamie can’t take care of him. Not the same way an omega takes care of their prime.”
I flatten my lips, understanding her words. I didn’t grow up in a pack, but I have heard stories about the partnership between a prime and pack omega. The push and pull of dominance and submission, the long debate over who actually leads the pack, when in reality the answer is both.
“I just met you, and you already protected me just like Cyrus would,” she tells me. “It’s like I was looking right at him, but it was you.”
A laugh bubbles out of me. “That sounds trippy.”
She shakes her head, smiling but serious. “It’s divine, isn’t it? Scent matches are fated. There’s nothing crazy about it.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “You’re very insightful.”
“I’m just a hopeless romantic. Emphasis on the hopeless.”
“Now, that feels more realistic. Don’t worry about that. The hopeless part will die with age.”
She bursts out into laughter, and the sound swells something in my chest.
“Thank you, Florence. For being so understanding.”
She grips my hand, smiling. “You can call me Flo.”