Page 3 of The Packaged Deal
“Thanks, Simon. I'll call you on Sunday.”
“Mum’s going to want to know why you aren’t coming home.”
“Tell her I have work.”
“You tell her,” Simon grumbles.
“Love you, bro.”
“Love you, too.”
Simon hangs up the phone, and I drive towards Darion’s warehouse base. When I pull up in the carpark, Sven is waiting downstairs, his chin hunched down in an oversized jumper. It doesn’t do anything to hide how cut he is. The alpha was a soldier once upon a time, and he hasn’t left it behind him. I’ve seen his workout routine. I needed a mop to clean up the drool that I left behind.
His eyes land on me and stay there. I used to find the way he’d stare at me disconcerting, but now it’s like a heated caress. Every time he does, it chips away at my iron control.
“Adrian,” Sven moves closer, holding out his hand.
I peer down and belatedly take it. His skin is rough, thick with calluses and strength. He’s got no hair; instead, shaving his scalp. And his hazel eyes are crinkled as he smiles at me. It’s disarming and sends flutters deep inside.
“How are you, Doc?”
I sigh, trying hard not to lean into him. I abruptly drop his hand. “Could be better, Sven.”
Sven puts a hand on my back and leads me into the warehouse. I would never tell anyone, but I love the way he touches me. The lingering way his fingers rest on my spine or my hand. God, this is pathetic.
We go into his office, where he hands me a coffee made just the way I like it. I sit down on his couch, and he sits beside me. The room has one window behind the desk and is plain to the point of austere. Nothing on the walls, the concrete floor is bare, his desk has not a sign of personality, and that in and of itself tells you everything about this man. There’s just one oversized burgundy couch with a table in front of it. He puts down no roots, he makes no commitments.
I peer at him out of the corner of my eye. “I need your help.”
“Mmm, tell me more,” Sven almost purrs.
I squeeze my eyes closed, swallow hard, and force myself to recall the helpless girl in the bed. “It’s bad, Sven. There’s an omega who has been beaten half-dead. I might need some help for a few days.”
Sven sits forward, putting his cup on the coffee table. “How bad?”
“She’s been done over really good. Dozens of bruises, possible fractures and breaks. She indicated he didn’t have time to rape her.”
“He’s going to be searching for her because she got away?” Sven nods almost at the same time as I do hesitantly. “Possibly. Working girl?”
“No!” I almost shout. “No, she’s got this innocence about her. This wholesome aura, like she’s not used to this world. Plus, she’s too skinny, she’s clearly not eating enough.”
“Okay, so you think someones going to come for her?”
“I think so. Maybe. Either way, the last thing the refuge needs is trouble, and this omega doesn’t have the ability to fight off an alpha.”
“All right, I'll come with you tomorrow.”
“You, me, Angel, and Hazel.”
Sven holds a finger up. “And Kandi.”
“No-”
“Women who get hurt by men will feel safer with other women,” Sven says with a shrug.
I can’t protest that. “Fair enough. You’re right, of course,” I mutter the words with reluctance.
Sven peers at me. The silence stretches. His expression softens. “But how are you? Really, Addy, you look wrecked. Aren't you sleeping?”