Page 24 of The Omega Verse
Not surprising, given Steven’s death. But also, not something I want Cass in the middle of if the band is about to implode.
Which is why I handed my next shift off to a colleague and decided to meet the bus halfway.
All sorts of worst-case scenarios have been plaguing my brain, from finding her drugged out of her mind, to suffering an emotional and psychic breakdown. Because I’ve been looking after Cass’ medical checks for the last three years, and she’s never given the faintest indication she could be a latent omega.
Given the shit I’ve seen in my life, my mind can go to some pretty dark places if I let it. Who’s to say these rockstars haven’t convinced her she’s in heat, just so they can coax her into an orgy?
Cass isn’t a prude, and I know she’s had a few flings. Whatever. I’m glad she knows what she wants, even if the guys she dates aren’t worth the lint in her pockets. But a one-night-stand with some clueless tourist is a lot different to taking on a bunch of self-destructing rockstars.
Not good thoughts to be chewing over as I finally spot the bus. It’s close to midnight and the road is narrow here, the closest light source coming straight off the moon. Just farmer’s paddocks, towering jarrah trees, and a whole lot of soupy darkness.
I hit my high beams and angle the Jeep in the gravel, so there’s no way I can cause a collision. Grabbing my med kit and a tactical torch from the console, I leap out and click it on, activating the SOS mode. I figure the driver either recognises morse code or is curious enough to slow down for a look. I check the road both ways, then walk quickly over to his door, motioning for him to lower the window.
As soon as the tinted glass is down, I raise the torch. Not enough to blind him, but it gives me a good look at his face. He's an alpha in his mid-forties, and even without his crew cut, I’d know he was ex-military.
He clearly gets the same vibe. “Hey, digger. How you doing?”
“It’s captain, if we’re going down that road,” I tell him. “You security for these guys?”
He nods, unperturbed by me pulling rank. “The full team is behind us, but I’m good at a push.”
The message is clear; if I try to start something, he’s ready to engage, and he has backup to even things out. “I don’t plan to push if you open the door. My only interest is in the woman you have on board.”
He nods again, like he’s expecting that. “She’s coming out. Walk around to the door, but remain there. Don’t try to board the bus. We clear?”
I don’t bother answering. If he thinks he can stop me with a firm stare and his bus pass, he’s about to get a rude surprise.
But before the door opens, a motorbike roars up the road behind the bus, fishtailing to a stop. The guy that gets off is dressed in leather, but as soon as he pulls his helmet off, I know who he is. And based on that stupid bike manoeuvre and the swagger as he approaches, I’d say he believes that myth about great music making you immortal.
“Try that shit after some rain and I’ll be giving you a ride to the morgue.”
He glances down at the med kit in my hand. “Paramedic, I take it?”
“Depends on the day.”
He just curls a lip at the comment and nods at the bus. “She’s here of her own free will. We gave her plenty of chances to get off. Even offered to get you on board, but she refused.” I keep a stoic face, but I think he knows he hit a nerve. “She said you were just friends, if you were wondering.”
“There’s no just about it,” I reply, then step up until the only thing between us is his bike helmet and my tactical torch. “I take it you’re the bratty dickhead who told me not to threaten him with a good time?”
His eyes drag over me, but I know the only thing he’s interested in pulling is my chain. Still, he bites his lip suggestively as he says, “I wonder if you got here so fast out of concern for your friend, or because you wanted to take a bite out of me?”
I laugh at him. “I only like good boys, brat. Your kind aren’t worth the trouble.”
He shrugs, but I think he’s amused as he raps his knuckles on the glass. The driver must be waiting for his signal, because the door instantly pops open. But instead of climbing on board, I take a sharp step back, my throat bobbing in need. “Fuck, that’s an omega heat.”
“Yep.” He doesn’t look happy as he rams his helmet back on. “She’s a couple of hours in.”
I don’t ask why he’s out here when it smells like heaven inside. His loss is my gain, if I have anything to do with it.
“My place is half an hour away. It’s small but private. Better than taking her to her apartment, since it’s above the shop.”
“Wherever you want us to drop her off, man,” he says with another shrug, but I can see the tension in his shoulders. He’s not as unaffected as he’s trying to make out. Which pisses me off. Cass isn’t some package he needs to drop on my doorstep.
I grab his arm before he can walk away. “Hey, you know she’s only here because of her brother. She wanted to learn more about him. Dropping her off better not mean cutting her off. She has a right to some answers.”
But he just twists out of my grasp. “She has River’s number. Once we get your address, they can be pen pals for all I care.”
“You’re a dick…” But the rest of the insult dries up in my mouth, because Cass appears in the doorway, and I have the kind of visceral, possessive reaction I thought I trained out of myself years ago.