Page 68 of Believe it or Knot

It was hardly a little mistake. He got high at a movie premier and started a fight with the director, and then tried to fuck his wife, because, and I quote, ‘there were too many dicks in the Cordova pack and not enough pussy.’ We’re lucky it happened in a relatively private part of the party and we were able to keep it out of the media.

Sorrel nods, though, like she understands what he’s gone through. “I get it. I’m-I know they’re going to do the same to me. It’s only a matter of time, right? I mean, look at me and look at you. If they didn’t keep someone like you, they would never-” She chokes a little on the words but forces them past her trembling lips. “They’ll never actually want to keep me.”

Lies. Lies. Lies. All I want to do is keep her. Lock her in our penthouse and make sure she’s fucking safe. Make sure nothing like this will ever happen again. The need to do that is staggering. That I have three people I feel the need to protect, to claim, to keep safe. Gray and Liam and Sorrel. Even Gage has worked his way into that group.

Fuck. Gage. He’s going to be so fucking pissed we let this happen.

Patrick leans forward, getting closer to her, presses his face into hers, and Sorrel lets him. “That’s right,” he hisses at her, keeping his eyes on her. “They’ll never want to keep you.”

That’s when Liam moves. He lunges closer, hand curling around Patrick’s wrist and twisting, keeping the knife well away from our girl’s skin. Patrick cries out, his knees bending as he tries to keep Liam from breaking his wrist.

Sorrel slides down the wall and ducks around the two fighting males, running right to me, like she believes I can keep her safe. And I will. Fuck, I will. My arms close around her tight, her shaking fingers gripping my shirt tight, as my hand finds the back of her head, holding her against me, keeping her from seeing what Liam is doing while Gray watches.

Patrick is on the ground now, his knife discarded as Liam stands over him, one hand in the beta male’s hair, holding him in place.

“Don’t. Ever. Fucking. Touch. My. Beta!” Liam shouts at him, his fist slamming down on Patrick’s face with each word. The man we once dated whimpers and falls to the floor when my omega lets him go, curling into himself as Liam continues his assault. I’ve never seen him like this. Not even with the Stillwell pack, but then, I guess he didn’t see Steven Stillwell threatening Sorrel. He only witnessed the aftermath, the burns on her skin and the way she tried to play it off like it wasn’t a big deal.

The burnt scent rippling off my omega, anger and fear and viciousness, bleeds down the hall and reaches me. Makes my alpha roar to do something, anything that will soothe both him and the girl in my arms. Gray’s jaw ticks with the same need, but both of us stay as we are, letting Liam work this out. It will be the only thing that helps him.

Sorrel’s fingers tighten reflexively when his scent reaches her through the fabric of my shirt, a harsh whine coming from her throat that has me trying to get her closer to me.

“Shh, conejita, baby,” I murmur into her hair. “I’ve got you. We’ve got you. You’re safe.”

She lets out a shuddering breath and presses into me, arms tightening around my waist, face buried in my chest. One of my hands cups the back of her head, holding her in place, telling her with touch that she’s safe.

After a moment, she lifts her head and looks first at me with wet eyes that break my heart and then over at Liam, who’s still standing over Patrick breathing heavy, knuckle split and bloody.

A distressed noise sounds from her, one that pulls Liam’s attention off the beta at his feet and to the one in my arms. “Liam,” she breathes so quietly I hardly hear her, but he must recognize the shape of his name on her lips, because he lurches toward us, one hand stretched out to touch her face. He stops inches from her skin, though, fingers curling as he sees the blood on them.

He tucks his hands behind his back and nuzzles into her hair, her neck, taking deep inhales of her faint lavender scent. Gray watches us, though he stays near the man still on the floor, muttering to himself.

“We need to get her out of here,” he says, hands already reaching for his cell phone. “Where the fuck are the guards?”

“Where are they indeed?” I shake my head as rage filters through me. They never should have let this happen, let a psycho get this close to her. I shouldn’t have let it happen. I should have trusted my instincts that something wasn’t right sooner.

His phone buzzes in his hand and my prime’s brows arch, before he swears viciously, his anger making Sorrel shiver in my arms. Liam kisses her temple as I pull her closer.

“The fucking paparazzi are outside,” Gray spits. At that, our beta jerks in my arms, head shooting up, aqua eyes wide.

“What? They can’t see me like this. They’ll… they’ll tear me apart.” She’s not fucking wrong and don’t I hate that? I’ve never resented our fame before, not really. Liam, Gray and I are adept at handling it. Gray and Liam were raised in the spotlight, and I’m a scary enough motherfucker that no one dares say anything about me, but Sorrel? She’s all sweetness and light, and for some fucking reason, people hate that in a woman. They want to dirty her up a bit. Tear her down.

Gray nods slowly, “They won’t, sweet thing. We’ll get you out safe and sound.” He frowns as he says that, guilt flickering across his face as he realizes we won’t do that, because she’s already fucking hurt. He looks at me. “Apparently, Jones and the others caught wind of the crowd forming outside and went to get them to leave.”

My jaw tightens. It’s no fucking excuse. They should have informed me of the problem outside and then let me decide how to handle it. They never should have taken their fucking eyes off our girl. You shouldn’t have either.

Liam leaves us to duck back down the hall toward the restaurant, then comes back shaking his head. “It’s a shit show out there.”

If he’s saying that, then it must be bad. Really fucking bad.

“Fuck,” Gray curses. His gaze flicks to Sorrel, cowering against my chest, face buried in my shirt, and then back to me. “Rafe, get her out of here.”

I know I should argue. My job is to keep Liam and Gray safe. That’s the entire point of my being in the pack, to act as their bodyguard, a shield between them and anyone who might want to hurt them. But I’ll be that for Sorrel too. And right now this crowd is here because of her, wanting to see who she is, to get a picture of her face to post it online and have people tear her apart, spout off all the reasons she’s not good enough for America’s sweetheart omega and his pack.

I say fuck them. I want the world to know that Sorrel is ours, our beta, ours to protect, that we’ll do whatever we need to do to keep her happy and healthy and safe, but the way she’s trembling in my arms right now tells me it’s not the time or the place to make that declaration.

But it will be soon.

Fuck, I hope it will be soon.

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