Page 56 of When She Needs Them Most

Ugh.

Stairs.

I snag a water and nod. “Yeah, I think they’re in the nest.”

The urge to check on the little omega outweighs my distaste for more physical activity, and I trudge up the back stairs. Just as I make it to the top, Chelsea comes to a stop in front of me.

Lincoln is behind her, and something about the lazy smile on his face makes me suspicious.

“Kase,” the little omega says, lighting up when she spots me. “I almost barreled right into you.”

My hand falls to her hip, and I grin as I lean down to kiss her cheek. My nostrils flare, breathing in her sugar cookie and vanilla scent. It now holds hints of Lincoln’s beachy scent, which I would normally attribute to them being intimate, but something is different.

“Did the two of you bond?” I choke out before I can stop myself.

Lincoln snorts, and my eyes meet Chelsea’s as she nods.

“We did,” she whispers, planting a hand on my chest.

“Congratulations,” I manage to say.

My mind races. That means she’s stuck with us, which is incredible, but I really wanted that first bite. Not that it matters. It’s just that I saw her first.

“Thank you.” A soft smile crosses her face, and her stomach growls loudly enough that all three of us hear it.

“Dinner is being plated as we speak.” I snag her hand and wait for her to step down before glaring at Lincoln. I don’t begrudge him happiness, but I’m definitely going to punch him in the throat for stealing that first bite from me.

I don’t care if it’s illogical. He owes me that.

Arden handles the news better than I do. Of course, he does. He’s always calm, cool, and collected. If he is bothered, he’ll take it out on a job. Pick up an old cold case file, study the crime scene photos and witness testimony until he forms a profile. Then he’ll go hunting to find out if the perp is still alive.

I could try to do a little cyber solving, but that could lead to an obsession, and at the moment, I don’t want to be focused on anything but Chelsea and the baby.

She eats more at dinner than I’ve seen her eat at one sitting, but just as I’m ramping up to ask when she’s moving in, she excuses herself to the restroom. She makes it clear she has to catch up on some work, so she won’t be back down for a few hours.

Arden, Lincoln, and I settle in the living room. Sky bounds off toward the stairs, like she’s planning to keep Chelsea company.

I need something to focus on outside of strangling my packmate and oldest friend with my bare hands. I’m right back to that jealous twelve-year-old boy, who didn’t want Linc anywhere near my family. He’s charismatic, and I’ve always been weird. I was afraid they’d like him more than me. Hell, Cordelia had the biggest crush on him foryears, but Linc is five years older than she is. He never paid her an ounce of attention. She met two of her pack in high school, and that was the end of her crush.

I could probably stab Linc, and if I plan the location right, Chelsea wouldn’t know until he was all healed.

Right.

Retrain that line of thoughts.

“Do we have a plan for the younger Raynor?” I ask, tossing my feet up on the coffee table.

“Easton mentioned a bit on the phone, but admittedly, I was distracted,” Arden says, a soft smile tipping at his lips. “Raynor isn’t the main problem. It’s the bookie he’s tangled up with. Sammy Seven Toes or something equally ridiculous. He’s got ties to the Manzos.” He glances around, like he’s looking for recognition, but he won’t find any. Though I’m pretty good with computers, I don’t keep up with the mob families. Hesighs and eventually goes on. “The Manzos stepped in during the power vacuum that occurred after the Andrettis lost Boston. The Manzo patriarch was taken out in that clusterfuck that went down in New York with the Barretts, but his son Titus is entrepreneurial. He made a play for Boston and DC, which most families know to stay away from, simply because of the political ramifications.”

“Right, so, Sammy Whatever-the-Fuck is the problem?” Lincoln asks, pacing near the TV. “We take him out. Problem solved. It’s not like we don’t have five teams on speed dial that could handle it within forty-eight hours, and that’s including travel time.”

“That’s just asking to irritate the Manzo patriarch,” Arden says thoughtfully. “And gain the interest of whatever resources they have at their disposal.”

“Maybe, but don’t pretend we can’t pay double to make it look like an accident or natural causes.” Lincoln sighs. “If I was willing to leave Chelsea, I’d volunteer to handle it myself, but my system won’t let me be away from her right now.” He pauses, planting his hands on his hips. “We should take out Raynor, too, while we’re at it. That way, Chelsea never has to worry about any of them again. A heart attack or car accident? If they set it up properly, who’s gonna know?” His head whips up, and his line of sight moves to the hallway with the stairwell.

Sky bounds into the room, and my stomach drops as Chelsea follows her around the corner.

“I’m sorry. Did you just insinuate that you could have my daughter’s uncle murdered?” Chelsea asks in a shrill tone that I’ve never heard her use.

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