Page 168 of G.O.D.S Omnibus

“Everyone with injuries head down to the morgue. Blayne, Summer, and Sinclair are going to clean you up. Jimmie is going to take notes. Everyone else in the living room,” Brennan demands, leaving no room for arguments.

I wait, staring at the door and rubbing at the hollow feeling in my chest.

They have to be okay.

I leap forward when Boston strides through the door, followed by Kai, Davis, and Trace.

“You’re okay,” I cry.

“Of course we’re okay, Star,” Trace says, reaching out and pulling me closer.

“You’re bleeding.” I reach up to touch his split brow. He hisses but doesn’t stop me. I look to Boston. “Any news on the others?”

He shakes his head.

Trace is sent downstairs as Brennan tries to argue with Boston to get his leg looked at, but he refuses, insisting that it’s just a scratch. It is not a scratch—a bullet grazed his damn leg.

Ziyon is the next to walk through the door with a handful of his security. Brennan greets him and takes him into the living room.

“I didn’t even see him the entire fucking time. There is something sketchy about him,” Kai grumbles next to me.

I end up in the living room seated on the couch and staring out the window, waiting and hoping each car that pulls in is them. Other teams have turned up, strangers that I don’t know. Brennan has someone writing the names of anyone who didn’t make it, doing head counts. But still I wait, the background noise becoming a blur. My eyes grow heavy, yet I refuse to sleep.

A loud noise overhead has me blinking my eyes and I’m surrounded by darkness. I must have fallen asleep. I sit up and look around. The room has emptied, but the noise is persistent. Brennan walks past and notices that I’m awake.

“What’s that noise?” I ask.

“A helicopter,” he replies.

I spring from the couch and run past him, pulling the front doors open. People file out behind me, but I ignore them. Creed is walking across the front lawn, Chester just behind him with Laughn thrown over his shoulder. I crumble as my chest collapses.He has to be okay.Creed sees me go down and runs the distance between us, lifting me to my feet and wrapping me in his arms.

“It’s okay, Tenshi. He’ll be fine. He lost a bit of blood and is weak, but we both know he’s too damn stubborn to die.”

I nod as he talks. Chester keeps walking, and I turn as Creed releases me so I can follow right behind him. He takes Laughn down to the morgue–which is now empty–and lays him down on the cold bench. Creed pulls things out of cupboards, and Chester cuts Laughn’s shirt and pants off. He has random bullet wounds scattered across his body. I sit in silence, watching as they work to get Laughn sewn back together. After the final stitch is inplace, they look over at me. I move closer and stand by his side, reaching out and taking his hand in mine.

He squeezes my hand. “Baby,” he whisper-croaks.

“Didn’t you knock him out?” I ask incredulously.

Creed laughs. “Nope, that asshole nearly got us killed. He can suffer the consequences.”

In the end, they give him a sedative, and move him upstairs and into his bed. I crawl in next to him, being careful of his injuries, and fall asleep by his side.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Jolie

Two weeks have passed since that night, and our lives have somewhat returned to normal. The guys have forced me to go back to school since we have our exams this week. I don’t see why it matters, but they insist a certificate of education is important. It’s weird going into school now. Boston, Case, Davis, and Marlow are back too. According to Brennan, and even Ziyon, they need to complete high school to move on to the next stage of training at Olympia. They’ve been studying while they were away and only need to pass their exams. Laughn starts back on Monday, now that he’s officially off bed rest.

A lot has happened in these two weeks.

Lawyers are finalising everything to do with Olympia.

Mr Z’s body was found—Laughn, Creed, and Chester barely left him recognisable. The words “torn limb from limb” were used a few times. I try not to think about it.

Betty is still missing, and I know that as much as Jimmie is putting on a brave face, he’s worried about her. No one knows what her involvement was, but it’s only a matter of time—she can’t hide forever. Her tracking device was shut off before she came to my party, which makes finding her more difficult.

I roll over, unable to just continue laying here. Trace is beside me and has his arm thrown over his face. Every night someone is in my bed; they haven’t left me alone.

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