Page 11 of Nothing is Free

Dez: Do you plan on sleeping at Deviant? Or are you coming home any time soon?

Me: Just finished my last tattoo. Cleaning up now. Why would you think I was sleeping at Deviant tonight?

I drop my phone on the drafting table, hurrying to finish the last bit of cleaning for the night. It took a few hours without a break, but I managed to finish Trey’s tattoo in one sitting. Hopefully his little surprise will put a smile on Mercy’s face and distract her from the fact that we’ve received no news about her best friend yet. My phone chimes again, making me huff out a laugh.

“I knew I wasn’t getting off that easily,” I say as I toss the rag I’m using in the trash and grab my phone.

Dez: You didn’t answer my question. You’ve been up and out of the penthouse before anyone can see your face. Avoidance is not your M.O. So, I ask again. Are you coming home?

I read Dez’s message and roll my eyes. The man always needs a concise answer. The art of assuming is not his strongest suit. But I guess that’s why he is good at what he does.

Me: How’s Omari? Any news?

As I type out my reply, I can almost see the annoyed look on his face at my attempt to deflect. Do I want to go home? Yes. But do I want to go home knowing my pack, my family is not whole? Absolutely not. My questions are genuine though. I haven’t heard from anyone all day.

Dez: I guess you’re going to have to come home and find out.

I smirk.

Me: You’re an asshole. Be home in twenty.

Dez: Roger that.

Twenty minutes later, entering the penthouse, I come face to face with Dez’s second in command, Quincy. The massive Alpha stands a few feet taller than me, dressed in tactical gear and my heart leaps in my chest as I look over his shoulders to see if Dez is dressed the same. Are they leaving? Have they found my Cariña?

Quincy shifts out of my way, allowing me to pass and enter the penthouse. I turn, only to see him walking out thedoor. “You leaving?” I ask, wondering if I’ve missed their usual group briefing before they head out on a mission.

“Ah, yeah. I need to get home. I need to check in with Faith, make sure she’s okay.” He reaches up and rubs the back of his neck, almost nervously when I lift my brow in question. Is that a blush?

“Faith is at your home?” I ask, well, because I am nosey. I mean, it’s none of my business, but hey, distraction and all that.

“No. Yes. No, she feels safer with us. So. . .” he lets his words trail off as I nod in understanding.

“I get it.” I hold my hands up to stop him from saying more. “None of my business. I just saw the gear and thought. . .well, I thought you all were heading out,” I say, gesturing to his uniform. He blows out a breath, clearly uncomfortable about talking more about Faith.

“Malcolm is on it. As soon as he finds anything we will be on the move. I have a hunch that he’s close. I dropped in to tell Dez, but I think you might want to?—”

A loud moan drifts toward us from further inside the house and Quincy’s eyes widen as he backs out of the door. “Well, that’s my cue.” He inclines his head, giving me a knowing smirk, then leaves just as the warm sugary scent of my Omega hits my nose.

I follow the sounds of pleasure down the entry hall and am hit with memories of returning home in the past to moments just like this. My cock comes to life instantly at the scents and sounds of my Omega and my brothers. Memories of how we were before Freeya came into our pack, our lives. But as I let my feet guide me forward, walking past the floor to ceiling windows of our living room, up the stairs to the second floor and down the hall, it all feels wrong. I pause in front of Avion’s office doorway, the sight before me wouldusually have me stripping off my clothes, eager to join them. Again, the feeling of wrongness washes over me as I stand there firmly in place.

“Fuck, Mon Cœur, I needed this. I needed you.” Avion’s soft words rush out of him in a strained groan as runs his hand down Omari’s spine, slamming into him from behind. Omari moans as he grips the ends of Avion’s desk, arms spread wide, he lays flat against the mahogany wood, head turned toward me, his eyes closed. I let my eyes take in the room until I find Dez, sitting in a leather wingback chair, leaning forward, elbows braced on his knees watching intently.

Suddenly, I’m overcome with emotions I know are misplaced but I can’t help them pushing to the surface. Guilt. Anger. Accusation? How can they be enjoying themselves when. . .she. . .she is out there somewhere suffering. The moment I think it, I immediately reel it in. Instinctively, I know what this is. This is an act of reconnecting, of reassurance, love for our Omega and the bond we have with him. This by no mean negates Avion’s or Dez’s feelings for Freeya. My feelings are irrational, but I can’t shake them. I lean against the door and close my eyes against the onslaught of my emotions.

“Cum for me, Omega. Cum for me, Mon Cœur,” Avion commands, followed by the sounds of slapping and the shouts of Omari’s release. Soft grunts and pleas for more fall from his lips and I can’t help myself, I open my eyes as Dez stands, crosses the room and crushes his lips to Omari’s. Usually, I’m hard as a rock for the scene playing out right in front of me. I’m feeling disconnected and it has everything to do with the lack of completeness inside of me. My heart isn’t in it and it’s a damn shame. I love Omari and I need him just as bad, but my legs refuse to move.

Before this goes any further, I walk into the room and close the door behind me. Avion pulls out of Omari, hand wrapped around his cock as he squeezes his knot at the base. Like I thought. . .not that type of fucking. His slate-gray suit pants are disheveled, white dress shirt is wrinkled; the sleeves rolled up at the elbows. His thick curly black hair looks as if he’s been pulling at it for hours and Avi’s honey brown eyes look as tired as mine. I wonder how long he’s been in his office, in the same suit, drinking more than sleeping. Avion is nothing if not immaculate, even when he’s fucking.

Grabbing a handkerchief from his discarded suit coat, he turns away from us and cleans himself up, putting his still very erect dick away. Dez breaks his kiss with Omari, then helps him off the desk, pulling up his pants, before turning and tugging him toward the adjoining bathroom. Omari’s eyes are on me as he crosses the room, the weight of his gaze threatens to bring me to my knees. I feel his pain, I’ve felt it mirror my own all day, it thrums through our bond, yet here he is, giving of himself willingly because he loves us and needs us all. When Omari passes me, he stops and looks up at me, searching my eyes, for what I’m not sure. Does he feel how detached I am right now, how lost I am. Do Avion and Dez?

“Vic?” Omari calls my name while reaching up and cupping the side of my face with his palm. The sound of my name on his lips, his touch, his nearness, abruptly yanks me back down to earth. My eyes lock on to his beautiful greens, and the threads of our love for one another knits a piece of my soul back together. The tether that connects me to him pulls tight, and just like that, I’m breathing once more. No longer adrift, I sink into his touch, I turn my face and kiss the center of his hand.

“Te amo, mi corazón siempre,”I love you, my heart,always, I whisper, leaning in and brushing my lips against his before Dez huffs and interrupts our moment. The impatient dick that he is.

“Let me take care of him, then you can love on him all you want. We’ve a lot to talk about,” he says playfully as he begins to pull Omari into the bathroom. I watch them go until the door closes behind them. I quickly adjust my straining cock in my pants. Oh, so now you deem it appropriate to come out and play. I make a vow then and there to never pull away again. No matter what else happens from here on out, this is my family and no distraction in the world will take me away from them. Not even Deviant. I can’t run and hide when things become too much. I need to be present, especially now.

“You good?” Avion asks as he flops down in his desk chair, eyeing me knowingly.

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