Page 38 of Shades of Scars

“Scarlett.” I call out just before she can disappear on me again, and the tone of her name on my lips forces her to pause. I remain quiet until she glances back at me, and our eyes meet. “You’re already everything I’ve ever wanted or needed. Never forget that.”

Tears shimmer in her gorgeous eyes, but she doesn’t respond. Her gaze flicks to Apollo when he joins me on my side of the desk, and that same pain shudders over her expression when she meets his gaze, too. She only hesitates for anotherthirty seconds or so, before she slips out of my office, leaving me feeling empty and defeated.

A heavy sigh escapes me, but then Apollo claps me on the shoulder in a show of support. “She just needs time to adjust, brother. She’ll get there. You know as well as I do that she’s only holding herself back because of the threat of her past.” I grunt, but that’s the only response I can give him on that front.

Bending over, I pull my pants back up and tuck my still semi-hard cock away. It’s hard to ignore how my entire office smells like us, her slick still pooled on the edge of my desk where she’d been planted while I’d fucked her. Apollo watches me move around the hunk of wood until I settle down in my chair and pull my laptop close to me, opening the lid so I can get to work with a renewed sense of determination.

“I know that look, man.” My pack brother adds as he takes a seat in the chair I’d used to finger fuck our omega earlier. I glance at him to spot him eyeballing the puddle of Scarlett’s slick like he’s tempted to lick it up, and I growl in warning to garner his attention.

“Leave it. That’s mine.” For a second, he looks like he’s going to ignore me. He isn’t Caito, though. Apollo doesn’t enjoy pushing my buttons the way my oldest pack brother does. If he’d been here instead of him, he’d never have let Scarlett leave the way she had.

Which reminds me…

Reaching for my phone sitting on the far right hand side of my desk, I pull up my thread to the asshole in question and shoot off a quick text.

Me:You should be more observant. A certain pretty little omega gave you the slip for nearly an hour, and you never even noticed.

Sending it off, I wait, but it only takes him a second to read it and respond.

Caito:I know exactly where my omega is. I’m following her home right now. You’re going to explain to me later why she’s sobbing while driving. Don’t think I won’t send her your body parts to pay tribute and show her just how loyal I can really be.

Fuck. I slam the device down, not bothering to text back. Apollo arches a brow at me when I finally open my eyes again to look at him over the lip of my laptop lid. I’m not upset that Caito just threatened to send me in pieces through the mail to our omega in retribution for upsetting her. I’m fucking pissed at myself for not stopping her from leaving in the first place.

“Caito will see our omega home safe.” I say by way of explanation, but he doesn’t look the least bit convinced that that’s the only thing bothering me.

“What are you doing?” He finally asks when I return my attention to my computer.

“Hunting.” I have some assholes to find and annihilate before I can fully convince my sweet omega that she’s all mine. Priority number fucking one.

23

Scarlett

Caito gave me his number when I came home fromRaven, so I manage to text him Friday morning to let him know I wasn’t feeling good so he can reschedule the interview I was supposed to have with the police. I don’t think he believed my story, considering he’d been in my apartment foyer when I’d gotten home and had seen my tears and most likely smelled my shame.

It’s now a week later, and I don’t think I can get away with ignoring everything and everyone for much longer. “Seriously, Scar. You come home smelling like sex and alpha one day, and then hole up here for the next week like a hermit because why? Are you scared of commitment or something?” Kate is apparently done waiting for me to resurface from my room long enough for a proper conversation.

I’m leaning back in my nest, surrounded by the scents of my alphas thanks to the clothing they’ve sent over. I have a pencil gripped tight in my hand as if I’m preparing to use it as a weapon, instead of finishing the piece I’ve been working on splashed across the sketchbook in my lap.

Obviously performing a night or two at Raven is out of the question, and I’m too damn reclusive to leave my apartment foranything else, so I’ve resorted back to selling pieces on my online gallery.

Of course, Wren has purchased every single one I’ve uploaded over the last week for three times the amount I’d originally posted them for. Within seconds of uploading a new one, a sneaky Mr. Madden has snatched it up and left a little love note for me in return. If I really want to, I can totally move me and Kate into an apartment ten times more elaborate than even the guys’ penthouse with the amount of money I’ve made off of half a dozen works.

“Go away, Kate.” I grumble and look back down at the half finished piece splayed across my lap. I don’t know why I’m working on it when I have other important things to finish, but I can’t seem to help myself. It’s a memory etched into my brain that I need to get down to immortalize it. I’ll never be able to sell it, but that’s fine by me. It’s only for my eyes, anyway.

Or Wren’s… Considering it’s a sketch of him, drawn from my point of view when he’d been thrusting between my thighs in his office atRavenjust last week.

Kate sighs heavily like she really is exasperated with me. “Listen, that one Greek god looking alpha of yours just broke in here while I was making coffee. He’s sitting on the couch looking at your sketchbook while I come fetch you-”

“What?!” I squeak, tossing my pencil and sketchbook aside and diving out of my nest in a panic. I hit the ground in an awkward heap, and I groan when my shoulder twinges in pain.

“Careful there, love!” I hear Apollo call out from the living room, and I groan again while picking myself up off the ground. If he’s looking at my sketchbook, he’s definitely going to realize what secret I’ve been keeping from him.

When I glare over at Kate while pulling on a pair of leggings with holes in the knees, she holds her hands up. “Don’t look at me like that. I didn’t let him in here. Motherfucker picked thelock and let himself right in. Seriously, Scarlett? What kind of alphas are you mixing yourself up in? A murderer and a burglar? What’s next?” She huffs, and I snort at that, though there’s nothing funny about the fact that Caito is, in fact, a murderer. Even if it’d been completely justified.

At least Ihopeso. Every time I’ve texted the man over the last few days and asked him about the case, he’s brushed it off as if it’s no big deal. It’s like he’s telling me I don’t need to concern myself with it. It’s rather annoying.

I quickly glance at my reflection in the full length mirror set up in the corner of my room, but I honestly look like shit. The shirt I have on also has holes in it, one of them large enough to reveal the teal colored sports bra I have on underneath it.

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