Page 55 of One for the Money
What would I do without Matteo?
“Why not, Alex?” he asks her, keeping his voice gentle. When he looks over his shoulder at the three of us, shooting daggers that demand we keep our mouths shut, I back up a few paces and sit down at his dining table. I’ve sat here hundreds of times, but never have I felt so heavy in this chair. Jude joins me, gripping the edge of it like he wants to rip it to pieces.
“I…” she hiccups around tears, and it takes every fucking ounce of self-control I have not to run towards her. “I can’t be your scent match.”
She’s not addressing anyone in particular. I think it’s all of us. Though Jude hasn’t said it outright, it’s pretty apparent he’s affected by her scent more than he would be if she were just another Omega.
Matteo hums softly, and Dario opens the door to the trailer, silently slipping out. He’s back in just a few moments, dragging a shaking and panting Dexter, who looks rough. His hair is sticking up at odd angles, and he reminds me of that feeling you get in the moment before a jack-in-the-box pops up.
Dexter shakes his head. “I can’t be here,” he saysquietly, pleading with Dario as Matteo whispers to Alex in soothing tones. “I can’t, Dario, please don’t make me.”
Dario pulls his brother to his chest, rubbing his back. “I know, I know, but look at her, Dex. Something happened to her, just like something happened to us.” He looks at me, Jude, and Matteo and gives a weak smile. “Like all of us. I think you need to hear it. She deserves that much from you.”
A loud whine from the corner has all of us staring at Alex, whose eyes are locked on Dexter. He’s glaring back at her with a fierce intensity, and it makes my breath catch in my throat.
For some reason, Alex must feel the most comfortable talking to Dexter in this situation, because she doesn’t take her eyes off of him as she speaks. He’s frozen in place under her attention, hands clenched in tight fists.
“I can’t be your scent match, because I am going back on heavy suppressants and will never scent anyone else again.”
“Why?” I ask, hoping that she’ll give me an answer I can work with.
“Because I have already met my scent match, and he tried to kill me.”
Chapter 20
“You stupid bitch!”Rich roars, the back of his hand hitting my cheek and sending me sprawling towards the floor. “I can’t fucking smell you! What the fuck did you do?”
I knew he would take it badly, but this isn’t what I expected.
“I just went on stronger suppressants,” I say, struggling to sit up. “I was told it was best working in emergency medicine to be on the heaviest doses I can stand, since I never know what type of Alphas are going to come in. If one is feral, I could throw them into rut with my pheromones.” I wipe the back of my hand over my face, and it comes away with blood on it. “I was just trying to be safe.”
“That wasn’t your decision to make, Omega,” Greg chastises, ‘accidentally’ stepping on my fingers as he walks by. “As your pack, we need to be consulted on matters like this. We have a stake in this, too, you know. If you don’t go into heat, how are we supposed to get pups?”
Luckily, we haven’t bonded, something my Omega and I are on the same page about.
The last thing I want now is kids, especially with these three, and it’s nearly impossible to get pregnant without a bond. And the idea ofgoing into heat around them, being that vulnerable? It makes me want to vomit.
This isn’t what I thought my life would end up like. I could see a happy future with Rich for years, but everything changed on our anniversary when he introduced me to Tripp and Greg.
How did I miss what was going to happen?
He tricked me. And I ignored the blaring red flags until it was too late.
And now I am paying for my naivety.
When Tripp and Greg first moved in, it really wasn’t all bad. I wasn’t attracted to them like I was with Rich, but I could deal with their touches and attention as long as he was in the room. But the more intertwined I got with the three of them, the rougher things got.
By the time Rich convinced me to register as a pack with them officially, I should have known that I wasn’t safe.
But I was a fucking fool. I should’ve paid attention to the warning signs. I know them well, considering the fact that I have a checklist I go through with Omegas that we think may be at risk in the ER.
I never would’ve thought that the Omega at risk was going to be me. But none of us ever do.
An Italian leather loafer connects with my ribs, and I curl up in a ball and weep. Tripp just laughs, like my pain is the funniest thing he’s ever fucking seen.
He likes my tears.
Says they taste sweet when he licks them off my cheeks.
