Page 72 of One for the Money
Before coming here, it had been ages since I properly whined without trying to stifle it, and yet, surrounded by these men, I feel like I am doing it constantly. Tripp hated when I did it, so I had to force the response away unless I wanted his wrath.
“My nest isn’t ready,” I whisper to him, embarrassed to admit my failure as an Omega. Movement in the corner ofmy eye shows Jude slowing down to stand beside me. “And it won’t fit us all.”
The showrunner grunts. “We’ll make it work. None of us is leaving you, Alex, so you’ll need to get over it.”
Get over it?
Get over having to show them a nest that isn’t good enough for anyone?
Dario shushes me, gently petting the back of my hand. “He didn’t mean it like that. What the big brute,” he raises his voice on that word, “meant to say was that we don’t care what your nest looks like.”
Dexter, Quinton, and Matteo are waiting at the steps of my trailer, their rideshare somehow arriving before we did, despite leaving at the same time. Was Jude driving really slow or something?
They’re whispering to each other in low, aggressive tones. Dexter has his arms crossed over his chest, closed off from the other two. He rolls his eyes, and I can tell he’s about to argue with them before he glimpses me.
His mouth snaps shut, his jaw flexing as he takes me in. His eyes rip away from me, leaving behind a wound that gapes and aches. I have to stop myself from clutching my chest.
“Hey, Doc,” Quinton says, a flirty smile on his face. “Gonna invite me into your place?”
It’s hard not to match his energy. The Alpha is faced with what is arguably one of the most difficult designation illnesses, and yet, he’s still got so much zest for life.
Against my better judgment, against everything I promised myself when I joined this circus, I open the door to my trailer and let them in.
I’m off suppressants, surrounded by the irresistible scents of these men, and I’m letting them into my home. Into my nest.
They pile in, and I can tell they’re trying not to jostle one another as we make our way across the small living area to my nest. I’m exhausted. I know that I left the hospital too early, and that I probably should have received another pheromone infusion, but spending time with them is going to have to be enough.
With their sweet, delectable scents swirling around me, I start to think that maybe this will be alright. That I can be alright. What if they are is precisely what my wounded soul needs?
I start to think that, but the thought runs away like a spooked horse.
Because my nest is destroyed.
The blankets are shredded.
The pillows ripped open, stuffing everywhere.
Every single light bulb smashed, every gauzy piece of fabric ruined.
My nest.
It wasn’t much. Small, cramped, and ultimately temporary.
But it was mine.
I can’t afford to replace it. I have to save every dime I make here so I can start over once the contract is over. Or run sooner, now that I have scent matches and Rich has a vague idea of my location.
My knees buckle and I fall to the ground, tears running down my face.
Will I ever know peace?
Will my life ever be what it is supposed to be?
I thought my luck was turning around when I got this job, but what has it gotten me? Assaulted, unwillingly scent matched, diagnosed as a Forsaken Omega, and now this.
“Someone…” The words are trapped in my throat by a dam of disbelief.
“Who the fuck,” Jude snarls, taking in the carnage of my safe space. The entrails of my comfort. “Who did this?”
