Page 66 of Run Omega Run
"I need to make arrangements," he said quietly. "But I'll be back soon, and everything will be handled properly."
She nodded without really seeing him, her fingers wrapped around her tea mug with a grip so tight her knuckles had gone white. But her eyes remained vacant, staring at something none of us could see... perhaps the flames that had consumedeverything she'd built, perhaps the empty space where Susie should have been sitting among the other children.
"We have to find her," she said suddenly, her voice cracking with desperate intensity that cut through the room's careful calm. "Susie's out there somewhere, and they have her, and we're just sitting here drinking tea like everything's fine."
The words hit the children like physical blows. Tomas pulled his blanket tighter, while Dylan's breathing quickened with anxiety that threatened to spiral into panic. They'd been trying to process the loss of their home, their safety, their surrogate grandmother. To add the reality of Susie's disappearance was more pressure than their young minds could bear.
"We'll find her," Bennett said, his voice carrying absolute conviction as he settled Loubie Lou more comfortably against his chest. "We have everything in hand, Heather. Plans are already in motion. But right now, you need to rest. You all do."
She shook her head with violent denial, tea sloshing over the rim of her mug to splash across her smoke-stained clothes. "I can't rest. Not while she's out there. Not while those monsters have her."
But even as she protested, exhaustion was winning the battle against the adrenaline that had kept her functioning through hours of crisis. Her eyelids drooped despite her efforts to stay alert, her body swaying slightly as shock and grief finally overwhelmed the desperate energy that had sustained her.
Bennett moved with careful precision, setting Loubie Lou on the couch beside the other children before taking a position next to Heather. His hand found hers where it clutched the mug, gentle fingers working to loosen her death grip before the ceramic shattered from the pressure.
"Just for a few hours," he murmured, his peppermint scent wrapping around her like a sedative. "Let us watch over things while you get some strength back."
She tried to argue, tried to maintain the vigilance that had defined her approach to protecting her family, but her body had reached its limits. Her head tilted toward his shoulder despite her mental protests, seeking comfort her conscious mind wanted to reject.
I watched as her breathing gradually deepened, the tea mug tilting dangerously in her loosening grip. Bennett caught it smoothly before it could fall, setting it aside while his other arm circled her shoulders to support her as consciousness finally surrendered to exhaustion.
"There's a good girl," he whispered, lifting her with care. "Let us carry this for a while."
The sight of her finally at rest should have been comforting, but I found myself studying every shadow, every window, every potential entry point that might threaten this sanctuary we'd created. The children were safe for now, Heather was getting the rest her body desperately needed, and my pack brothers were already planning our response to the bastards who'd done this.
But somewhere in the darkness beyond these strong walls, a fourteen-year-old girl was counting on us to find her before it was too late.
Chapter 28
Dante
The bed Bennett had designed for our future Omega could have housed a small village, its massive frame stretching across most of the master bedroom like an altar built for worship and protection. Custom-built from solid oak with reinforced joints that could support our entire pack plus the children who'd claimed sanctuary in its embrace.
The children had arranged themselves around Heather’s sleeping form like protective satellites, their small bodies instinctively seeking the warmth and security that came from pack closeness. Loubie Lou curled against Heather's left side, her rescued bunny clutched between them like a bridge connecting their dreams. Tomas had claimed the space by her right shoulder, his blanket finally released from its death grip but still within easy reach. Dylan and Denson flanked the foot of the bed, their breathing finally steady after hours of smoke-damaged coughing.
Even in sleep, Heather remained the center of our makeshift family's gravity, her strawberry and cream scent gradually returning to something closer to normal as her body processed the trauma and began the long work of healing. Her face had finally relaxed from the mask of grief and determination she'd worn since Angus had carried her from the burning house,allowing me to see traces of the woman who'd captured all our hearts with her fierce independence and hidden vulnerability.
Bennett sat on the edge of the massive mattress, his phone pressed to his ear as he spoke in low tones with contractors who specialized in emergency construction. Even in the catastrophe’s aftermath, he was already planning renovations that would transform this mansion into a proper home for seven traumatized children and the woman who'd claimed them all.
"Individual bedrooms for each child," he was saying, his free hand stroking Heather's hair with gentle repetition that seemed to soothe them both. "Safety glass in all windows, reinforced doors, security systems that won't make them feel like prisoners but will keep them absolutely safe."
I occupied the chair beside the bed, holding her hand and humming a faint lullaby that seemed to emerge from somewhere deep in my chest. It was one my mother used to sing to me, a sweet tune that offered both protection and love. The sound seemed to settle into the very walls of the room, creating an atmosphere of safety that eased even my own nerves.
From where I was sitting, I could see the entire room— every window, every doorway, every potential threat that might dare to approach our sanctuary.
