Page 4 of Omega Untamed
The Omega was falling. His knees bent and I caught him under the arms before he hit the pavement.
The other who was with him went down hard and we left him there, groaning and bleeding, in the gutters of the alley.
The one in my arms was big for an Omega, lean hard muscles, tall, might’ve passed for an Alpha if it weren’t for his peaches and cream scent.
Someone brought the Lincoln around to the mouth of the alley. Doors opened. I lifted him into the backseat without effort.
Stone, one of Myre’s favorite henchmen and the one who hit the Omega got into the Lincoln’s backseat from the other side. Now the Omega lay unconscious between us.
Myre got into the front passenger seat, motioning wildly with his arms. “Drive!”
The car screeched away.
I rolled my eyes. Nicely done. Way tonotbring attention to our nocturnal activities.
But it wasn’t my business. None of it was.Don’t think. Just act.It had been my motto for two years.
We’d all been informed of the Omega named Kee, wild, untamable. An addict. He was too easy with his ways. He bragged. Supposedly he talked too much. Namely, about who he bought his drugs from.
Two days ago, two of Myre’s soldiers had been arrested. Talk around the Trenches was it was Kee who’d tipped off the cops. Whether intentionally or not, didn’t matter. It was well-known Kee had cop friends he serviced, and who in turn helped look after him.
Myre had had enough of this brash Omega who ran savage over Alpha hearts for top dollar hyped up on sex and drugs, and name-dropped every chance he got.
Privately, I thought Kee was good for business. And I knew he wasn’t the one who’d ratted. But then again, I didn’t get paid to think. Never. No thought. Just to the job.
Kee’s weight pressed against my shoulder, his head lolling side to side, his mouth slightly open. I couldn’t help but notice his extreme beauty. No Alpha could help it. The firm line of his jaw and nose combined with a delicacy that rode a very fine edge between exotic strength and proud charm. His hair was thick, glossy black, a shade or two lighter than mine, and mostly straight save a few ends which curled up as if to protest the way every other hair on his head lay perfectly aligned.
A glimpse of his green eyes before the light had gone out in them was the same green as the peridot necklace my Omega father always used to wear. August-born, it was his birthstone, and my father loved stuff like that, giving meanings to things, and power, like gems and Zodiac signs and ancient symbols.
Kee wore nothing under a casual black vest, his broad chest rising and falling, gleaming bronze under the passing streetlights. His jeans gaped at the thighs, revealing smooth skin beneath. He smelled not of the streets, but of sugar cookies fresh from the oven, and peaches, and sunlight on new leaves, and something else I couldn’t quite recall, something way back from childhood that both comforted and annoyed me.
Don’t think.
None of it mattered. Kee was trouble. The end. Nothing good came of people like Kee, unless they changed from the inside out. And when did that happen for people who were addicts and wild to the core? Never, probably. I saw it happen to my Omega brother who died at eighteen. I saw it all the time on the streets.
Life was the way it was, and stupid little shits like Kee got caught up in it and didn’t even know what they were doing.
Whether Myre was right or wrong about Kee being a danger to his business, I was here, now, trying to hold him up, trying not to see the blood that ran from his nose and dripped from his upper lip where Stone had hit him hard.
Stupid boy. Silly child. I wanted to be done with this. Tonight. But knowing Myre, he’d prolong the drama of it all. He’d enjoy lording over his prisoner. He’d make him think there was hope that Omegas even affected him anymore at his age. He’d watch with sadistic pleasure as Kee used all his talents to get a reprieve, a pass, another chance. He’d make Kee think he was succeeding. And then, when Kee was most hopeful, eager to make any deal, he’d crush him. Squeeze him. Destroy him.
All because he thought Kee had a big mouth. Which perhaps he did, but not about this situation. But I couldn’t say that to Myre. He wouldn’t hear me.
I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly through flared nostrils.
Stone said, over the unconscious Omega, “Smells good, don’t he?”
“Hadn’t noticed.” My voice sounded far away.
“Like hell you haven’t.”
Every muscle in my face hardened. I turned my head very slightly, and stared at him unblinking. It was one talent I possessed. Literature called it thewithering look.
I didn’t do chit-chat. Not with Stone, not with any of them. They disgusted me. All of them. I was only here for one thing. To get the job done.
Immediately, Stone glanced away.
Kee fell heavier against me as the car made a right turn. His long legs were spread, knees bent, his ass forward on the seat as he sprawled in slumber. His hair blended with my dark coat sleeve; the scent of him filled my nostrils—sweeter than most Omegas, with dark-edged addiction thrown in. It annoyed more than aroused. I’d had enough of prideful Omegas with pretty trappings. And the conceit of this one had gotten him trapped. Who could be amazed at that?
