Page 31 of Omega's Forbidden Heat
“Excuse me if I find that unlikely. I know Jack Johnson better than anyone else.”
“He’s your best friend, Finn. Would it really be that bad if anything had happened?” She tries not to look at him when she says it, keeping her voice neutral and uninterested, not wanting to betray how important the answer is to her. If Finn had an inkling, any suspicion, how much she really, truly liked Jack, she has a feeling it would make everything that much more complicated.
“So you’re saying something did happen?” His jawline hardens.
“No, I’m not saying that at all. I’m asking why you’d have an issue if it had?” She twists a stray piece of hair angrily around her finger and tucks it behind her ear. “Not that I am interested or anything.”
His hot examination sweeps across her face. “I have a problem with it, because, like I said, I know Jack and I know how he treats girls. I know how he treats Omegas. And there’s no way in hell he’s toying with my little sister like that.”
“Maybe the girls like to be treated like that.”
“For fuck’s sake, Amy. Don’t be a brat. You know exactly what I mean”
“Actually, I don’t think I do. It is not like you ever tell me anything. Like who was that Rebecca girl?”
He flinches and she notes he came home alone last night. Is that the reason for this bad temper? “Don’t change the subject, Amy. I’m warning you, stay away from Jack. You have no idea who he is anymore. No idea what being inside did to him.”
“He’s the same Jack.”
“Is he? Then why wasn’t he out of prison a year, two years ago? When he should have been.”
She stares at him open-mouthed. “I don’t know,” she whispers.
He scrubs his hand down his face. “Look, his head isn’t in the right place right now. I don’t want you getting hurt. I don’t want you to get in any trouble.”
“Of course his head isn’t in the right place, he just lost his mum!”
“Exactly! The last thing he needs is to get tangled up with some silly little girl. And that’s the last thing you need too.”
She glares at him with pure hatred. Sometimes she is amazed at how her brother can do that. One minute she feels nothing but love for him, the deep connection that she’ll never feel with anyone else, and the next he talks to her like they’re children again, and she has an overwhelming desire to stamp on his foot.
“I am not a silly little girl. And you know it.”
“Then don’t act like one with Jack. Like I said, stay away from him.”
She shakes her head at him. He’s so bloody dramatic. And she can do whatever she wants. She’s not 13 anymore. And he is no longer her babysitter, or her minder.
The vet walks over to them, eyes swinging warily between the two as if she realises she’s interrupting some tense conversation.
“Well,” she says, “I am pretty sure I am right, and that it is just a virus, but I’ve got the blood sample. I won’t have the results back until tomorrow morning. He’s sleeping. I’ve given him something to make him comfortable. Just make sure he’s well hydrated and let him rest. Call me if he gets any worse or you are concerned.”
“Thank you, Angela,” Amy says, shaking her hand and walking with her towards her car.
“My pleasure,” the vet says. “He’s in good shape, Amy. You’re looking after him well. Try not to worry. I am sure he’s going to be fine in a day or two.” She pats Amy on the arm and climbs into her car.
Finn is behind her. “You coming home?”
“No,” she says it curtly, still pissed with him. “Gonna go for a run. I need to burn off some steam”
The run along the path is hard work. It’s rained non-stop over the last few days, leaving the ground sticky and heavy with mud. It clings to the soles of her trainers, tugging at her feet and quickly her thighs and calves burn.
There is a strong breeze in the air too, and it rattles through the hedgerow and the branches and lifts the sweat from her skin, keeping her cool. She deviates off the path when she reaches the woodland at the top of the Down, happy to lose herself in among the trees, the ground here covered with damp leaves. She hears the chatter of a squirrel in the branches above her and far off the crack of a farmer’s gun.
She drives her arms and legs, ignoring the way her muscles scream, wanting to force away Finn’s words and the irritation they caused.
Is that really what he thinks of her? Still a little girl? Worse, is that what Jack thinks too? Because she is not. She’s not a little girl. She’s a woman and she knows what she wants. And she wants him. Fuck what her brother thinks. Fuck what anybody thinks. They always disapprove of what she does, anyway.
She’s so immersed in her thoughts, she’s barely aware of where she’s running, until suddenly her nose twitches.
