Page 55 of Omega's Forbidden Heat
“That night?”
“Yes, that night. I never apologised for it and I should have a long time ago.”
There’s no need to explain what night he means. They are both thinking of it. Too many ghosts and phantoms in the air. “Why would you need to apologise?”
“We were all responsible Jack. All egging each other on, and winding each other up.” He sighs and Jack twists his head to look at him. He looks as tired as he feels, concern etched across his face. “We all know it could’ve been anyone of us who threw that punch. It could just as easily have been me.”
Jack’s eyes fall back to his coffee. “I don’t know.” He takes another cautious sip, the bitter taste hitting his tongue.
That night seems like an eternity ago, and yet the ghost of his younger self hovers in the corner. He can still feel his fear, smell his regret, see his disappointment. It had all happened so quickly. The laughter and the banter, then the jostling and postulating, turning to aggression, shouts, pushes and eventually the swing of his own fist.
Instinctively, he crunches and flexes his fingers.
“At the end of the day, it was bad luck,” Finn says. “Every single one of us knows that.”
Jack peers into his friend’s brown eyes. “I nearly killed him,” he says simply. He has come to terms with it, with his own responsibility.
“You didn’t, though.”
“He was unconscious for two days.”
“I saw him once, you know.” Finn shuffles on his seat. “Walking down Chichester high street. It was a few years back now.”
“Did he recognise you?”
Finn shakes his head. “But I heard through people that he’s fine. I think he works up Manchester way now.”
Jack opens his mouth to reply.
“Hello.”
They look up. A nurse, whose hair is escaping a French roll pinned to the back of her head, has stopped before them.
“Amy is awake. Would one of you like to come and see her? Just one mind you — we don’t want her to be overwhelmed. She’s still pretty woozy from the painkillers.”
“You go,” Finn says, motioning his chin towards him.
Jack stares at him. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, you’re her Alpha and she’ll want you there.”
The coffee in his cup burns through the plastic to his hands and he feels suddenly unsteady. He nods. Words are too hard to come by right now.
* * *
Five years ago
Half the exams are over and it feels glorious to be out tonight. Out and free. It’s Saturday tomorrow and the next exam isn’t for another week. And he’s making the most of it, necking back the pints.
The courtyard at the back of the bar heaves with people, bustling and yelling at each other over the pound of music. The mid-summer’s sun sunk behind the horizon an hour ago, leaving a strange glow in the sky and the air humid and heavy. Everybody is drunk, the alcohol and heat mixing to create a heady atmosphere.
The beer in his veins buzzes and the world has that blurry quality about it. Everything is soft and slow. He watches as Finn emerges from the bar and weaves his way in and out of people, four more pints of golden liquid balanced in his hands, moisture sliding down the sides of the glasses.
“Hey!” Jacks calls out, waving to Finn to remind him where they are, and Finn grins above the rims. “Good man, good man.” Jack says, patting the table in front of him.
Finn’s nearly reached the table when it happens, a kerfuffle Jack doesn’t quite see and a man steps backwards into Finn, shoving him forward. The glasses drop. Crashing to the floor. Glass hits concrete and splinters spit into the air. Liquid sloshes across the ground, onto Finn’s trainers and the legs of his jeans.
The two men spin to face each other and he can see their raised chins and harsh words. Then he’s there too, with George on his right and Al on his left, and the man who pushed Finn is flanked by others too.
