Page 27 of Pack Rivals: Part Two
Gonna dip my head between her thighs and–
“Nate!” Angel barks, bringing me back to the land of the living. The omega hammers her little fists against my back. Kicking her legs and narrowly missing the crown jewels.
“We got to go.” He has the radio to his ear. “The others have been engaged in gunfire.”
“Gunfire!” the omega yelps.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. We’ve got you,” Hardy says as he covers my front and Angel my rear.
“You think there’s another way out of here?” Angel calls from behind me. “I’m concerned the main entrance will be compromised.”
Hardy jerks to the left, down a corridor we hadn’t passed earlier. “Fire escape.”
He crashes straight through it, sirens blaring and then we’re racing through a deserted parking lot, and out towards a wire fence.
I look up at it and then down at the omega slung over my shoulder.
Yeah, I can do this.
Holding onto her with one arm, I use my other to start scaling the fence but she’s squirming too much. It’s impossible.
“Little bird,” I warn, jumping back down to the ground.
“We need to cut through it,” Hardy says and I hook out my knife and start slicing through wires. Hardy grips either side of the cut wires and tears the fence apart.
“After you,” he says, when the hole is large enough to climb through. I step through, the others right behind me and then we’re sprinting for the van. The omega bouncing and cursing on my shoulder all the way.
We can hear the sound of gunshots from within the building but I try not to think of that. I keep pounding one foot in front of the other until I’m leaping into the van and slamming the door behind us.
The omega lands on her back on the seats with an oof and scowls up at me.
I don’t even smirk.
Instead I turn to Angel.
“Axel? Connor?”
The radio crackles against his ear but I can’t make out the garbled words.
“They’re coming.” He jumps into the driver’s seat and starts revving the engine.
“What’s going on?” the omega asks, her lower lip wobbling.
“The bad guys,” I say.
“The others?” she says, swinging her gaze around the van.
“Coming, sweetheart,” Hardy tells her, finding a blanket and wrapping it around her shoulders.
She coos, snuggling into the material like it’s made of cashmere and not some shitty rug Axel keeps in the van.
Her heat is all fucked up.
I peer through the window and my hand strays to the door handle.
“What you doing?” Hardy asks.
“Going back to join the fun,” I say simply.
