Page 57 of Pack Rivals: Part Two
13
Bea
Silver insistson packing all the trash bags into his car and driving them to the garbage dump.
“You can’t keep them here, you’ll attract wild animals,” he says.
I swing my head around the beach. “You mean crabs?” I ask. “Are you going to try to convince me I need to be scared of crabs now too?”
“You ever been pinched by a crab?” he asks me. I shake my head. “It hurts. A lot.”
“Where were you pinched?” I ask him with suspicion.
“Never you mind,” he tells me, leaning his back against the car and crossing his arms over his chest, his biceps flexing in that way that does something funny to my insides. I try hard to ignore that feeling.
“Bea,” he says.
And I screw up my eyes. I’m not sure I can handle anymore half-ass apologies today.
He sighs. “I know you don’t want me around right now or any of the others, but the more we look into this clinic the more concerned I am about your safety.”
My eyes flick open. “What have you found out?”
“They were doing underground research on new drugs that could transform betas into omegas. There are already some on the black market but they don’t work. They’re basically perfume and hormone pills. This clinic was doing serious research. It’s just not clear who was funding it.”
“Why did they want me?”
He shakes his head. “I’m guessing there aren’t a lot of omegas they can lay their hands on to do their research. Most omegas belong to–”
“Insanely rich and powerful families. Yeah, I know.”
He nods. “Do you plan to do more beach cleaning?” A smile hovers on his lips.
“Yes,” I say, “it’s good for the soul.”
“Then can I send one of my men down to watch you?”
“You didn’t like getting your hands dirty, Alpha?” I tease, the words slipping out too easily. My cheeks immediately blaze.
“I enjoy getting my hands dirty,” he growls, then seems to check himself. He snaps upright into that soldier stature of his. “I was under the impression you’d prefer it if I wasn’t around right now.”
I chew on my lip. “I’m not sure I’m ever going to want you around, Silver.”
“I understand,” he says, his eyes steely as if he’s working hard not to give anything away.
“Why did you do it?” I whisper. “The bet?”
I swear his shoulders stiffen that little bit more.
“I can’t give you a good answer to that, Bea.”
“You mean you can’t give me one that makes you look good?”
He pauses, then nods. “All I can say is it might appear like a stupid rivalry to you on the outside – to everyone on the outside – but here in the middle of it, there’s a lot of …” for a minute, I can imagine him in uniform, lining up on parade; not a muscle in his body moves, “a lot of hurt and heartache.”
“Axel and Angel?”
“All of us.”
