Page 111 of Knot My Band: Part Two
“There’s nothing you can do now until she gets here so come back to bed and get to sleep so you’re at your best when she gets here,” Jack tells me as he leads me back to bed.
“I have too much adrenaline pumping through my system,” I confess.
Chase’s smile is downright dirty. “We can help with that.”
He pulls me in to kiss him, and my other alphas surround me. They help me work off my extra energy before I fall asleep, surrounded by their scents and love.
Oli
OMEGA BUZZ GOSSIP COLUMN
FANS ARE WONDERING IF MEET AND GREETS WILL BE REINSTATED ON THE ALPHA AND OMEGA TOUR AFTER THE ARREST OF MAY THORNTON AND TREVOR DAVIS
July 8th
I’m jittery, standing outside the hotel, the cold bite of the evening air doing nothing to cool down the firestorm in my chest. My heart’s doing this wild tango, thumping against my ribs like it’s ready to bust out and do its own solo performance. I can’t help it; my hands are all over the place, twisting at the hem of my jacket, then raking through my rose gold waves.
We are standing down a side alley with no cars coming and going to stay out of the main areas.
“Relax,” Riley whispers beside me, her pixie-cut blonde hair a stark contrast against the night sky. She drops a hand on my shoulder, grounding me with that touch, like she always knows how to do. I flash her a grateful smile – where would I be without my right-hand girl?
“Sorry, just…nervous,” I admit, my voice barely above the hum of the bustling street around us.
“Brittney will love you. How could she not?” Riley’s eyes twinkle with that unwavering belief she has in me, the kind that makes mountains feel like molehills.
“Thanks, Ry.” I keep my gaze locked on the road, straining to see headlights that might signal her arrival. “It’s just—”
“Shh, I know.” Riley squeezes my shoulder, and I lean into the comfort. “She’s been through a lot. But she’s coming to the right place. With you.”
“Hope so.” I chew on my bottom lip, a habit when the nerves kick in. “I’ve been thinking I might want to set up some sort of foundation to help omegas.”
“That’s a great idea, Oli,” Riley agrees.
My alphas huddle nearby, their postures rigid as statues. They’re etched with tension, each coiled like a spring, ready to snap into action at the flicker of a shadow or the rustle of leaves.
“Maybe we should wait inside,” Dax murmurs, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through the cool night air. There’s a fierce kind of loyalty in his eyes.
“Nope,” I quip back with a wink, trying to keep the mood light despite the knot tightening in my gut.
Headlights pierce the darkness at the end of the street, and my heart kicks against my ribs. Riley catches my eye, her blue gaze a steady beacon in the sea of my anxious thoughts.
“Brittney,” I call out, infusing every ounce of warmth I can muster into the name. The door swings open, and there she is.
Brittney steps out of the car tentatively, and my eyes are immediately drawn to the bruises covering her face. Purple and yellow bloom beneath her skin, and I feel my chest tighten at the sight.
“Hey there,” I say as I approach, keeping my steps slow and deliberate. I don’t want to spook her, not with those bruises painting her vulnerability in stark contrast. My smile’s as gentle and meant to soothe, not startle. “I’m so glad you made it.”
Brittney’s lashes flutter like the wings of a nervous sparrow, her gaze flitting from one alpha to the next. They’re lined up, a protective barricade, but I bet they look more like a row ofdanger to her. Her eyes finally meet mine, and there’s a silent conversation in that glance—a plea for something resembling normal in all this chaos.
“Hi…” Her voice is a thread of sound, barely there, like the last note of a song fading into silence. She nods, a dip of her chin that’s almost imperceptible, her hands twisting in the fabric of her skirt.
“Come on inside,” I gesture behind me, and Riley runs forward to hold the door for her. Jack, Dax, Aiden, and Chase go to the trunk of the car and pull out the one bag Brittney brought with her.
It doesn’t look like much, so I make a mental note to get her some clothes and necessities.
“I don’t know what I’m doing here,” she confesses. “I can’t just follow you around on tour for no reason.”
“Listen,” I start, leaning in just a touch so my words are only for her. “We’re in Europe for another month and a half. The tour is going to be wild, loud, and amazing.” I paint the picture bright and bold, hoping to entice a smile from her. “And I want you to be part of it.”
