Page 12 of Pack Me Up
The lobby smells like new paint and lemon cleaner. The security guard waves me through with a flick of his hand and a grunt I can’t quite decipher.
I take the stairs, even though the elevator works, because stairs are predictable. I count the stairs as I go to center myself. By the time I hit the landing, my heart rate is almost steady, and I tell myself that’s good enough.
The rehearsal room is at the end of the hall. The door’s propped open and I can hear voices already. Oli’s unmistakably bright voice is bouncing off the walls. There’s a rumble underneath of male voices, low and layered. I edge closer, holding my breath so I can pick out the details.
Oli is pacing, rose gold hair swishing behind her, a blur of motion against the cold white walls. She’s wearing a t-shirt and ripped jeans that look like they’ve been around a while. Jack is perched on the arm of a couch, legs splayed, grinning as he tunes a guitar. Dax is all arms-crossed and scowling with alpha energy radiating off him in waves. Chase has his feet up on a table, drumming fingers in a pattern, while Aiden hunches in the corner, headphones around his neck, gaze fixed on Oli.
There’s a tension in the air, but it’s not the dangerous kind. It’s the tension of people trying to look like they don’t care when they absolutely do. I can sense their emotions in the air since I’m an omega.
Oli spots me and beams. “Britt!” she shouts, like I’m the only person in the world she was hoping to see. She barrels over, pulling me into a quick, breathless hug that smells like descenter.
Immediately, I panic. I forgot to wear the descenter Oli insists is good for professional settings. Oli thinks it protects alphas and omegas. My whole time with Oli, I’ve been using it like she asked.
“You made it!” she says, releasing me but not letting go of my arm. “I thought you’d bail or die of nerves or both.”
I manage a laugh, but it feels thin. “I almost did, but I figured if I’m going to have a breakdown, I should do it while trying.”
Jack snorts. “That’s the spirit.”
Dax just grunts, which is apparently his version of hello.
Chase flashes me a smile that’s all teeth and dimples. “You look terrified, Brittney. We’ve got your back, though. The tour will be fun.”
Aiden glances up, smiles softly, and nods.
Oli steers me toward the mess of cables and instruments near the window. “We’re going to run through your set first. Tommy’s late, obviously, but we figured we’d warm up without him.”
She gestures to a battered stool. “Sit, breathe, and hydrate.” She pushes a water bottle into my hand.
I sit, squeezing the bottle so hard it crumples.
I pull out my guitar and start tuning, letting the familiar tension in the strings work its way up my fingers and into my shoulders. My hands shake, but only a little. I focus on the mechanics again and again. If I get the ritual right, maybe I’ll survive the rest.
Oli hovers. “So, I want you to meet your new security team today. We are announcing your spot on the tour so they’re going to be with you at all times, with your permission, but I really hope you’ll accept.”
I nod, not trusting myself to speak.
Oli frowns. “You good with that?”
“Yeah,” I say. “I appreciate that.”
Jack pipes up from the couch. “We switched the teams up, and you’ll be taking the main Phoenix Pack, and we will use a different team from their company.”
I set my guitar down and sit up straight. “Wait, I don’t want to take your team!”
When Oli saved me from my family, I joined their tour for the European leg. For those few months, the Phoenix Pack was always around in the shadows, protecting all of us, but I stayed in my room most of the time, and we didn’t interact.
Dax growls, not at me, but at the air, and says, “You need them so you’ll take them.”
Chase raises an eyebrow. “Very tactful, big man.”
Oli waves a hand. “They’re the best, and they kept us safe when we needed them, and now they’ll do the same for you.” She leans closer to me, voice a whisper now. “Plus, if I weren’t mated, I might notice that they’re not so hard on the eyes. It can be something to distract you from the stress of the tour.”
She gets a small giggle from me for that. Mostly because I know she would never stray from her mates.
The word safe feels like a joke, but I let her think it lands.
A heavy thud echoes from the hallway. Not a bang, just the unmistakable rhythm of boots on polished concrete, deliberate and slow. The voices in the rehearsal room cut out mid-sentence. Everyone turns toward the door.
