Page 50 of One Flew Over the Omega's Nest: Part One
A little bit of the tension I’ve been carrying around since Saturday leaves me, and my chest deflates a little.
“Gods, it’s gonna be sexy as fuck to watch you demolish whoever they pair you up with,” Hayden groans, pressing a kiss to my lips. “Then we can go back to your room, and we can re-enact it, but only the fun parts. Naked.”
A laugh bursts out of me, and I wrap my arms around his waist. “You really do have a few loose screws, don’t you?”
He only grins. “Haven’t you learned yet, Fireball? We’re all crazy here.”
twenty-two
Jo
The next day, attention on me seems to have waned. At least enough that I feel like I can sneak off to that abandoned wing after lunch. I’ll have Hayden keep a lookout for me, and I’ll be in and out in no time.
I’m feeling pretty good about my plan, that is, until I walk into my psych session with West and see Sam standing guard against the wall, eyes hard.
These are supposed to be private sessions, so why would they put an orderly on guard? This whole thing stinks of Brooks, andI don’t like it one bit.
I’ll be damned if I let them see me squirm though. “Sammy-boy,” I say politely, nodding to him before taking my spot in the chair across from West so my back is to the alpha. Then I turn my head, scooting over a little in my seat and patting the empty bit of cushion. “It’s a little early in our relationship for couples therapy, but I’m willin’ to give it a try if you are.”
His cheeks darken slightly, and he huffs. “That’s not why I’m here—I mean, we’re not a couple, so—”
West jumps in, shooting Sammy-boy a weird look. “Due to your…consistent rate of violence, Jo, Doctor Brooks has insisted you have an orderly present in all your one-on-one sessions.”
My brows raise in feigned surprise. “They can’t possibly think I’d be a threat to you, Doctor Monroe.”
“West,” he corrects. “And you’re lucky. Brooks wanted Banesworth to be the one sitting in, but Sam…convinced him to step away.”
“I’m sure Sammy can be very convincing when he needs to be,” I purr, hoping he might correct my implication and give me some dirt on how exactly Sam “convinced” him, but nobody takes the bait.
“So, Jo,” West sits back in his seat, crossing his legs, “Please speak freely and pretend that Sam isn’t here. It’s what I plan on doing. Tell me, what’s new with you?”
I can’t suppress my snort, and give the alpha in question a cheeky smile over my shoulder before facing my sexy beta again.
“Well, actually, Doctor Brooks informed me that I would be participatin’ in CT this weekend.”
West stiffens before shaking his head. “No. You will not be. I’ll write a note or…or something, and you will not participate. I don’t know what Brooks is thinking, putting an omega in these fights.”
I find myself bristling at his tone. What, he doesn’t think that me, the omega that single-handedly killed thirteen alphas can take a couple of fights?
Before I have the chance to voice my offense, Sam speaks up. “I don’t know, she obviously needs an outlet for her aggression. Maybe if she takes a few beatings she’ll stop making trouble.”
My jaw drops as I twist in my seat to look at him. “Excuse me?”
Sam only smirks, and it seems he enjoys flustering me.
“Sam,” West snaps, and when I look back at him, his eyes are murderous.
The alpha raises his hands in mock surrender, but that damn smirk is still on his lips. “Sorry. Forgot. Seen and not heard.”
I shoot one last glare at Sam before I turn my attention back to West. The beta at least seems to understand that I don’t golookingfor trouble, it just always seems to find me.
“Lisichka,” Kole’s deep voice rumbles, and I look up from my plate of lasagna. Monday is lasagna night, it seems.
I raise a brow, daring him to speak to me after he ran like a scared little boy yesterday. He stands on the other side of the table, completely ignoring Hayden and Adela as he bores his gaze into me.
“You can’t do those fights.” He braces his hands on the table across from me, making his face level with mine.
“Oh? And why’s that?” I ask, my voice thick as honey, as I do my best to not stare at his lips.
