Page 86 of Pack Frenzy
Silence, sharp as broken glass.
Eli’s voice drops. “The Nexus guard tasered you? Why?”
“For existing in the wrong place at the wrong time?” I try for a joke, but it lands flat. I swallow. “I panicked and started to run. He decided that was ‘noncompliant.’ It’s done.”
“It’s not ‘done.’” Eli’s hands fall away from my skin like he’s afraid he’ll hurt me by accident. Fury hums under his words, quiet and lethal. “None of that was in your file. Restraints, sure. Heat suppressant shot at arrival protocols. But tasers? On an Omega?”
“Eli.” I reach back, covering his wrist with my palm. “We’re at the beach. Please don’t…don’t make this about Nexus. Not today.”
His jaw works; I can feel the tension in the way his arm vibrates. For a second, I think he’s going to argue.
“I’m not letting it go,” he says finally, voice rough. “They don’t get to mark you and pretend it didn’t happen.”
“I’m not asking you to let it go.” The words scrape on the way out. “I’m asking you not to ruin our trip and my first time at the beach in years.”
That lands. His shoulders sag a fraction. “Okay,” he says, and I hear the compromise in it. “Not today.” A beat. “But Iamfiling something when we get back.”
“Fine.” I squeeze his wrist, then let go. “Future problem. Present solution is SPF.”
Something like a laugh huffs out of him, broken but real. His hands return to my back, gentler than before, skirting the bruises like they’re made of spun glass.
“Does it still hurt?” he asks quietly.
“No, I don’t think about it that much.” I tip my head, forcing a smile into my voice. “Besides, you were doing a great job distracting me, actually.”
He exhales, then finishes with a soft, careful pat. “There. SPF perfection.”
That small, casual care lands harder than it should. My throat tightens. “Thanks,” I say, too quietly, and grab the bottle just to have something to do.
While I’m thinking about my parents and Sabrina and freckle-counting, his hand disappears toward the blanket. I catch the faint buzz of a notification a second later. When I glance down, his phone lies half under the corner of the fabric, screen dark again like nothing happened.
It’s quick enough I could’ve imagined him sliding it open, firing off a message to someone back at Nexus. Logging the bruise-shaped lie in my file.
He meets my gaze over his shoulder, something stubborn and guilty flickering in his eyes.
“What?” he asks, voice light on purpose.
“Nothing,” I say, and decide to let him have this one. “Turn, I missed a spot.”
His mouth curves, but the anger hasn’t left his eyes. It’s just banked now, tucked under the surface.
That small, casual care lands harder than it should. My throat tightens. “Thanks,” I say, too quietly, and grab the bottle just to have something to do.
“My family used to come to the beach,” I blurt, rubbing sunscreen between my palms. “Before the sun even woke up.” I motion to them with sunscreen on my hands, and Eli peels off his shirt.
Slowly, I start rubbing lotion into his muscles.
“Mom would be yelling in Spanish about sunscreen. Dad swore he’d packed the cooler when it was still on the porch. Sabrina and I loaded up on snacks at the first gas station we stopped at.” The laugh that escapes feels rusty, like I’m using a part of me I haven’t in years. “We had this dumb game—counting freckles. First one to a hundred got a Popsicle.” The memory blooms bright, then wilts, and I swallow hard before the ache can show.
“Who won?” Eli asks softly.
“Her. Always her.” I smile, because if I don’t, it’ll break me. “She cheated. Or I sucked at counting.”
“Both,” Cassian says, grin softening.
“Probably.” Then: “We stopped coming after she disappeared. The towels just…stayed in the closet.”
No one says anything. The silence isn’t heavy, though—just steady with the constant sound of the waves.
