Page 47 of Party Girl: How a Naughty Omega Finds Love
Her lips press together. She’s not convinced.
“The club could be put up for sale or torn down.”
Trev scrubs his face. “Nothing is happening with the club until we know for sure the charges will stick.”
“So you’re going to wait until it’s too late to help them?” Whitney asks, nostrils flaring.
“I’m doing what I can for now.” Trev walks toward her. “Tonight I’ll rest easy knowing he didn’t drug you and force you to dance.”
Whitney loses some of her steam.
Trev stares at her. “I’m not trying to be a dick.”
Asher coughs, and I cut my gaze to him. His lips are pulled down, but there’s no hiding the smile he’s fighting. He’s such a child sometimes, but it’s part of why we love him. Even during a conversation like this, he can find something to lighten the mood.
“Believe it or not, I’ve spent time trying to figure out what to do for them. But like Avi said, it’s not up to us. The Royal Council will do what they do. It’s our job to protect people. I can only do so much for Nova, and then it’s out of my hands.” Trev gazes down at her. “She’s safe for now.”
The anger in Whitney’s eyes is deeper than just tonight. There’s too much rage for this to only be about the dancers. “She’s not safe until you know a pack will treat her well.”
Tension crackles between them. Trev is perceptive, and his posture softens as he realizes some of the fight is personal for Whitney.
“I can’t control that,” he whispers, regret coloring each word.
Silence blankets the room, stifling further conversation. The butter is sizzling. I carefully place the sandwich in the pan and watch the clock. The conversation is too intense. There’s too much wrong with the world. Whitney wants more than we can feasibly give, and it’s another failure to add to the list.
We can try to help people, but at the end of the day, none of us are safe. So long as the Royal Council rules our society, we’re merely puppets to a master who wants low packs to lose.
I’ve been doing a spectacular job of failing so far.
