Page 48 of Knot My MC
“How do you know that?” I furrow my brow. Is she someone they keep tabs on? That thought makes me a little too close to jealous, and I think I’ve shown my ass enough for one morning, thank you very much.
“She wasn’t using the last time we saw her.”
“And? When was that?”
Crow studies my face. “A few years ago.”
Somehow that confession soothes the last of my anger. I still don’t like that her scent is all over them. I still don’t like that she’s here, but if they just got her out of the hospital… nothing happened between them tonight. I sniff a little, pleased to find no traces of cum lingering. It doesn’t smell like sex either.
I shouldn’t care if they have sex. They—I stop before I complete the thought. They didn’t leave me. At least, not like I thought they had. According to them, Axel forced their hands, making them promise to stay away from me. Do I trust that story? I absolutely trust that Axel would have threatened some vile acts like they said.
“She’s not a threat,” Knox says. “She’s someone we promised to keep safe. “
“You did a shit job of that. Why am I not surprised?” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. Bitter much?
“I know.” Knox clenches his jaw, rich brown eyes filling with frustration.
“I’m sorry,” I sigh and step away from the omega. “I’m pissed. Her scent is everywhere. I’m hungry. You guys are assholes, and I’m not sure if I forgive you yet, but I shouldn’t have said that.” I don’t bring up my dad. I’m not sure I can say the words out loud without falling apart, and I’m not going to do that in front of these guys.
“Bacon,” Crow mutters, rushing back to the kitchen. He leans slightly to the left. That injury must’ve been bad to still be bothering him so much all these years later.
“The doc—” Jag begins but someone knocks on their door. “Is here, I guess.” He goes to talk to the guy.
“Sorry, I’m late. I didn’t expect a flat tire. Bring her to the conference room.” The guy doesn’t come into the apartment, and for that, I’m thankful. One less witness to my state of disarray and irrational emotions.
"What’s going on?” The omega struggles to sit up, blinking awake. She startles when she sees me, eyes going wide.
I narrow my gaze.
“Who are you?” she asks, glancing around.
“This is Kiki,” Knox tells her.
I growl, one-thousand percent unreasonably angry with him for so much as speaking to her. Sharp and spicy cinnamon perfume cloys in the air between us. Sensing my rage, she shrinks into the cushions.
“Please, no.” The words are a soft whimper and pitiful enough the anger rushes from my body. She’s scared. Her entire body is trembling now and she swivels her head. “I’ll go. I’m sorry, please. Just let me go.” She starts to stand but her legs fall out from under her.
“Nova.” Knox advances and that jealousy spikes again. I know he should help her, but try telling my hormones that.
“We’ll be right there.” Jag shuts the door and returns to Knox’s side. “The doctor is waiting for you, Nova. He’s going to help.”
“No,” she whines, shaking her head. “Please, let me go.”
The guys trade grimaces, but firm resolve settles across their faces.
“The doctor will take care of you.” Knox hoists her up and she tries to push out of his hold, but she’s so weak she can’t even hold herself up. “You’re safe,” Knox murmurs in a soft voice.
A growl rumbles in my chest. He shoots me a look that’s accusing and pleased all at the same time. I bite my cheek and force myself to look at Crow working in the kitchen, ignoring the way he cradles her. They’re being so gentle with her. My hands curl into fists, even though I should be happy about that. I should be proud of them for rescuing her.
They’re helping her and she’s obviously been in some sort of trouble.
And yet all I can seem to think about is ripping their heads off for even daring to touch another omega, and that is one-thousand-percent not a healthy—or reasonable—expectation considering they’re not fucking mine. They exit the room, and I stand there, chest heaving as I grapple for control of my emotions. Seconds tick by. Crow begins to hum, and I focus on the sound instead of my anger. I turn when he reaches the chorus.
“You know I hate that song,” I mumble.
“I was wondering if you still did. Come sit down. We were all starving and I made extra. “ Crow drops a plate on top of the little kitchenette table. There isn’t enough room in this apartment for a formal dining room, but the clubhouse isn’t exactly a formal dinner type of place.
“I know you’re hungry,” he says during my hesitation.
