Page 17 of Omega Scarred

Thank God he's alive.

"You're being reckless," the other man's voice says. "Should be careful."

"Yeah, I fucking know," Fallon grunts. "But Rafe is being unreasonable. I've never seen him like this."

"Pretty sure he's in love," the other guy laughs.

In love? No...no way.

Their footsteps stop at the foot of the ladder. "Do you need help up?" the other guy says.

"Well, my shoulder feels like someone jammed an icepick in it, so...yeah," Fallon mutters.

"You sure you don't want to go to the med bay?"

"I can handle this myself," Fallon replies. "Just give me a boost."

I scramble to tuck myself into the shadows as I hear hands on the ladder, then two shadowy figures appear on the other side of the door. It opens, and I hold my breath, praying they won't scent me.

"Fuck, dude, did you bring her here?" the other guy's voice sounds.

"Of course I didn't," Fallon replies. "What do you think I am, suicidal?"

I hold my breath and steady my racing heart, terrified they'll catch me. I don't know what will happen; all I know is that I don't trust Rafe. And if Hawk is the one with Fallon right now, I know whose side he's on.

Hawk hums. "Sorry, it just smells like--"

"I need some rest," Fallon cuts him off. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Right," Hawk says, then takes a step. "Rest up, asshole."

I hear him leave, and the door shuts behind him. Everything goes quiet for a minute, and then a light switches on in the watchtower. I hear the blinds close one by one, and a pained hiss of breath from Fallon.

Then he raises his voice. "You can come out now."

I cautiously crawl out of hiding, standing up and pulling my hood off of my hair. "Fallon..."

"Yeah," he says, rustling around in a first aid kit in the corner. "That's me...which makes sense, because this is my place. The question is what areyoudoing here?"

I bite my lip, swallowing hard. "Fallon, Rafe is going to hurt you if you stay here. You have to get off of the Raft."

Fallon huffs out a laugh, his blond hair falling over his eyes. "Rafe won't hurt me."

"I saw you," I whisper. "I saw him beating you."

Fallon turns toward me, his green eyes dulled by pain. He's got a bottle of painkillers in his hand, rattling softly. "That wasn't shit," he says. "I've gotten it worse from him before. Rafe would never kill me."

"But he's awful."

"He's not," Fallon retorts. "You just don't know him."

I watch as he limps over to the bed, then sits down with a wince. He pops a couple of the painkillers into his mouth and swallows them dry, then beckons me over. "I need to pop my shoulder back in," he says. "Give me a hand?"

I lose my breath as I step forward. "How?"

"Just grab my arm here," he says, moving his trembling hand. "Don't worry, I won't bite."

I can't say that would be a deterrent, given how he has my heat rising.

---