I can’t help it, I lean down, fully intending to get a taste of my omega, but then there’s a finger being pressed against my lips.
“Nuh-uh, Darlin’,” Jo tsks. “Can’t have you ruinin’ my makeup. I’m supposed to be Luka and Illya’s omega, remember?”
A small growl rumbles in my chest, making me grimace as she arches a brow at me. “Sorry. I know. My alpha still doesn’t like the sound of it, though.”
“No touchin’ beyond what is absolutely necessary, and if everythin’ goes accordin’ to plan, we’ll be home in time for dessert.” Her eyes dart from my eyes to my lips.
“Oh? And what exactly is for dessert?”
“Mmm, you, hopefully—”
“I’m…I’m just gonna go.” Mabel’s small voice, with the same Southern twang as Jo’s, speaks up from the bathroom doorway, and I wince. I completely forgot she had come over to help Jo with her hair.
“Sorry, Mabel.” I take a step back from Jo. “I can leave, give you more time to—”
Jo gasps as she looks at her sister, her hand flying up to her mouth. “Mabel May Harding!Whatdid you do?”
I frown, looking between the sisters, confused as to what has Jo so shocked.
That is, until Mabel self-consciously runs her hand over her hair. I guess itisquite a bit shorter.
“It’s stupid, ain’t it?” She gives a nervous laugh, shaking her head. “I shoulda had someone else do it, but…but I picked up the curlin’ iron, thinkin’ it might be fun to do my hair like I used to…but then I heardtheirvoices, tellin’ me how much they loved mylong hair. Next thing I knew, a pair of scissors was in my hands, and I had hacked half of it off.”
“Oh, Mabel-Cakes,no,” Jo goes to her sister, her fingers running through the strands of hair that look like they were cut off rather violently. They hit right at her shoulders, and I’m no hairdresser, but…she’ll probably need to get that touched up. “The length suits you, it’s just…why did we spend our childhoods givin’ each other haircuts if you weren’t gonna let me put my practical skills to use?”
Mabel sniffs, a watery laugh leaving her. “I’m sorry, Jo. I don’t know what came over me.”
“You’re takin’ your life back,” Jo says sternly, holding Mabel by the arms and looking at her. “Nobody owns you. Not Daddy, not your old pack, and not Thornfield. If you wanna cut your hair, you cut your hair. Just…have some supervision next time, okay? And maybe your darlin’ sister to help shape up the back.”
Both girls giggle as Jo wraps her arms around Mabel. My little sister-in-law wipes the tears from her eyes, sniffing again. “Could you…do you have time to help me even it out? I don’t wanna go back to the house lookin’ like I was attacked by a chainsaw.”
Jo quickly glances at the time on her phone. “I got twenty, let’s go.”
They disappear into the bathroom, shutting the door behind them, and then Sam comes into the room, frowning as he looks around. “Where’s Jo? Isn’t she ready?”
He’s in a suit and tie borrowed from one of Declan’s pack mates, and though it doesn’t fit him exactly, he passes perfectly as the hired security for “Illya and Luka’s new omega.”
Gag.
“She’s cutting Mabel’s hair.” The corner of my lips tilt up at the thought of the two of them together, finally. Jo’s caretaker side comes out full-force when she’s with Mabel.
“She’s…” He shakes his head, dumbstruck. “Why is she cutting Mabel’s hair? We have to leave here in fifteen minutes.”
“Mabel…ahh—” I wince, not sure what I’m allowed to say about the private moment I witnessed. Probably nothing. So I aim for…diplomatic. “She decided it was best to part ways…with…her hair,” I finish lamely, shrugging. “I guess they used to cut each other’s hair growing up, so Jo knows what she’s doing.”
“I just…” He sighs, shaking his head. “Nevermind. So, uh…how are you holding up?”
I frown, my hand sliding into my pocket to grasp my lighter. “Holding up?”
He gives me a look. “Hayden. You watched a man get his brain blown out earlier today.”
“Yeah, well, he deserved it,” I mutter, even as my stomach turns at the memory. Thatwaspretty gross.
“I agree.” Sam nods. “But…I don’t know, man. You’re not used to all the killing, and I just want to make sure you’re doing okay.”
“I’m fine.” It’s not a lie. I’m fine about the killing—that’s not what’s bothering me, weirdly enough. It’s the fact that we’re sending our omega straight into enemy territory yet again. Can she handle herself? Of course she can. But she also has a habit of letting her temper get the better of her. It’s hot as fuck, watching her on the warpath, but only when it won’t potentially get her killed.
At least I can feel her emotions. Though…I’d feel a hell of a lot better if the others could feel her too.
