“You guys are assholes,” I mutter, stabbing another piece of pancake.
“Yeah, but you love ‘em anyway, right?” Jo grins, leaning into me slightly.
I can’t help but smile. There’s nothing but affection for my pack lighting up the bond right now, and they all know it.
“They’re fine, I guess.”
Hayden winks at me, chewing. “Right back at you, Daddy-O.”
thirty-two
Jo
It’s time to make a game plan.
Things have been tense ever since Mabel had her sleepwalking episode, but after Doctor McFadden gave her a different prescription, she hasn’t had any more night terrors and seems to be sleeping reasonably well.
Declan finally started talking to me again yesterday, and we’re officially two days away from D-Day. Which means that tomorrow is our deadline to deliver Brooks to Xavier, and we need to make sure he reacts exactly like we want him to when he thinks we’re not complying.
We’re sitting in Declan’s living room—Dec, his pack, me and my guys, Ozzy, Illya, Luka, Alexei, and Roland. He’s not smelling very strong at all, and I suspect it’s because Helaena helped him out with some good old-fashion scent suppressing cream.
“You’ve reached out to Leslie?” Sam asks West, who nods.
“Yes, and she’s in.”
“Oh, thank fuck,” I sigh, falling against the couch. “Did she question anythin’?”
“No, because it turns out they’ve been holding something over her as well. It’s her condition on helping us—we have to get her nephew to safety first.”
“Her nephew?” Hayden’s brows shoot up.
West nods again. “Her sister died five years ago, and she’s been raising him ever since—she has special permission to live off-campus and everything. I guess shortly after we left, she started digging deeper into the situation, and then Thornfield threatened her nephew’s life if she said anything or went anywhere with the information. So before we get her help, we have to guarantee her nephew’s safety.”
“Done.” It’s Ozzy who speaks from the corner of the room. He glances at Fuzzy, who stands. “We’ll secure the boy, make sure he’s safe.”
We? I look between the two men. I suppose it would make sense for the two of them to have formed a friendship, considering they’re of similar ages and have been housemates the last few weeks.
Sam frowns. “Dad, you’re retired—”
“Retired, not dead. At least not yet. Let me do my part to help.”
“But—”
Fuzzy huffs. “Come on, Sam. Your dad’s still got a few good years in him. It’ll keep us busy, at the very least.”
“I don’t have a problem with it,” Declan shrugs. “You were here mostly for consult anyway—this way we don’t have to pull men from other positions to cover the new task.”
Sam nods once, his mouth in a tight line.
My hand reaches over to squeeze his arm. I know how close Sam is to his daddy, and it must be hard to willingly send him off into danger when he thought he was done with that life. Sam’s hand covers mine, even as he keeps his eyes on the group.
“After we secure the nephew—”
“Hudson,” West interrupts. “That’s his name.”
Sam continues, “We will need to time it precisely with when we’re going in, so there’s no time for them to figure out what’s going on. Immediately after we secure Hudson, we’ll move in. Jo, Hayden, West, and I will cause a distraction—”
“While we,” Kole motions between him, Luka, Illya, and Alexei, “sweep the lab to make sure there are no new or lingering omegas.”
