Page 160 of Traded

I’m fuckinghallucinating.

Swaying, I bang my head on the door of the cubicle and swear. A fist bangs against the door. “Rosie’s in trouble, Cart. Get your fucking ass out here!”

My legs can’t hold me up. I stumble again, just like I did on the rink before my knees hit the ice hard enough to give me another year of fucking treatment.

The door bangs, and hands drag me out. Swearing, I try to push them off, but they shove me up against the mirror with a crash. “What thefuckis wrong with you? Didn’t you hear me?”

Boone stares at me wildly, searching my face before he releases my jersey with a snarl of disgust. “You’re high.”

“’m not.” I stumble around him to wash my hands, scrubbing at my face with the cold water until some fucking clarity re-enters my brain. “Fuck off, will you?”

“I’ll bring him. Go with Reid.” The pretty asshole steps up beside Boone. The fucker swears at me before striding out, slamming the door behind him hard enough that it bounces off the hinges.

“You can fuck off too.” I toss more water on my face. Christ, it’s hot.

“Rosie’s hurt,” Navarro says slowly. My eyes raise to meet his in the mirror.

“Rosie’s fine.” She’s upstairs, waiting for me to come and take her home so I can finally tell Liam and Jonas that we’re done. Over. “Fucking ghosts.”

“Lookat me.” I grunt as he yanks me back. Navarro grabs my face, pinching it. “You feel that? This is fucking real, Reynolds. I don’t know what shit you’ve taken, but your omega’s down the hall with a torn mating mark in her neck, and the only person not fucking worried isyou!”

I pause. “You’re not real.”

“Jesus,” he breathes, stepping back. “Think about this. You really want to take the risk that I’m not?”

It takes me a minute to work out his meaning. My thoughts feel like fucking treacle.

Rosie.

My legs lose their strength again, and Navarro hauls me up. “Fucking hell.”

“Rosie.” I slur her name. “She’s hurt.”

He drags me out of the bathroom, shoving me down the hall as I weave like a sailor on land for the first time in years. “Keep going.”

I steady myself against a photo from the last team shoot, staring at my face. Navarro’s reflection looms behind me, the glass cold beneath my fingers.

Real.

It’s fucking real.

I take off without another word. Navarro keeps pace with me, shoving me down the Aces hall when I slow. “Down here.”

There’s a crowd of people gathered around a doorway, and a roar from inside propels me forward. People step out of my way as I charge through with Navarro on my heels, skidding to a stop in the doorway.

Boone has Liam’s neck in a grip against the wall, his knuckles bleeding as he pulls back and hits him again.

Nobody is stopping him. The weirdest fucking line-up I’ve ever seen stares at me, and I stare back. “What the fuck?”

A small sob comes from behind Benji. “Carter.”

My heart stops. Everything fucking stops. The line shifts to let me through as I dive forward, landing on my knees. “Ro?”

Her head is in Lauren’s lap. The other omega looks up, her lips bloodless. “She needs help, but she won’t let anyone close. It’s bad, Carter.”

My fingers brush against the marks, and she whimpers.

“Baby,” I whisper raggedly.