Page 40 of Puck Your Charity

I pull away from Finn's supporting arm. My hands shake pulling the device from my pocket. The bright screen blinds my tired eyes.

Three incoming texts from Chloe glow on the display.

Chloe: I have the kids. I packed a bag. We left the house.

Chloe: I'm at mom's place right now. You know she’s already complaining.

Chloe: Olive, please answer me.

A deep breath tears out of my throat. Relief washes over my chest. She believed me. She took the kids and ran. She left him. The suffocating anxiety about my nieces sharing a roof with that predator vanishes.

A fresh tear slips down my cheek. I wipe it away with the back of my hand.

"Olive?" Lawrence keeps his voice low and steady. "What happened? You look like you want to collapse."

I lock my phone screen. The three Alphas standing around me look tense. Their protective instincts radiate off their skin, eager for a target.

"My sister texted me." I grip the phone tight. "She took her kids. She left her husband. They drove to my mother's house."

Finn frowns. "The brother-in-law. We knew he lived there. Is he the reason you ran?"

"He trapped me in the kitchen." The confession spills out of my mouth before I can stop it. "He waited for my sister to leave. He made disgusting comments about my new status. He told me an unbonded Omega begs for any cock they can get. He tried to grab me."

The temperature in the kitchen drops ten degrees.

The collective Alpha energy in the room darkens. A vicious, unified snarl rips through the space. Finn bares his teeth, his hands balling into fists. Lawrence loses his charming playboy mask. His brown eyes turn black with murderous intent. Malcolm stills, a terrifying, silent rage rolling off his towering frame.

Even Victor shifts in the hallway. A feral growl vibrates in his chest. His hands grip the wooden doorframe hard enough to splinter the paint.

The suffocating dominance in the room makes my knees buckle.

"I smashed a mug into his face." I rush the words out, desperate to break the violent tension. "I fought him off. I escaped. He burned his face on hot coffee."

"I plan to burn a lot more than his face." Lawrence bares his teeth, his voice dripping with venom.

Finn turns toward the garage door. "I'll break his spine."

Panic spikes in my chest. A pack of millionaire athletes catching murder charges on my behalf ruins everything. I need a distraction. I need to change the subject right now to stop them from hunting Rick down.

"My stuff." I point a shaking finger toward the hallway. "My storage unit. I have to figure out my storage unit."

Finn stops in his tracks. He turns back to look at me.

"I keep my entire life locked inside a metal box across town." I force the panic into my voice, using the mundane mess of my apartment to distract them. "All my furniture. All my clothes. I used a cheap padlock for the door, and I don't have the cash for next month's rent. I can't leave my things there."

The shift in topic works. The Alphas drop their focus on Rick. The murderous rage recedes, replaced by the immediate need to provide for their distressed Omega.

Malcolm takes a step. He stands in front of me. His towering frame blocks out the rest of the kitchen.

"You look exhausted." Malcolm keeps his voice low and steady. "It's getting late, and we have morning skate tomorrow. Just write down the access code and give us the locker key. I'll hire a moving crew to head over there tomorrow after practice. They can clear the whole unit out and bring everything here to the east wing. You won't have to lift a single box."

My independent Beta mindset screams in protest. Handing over the key surrenders the last shred of control I possess over my life. Taking their help forces me to admit I need a pack to survive.

But my exhausted bones beg for surrender. The idea of dragging boxes up a flight of stairs makes me want to weep.

Looking into Malcolm's dark, steady eyes, I see a shield. He wants to carry the burden for me.

I reach into my pocket. My fingers brush against the cold metal key.