Page 96 of Lyric & the Heartbeats

“Yeah. According to this, there’s no pattern, no discernible connection between victims other than their omega status. They all look different too. And it’s almost like it’s spread all over the country, because omegas are disappearing from everywhere, not just one area! Seriously, how could they—”

“Desi,” Nohen hissed. “Stop it, you’re making her nervous.”

Desi swallowed the rest of her rant, glancing to Lyric with a furrowed expression. “Lyric, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. You don’t have to worry about any of it—you’ve got a bus full of alphas and two scrappy betas who are ready to kick some ass.”

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it.” Lyric waved her off, but the uneasy feeling persisted.

Happy thoughts, Lyric chanted. What had she been thinking about before?

Alpha dates. Dates with her alphas. Right—

Locking her phone, Lyric placed it in her lap and went back to staring out the window.

Maybe next time they cou—

A deafening boom interrupted her thoughts and cleared her mind as fear stole the place of her daydreams. Everything after happened in a split second.

The entire bus rocked to the right, and she threw her hands out, one bracing her against the table and the other gripping the back of the couch. To her left, Henry threw an arm over her chest, the action striking her in the heart harder than she was thrown against his forearm.

The bus righted itself, and she jostled back into place as it rumbled down the highway.

Her pulse raced as it bounced and rocked along down the highway, too fast for her comfort, the rumble of the bus deafening. There was another sound too, a rhythmic rattling that shook the bus.

“Satanic wheel of fortune, anyone?” Nohen asked dryly.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Henry glance down at her hand at the same time she did. Her knuckles were white from her tight grip on the table.

After the terrifying talk about the omega kidnappings, and now this? What the fuck was going on?

“What’s going on?” she shouted.

“Blown tire,” Henry called back, something akin to boredom in his tone.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Lyric growled. “Is this not exciting enough for you?”

His lips quirked into a half smile, and she swore right then and there that if she made it off the damned bus alive, she’d strangle him.

They quickly coasted to a stop on the side of the highway, traffic blasting past them. Once they were stopped, she froze for a solid ten seconds longer and then leapt into motion, following Henry and the others off the bus.

She crossed her arms to hide the way her hands shook. It was loud outside the bus, the whir of cars zipping by intensified by her anxiety. The driver followed them out, Wilson, a competent man she’d met several times before but otherwise missed completely.

Which made sense. He drove while she slept, and she played on stage while he rested for the next drive.

“Good news. I’ve already called it in.”

Henry narrowed his eyes. “Good news… meaning there’s bad news, yes?”

Lyric’s stomach turned with nerves, and a warm hand smoothed over her shoulder. She leaned into the touch without thinking, only knowing that she needed to lean on someone for a bit. But the faint scent of marshmallow sweetness washed over her, and her shoulders relaxed a fraction.

Wilson ran a hand over the back of his head. He was a weathered man, stocky and with a beer belly, but he had a kind twinkle in his eye. For now, the twinkle was absent as stress lines dipped with his furrowed brows. “Yes, bad news. There’s not a truck service for a few hours.”

“Fuck.” Henry ran both hands through his hair, the tattoos on his arm standing out starkly in the bright sunshine.

“What are we gonna do?” Lyric asked.

Henry turned his gaze to her, his brows molded in the form of a glare that eased as soon as he saw the concern on her face.

“It’ll be okay,” he said, and pulled his phone from his back pocket. “I’ll make it work.”