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I release a deep breath and hit my palm to the keypad, unlocking the door to the panic room. Only five people have access to our hidden sanctuary, but it’s only Holly who stays within the impenetrable walls.
I knock my knuckles on the second door, the first one intended to keep everyone out, and the second one intended to give my little sister privacy.
She calls out, inviting me in. “You’re early, Des. Did something happen?” Holly stretches her arms above her head, sitting up in her four-poster bed. The suite is just as big as ours, if not bigger, because if shit went down, a lot of us would be staying in here. “Did you get everything we need?” She’s been antsy, knowing that we’ve been stealing all illegal contraband that’s been transported within a two-hundred-mile radius of the palace. It’s the only way we’ll ever get shit the way we want.
“I need some clothes. Anything you don’t like, because they won’t be coming back. We’ll pick you up anything you want to replace it.” I tighten my jaw, bracing myself for her interrogation. She knows that I won’t indulge her by giving her the information about the contraband, because I leave that up to Wilder.
She frowns and narrows her hazel eyes at me, the scent of her suspicion bitter like black coffee. It’s one of the only things I can usually smell on her. “Why? What have you done?”
I bounce on my feet. “Come on, Holly. You know it’s better if you don’t know this kind of thing. Just let me have some of your clothes. I swear once Wilder gives me the word, I’ll tell you everything. But please, she has nothing.”
Holly tilts her head, staring at me. She challenges me because she knows that if she persists enough, I’ll give in. At least, I would usually if it didn’t involve a shitshow. The less she’s aware of, the better. I know my baby sister all too well that if she even suspects we have another omega, one unbonded and packless, she’ll get the wrong impression. She’ll automatically start matching us and...fuck. I need to get out of here.
“Please, little sis. I have shit to do,” I add, popping out my bottom lip to match hers.
“As soon as Wilder says? You promise?” she asks, batting her lashes. “I’ll kick your ass, rearrange your room, and spray my favorite perfume all over your shit if you break it.”
I chuckle, knowing she’ll stay true to her word. “I’ll help you do the same with Wilder.”
“Arsenio and Enzo, too.” Holly grins, the light in her eyes returning for the first time since we all agreed she would be hiding out in the panic room after shit went down.
“They’re going to kick my ass,” I mutter.
“Not if you keep your promise, big brother.” Holly steps back and spins, flinging her pale blond hair in my face. “Now, come on. You can grab a few things yourself. I’m sure the last thing you want is me touching them.”
I shake my head. “You’re ridiculous.”
“It’s just to remind you that you’re going to owe me. Massively.” Holly plops back down on her bed. “Forever.”
“No reminder necessary.” I head to her wardrobe and select a few modest garments, ensuring pants and long-sleeves for Kinsey. “And thanks.”
“Anything for my sweet brother. Just make sure the others know that they’re still on my shitlist.” Holly’s smile fades. “Tell Wilder he can’t avoid me forever.”
“I’ll do my best to get him to come by, okay?” I force my smile to remain, knowing that Wilder won’t until he knows he has good news. “Just hang tight. We’ll get it taken care of. I promise.”
If only I knew for certain that I could keep my word.
Chapter 6
Kinsey
Dickhead
Itapmyfingerson the small table, staring at the plate of cheese and fruit. I haven’t seen Desmond since I fell asleep, but when I woke up, there were new clothes draped over the back of the dining table chair, a plate of grazing food, a glass of water, and a couple of necessities for the bathroom.
I wish I would’ve checked the time before passing out, because I don’t know exactly how much time has passed. All I know is that it’s almost dusk, according to Desmond’s cell phone. I lift it from the table and stare at the screen for the twentieth time in the last hour. Do I need to text Enzo to ask for Desmond? No. Am I dying of boredom and just want some answers? Absolutely.
Sucking up my nerves, I type in the passcode and open the contacts.
Dickhead? Desmond has Enzo listed under dickhead? I guess I’ll find out.
Me: Where are you?
I stare at the screen for seemingly forever, wondering if I might’ve messed up and maybe clicked the wrong number. Swiping my finger, I scroll through the contact list, annoyed by the lack of familiar names. I recall the other two brothers being named Wilder and Arsenio, which neither are listed either.
The phone buzzes in my hand, flashingDickheadacross the screen.
Dickhead: Miss me?
