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Audrey pops to her feet like a jack in a box, not needing another suggestion to vacate my presence.
“Good night, Felix,” she says before turning on her heel and fleeing to her room like she ran from me in the elevator the first night I really saw her.
“Be up by six,” I call after her.
I have a sudden need to show the world she is a part of my pack. The plan was to let her settle in a few days first, but plans change, you have to stay fluid to survive.
She flips me off without looking back, and Felix chuckles. As soon as the door clicks shut, I can hear the mechanics that secure it from the inside whirling into place.
“I like her.”
“Hands off, Felix. The pack thing is only for show.” I open the liquor cabinet and pour a tumbler of bourbon. I don’t bother offering any to Felix because his vice is not drinking or drugs.
“Does that mean I’m supposed to treat her like shit while she is here? I was trying to make her comfortable in this fucked up situation. What do you even need her to do?”
“Of course not,” I say, answering his first question. “I’m sorry, it’s been a long day.”
When I sink into the armchair, he shifts on the floor over to my feet and lays his head on my knee. It soothes me to run my fingers through his silky hair, and he sighs happily.
“Whatever it is, it’s not going to get her killed, right?”
“No. I won’t let anything happen to her,” I promise. But it is dangerous, I just happen to think she will be able to manage it.
“Good.”
He trails his fingers up my slacks, over the seam in the middle, and I gently remove his hand, placing it on my other knee before my body could react.
“Not tonight.”
It wouldn’t be right, because I have been semi-hard all day just from the reminder of the omega pressed against me this morning. If I accept Felix’s touch, I can’t guarantee I would think about him while fucking him, and that isn’t a line I am crossing.
He rubs a circle over my knee before lifting his head to look up at me. “You can tell me what you need her for. I know it has something to do with stealing something, and if you think the police chief won’t pretend I know something just to get his hands on me, you haven’t been paying attention to the bastard. So just tell me. I can help protect her.”
I press my lips together. Saint and I have talked about this. We are trying to keep Felix out of it. But he is right. If Audrey is caught, all of us are going down. It wouldn’t hurt to have him informed, at least not now.
“We are going after the Fairchild painting.”
His eyes go wide, and he sits straight, falling back on his heels. “In the Valentine’s safe?” He sounds like he is repeating something he heard. When I nod, he inhales. “Melody Lynn knows you are looking for it.”
“She thinks she knows. She was fishing the other night, attempting to get a reaction. But it is a race to see who can get it first. I’ve hired both Garrett Quinn and Jason Vanross. Garrett will handle the lock, and Jason used to be employed by the Valentines. He knows the layout of his apartment.”
“Jason Vanross, can you really trust a guy that is turning on his old boss?”
I take a sip of the bourbon and shrug. Probably not. But we only need him for the layout and then, after that, I couldn’t care less if he helps Melody or Carmichael.
“Valentine will gut anyone that is caught. This is dangerous.”
“With Saint on the security cameras, our secret weapon Audrey in the vault, and Garrett Quinn the best lock pick on the East coast, we will be in and out faster than he could respond.” Felix glances at the omega’s shut door, and I can read the worry on his face. “She’s tough. She almost took out my eye today before I could get the upper hand. Our omega isn’t like other omegas.”
“That has a nice ring to it. Our omega.”
“We’re not keeping her.”
“Good thing she’s a person and not a dog then,” he quips and stands up. “I’m going to bed. Six in the morning comes fast.”
I can’t help the feeling that he is upset with me. And he proves it when he turns away without a goodnight kiss and heads to his room. He’ll get over it. After his door shuts, I stand up and lower the lights so I can look out of the windows into the dark sky beyond and settle back into the chair with a new pour of bourbon. I’m lost in my thoughts as I finish the drink.
Is the painting really worth all of this? My dad would think it was. My mom insists it is. I would leave it where it is if it were up to me. But this last thing, if I do it, can break me free of that life. My mom’s new husband will take over the reins. And he knows what needs to be done. He had been my dad’s right-hand man.
