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“If you want us to slap a restraining order on the Black Dogs,” the cop says, “then you have to give a formal statement.”
“Then it will have to wait,” I say. “Smell that?”
The two cops share a glance between them.
“I was going to say,” one of them mutters, “is your friend okay?”
“Casey is going into heat,” Grey says, “so the formal statements will have to wait. If you could just make sure they don’t come after us, we have to get Casey through his heat. Then we can answer more questions.”
Normally, heats are private matters, taken care of within a pack, if possible. If the omega is without a pack, they can call a hotline for temporary partners who can help her or him through the heat.
But there’s no hiding the glazed look on Casey’s face, his flushed cheeks, the bulge in his pants, and of course his scent. Or the wild eyes of our two alphas.
“We can post a police car outside your place of residence,” the cop says, “if you give us the address.”
“We’ll be staying at my place,” Zayne says, his voice such a deep growl I almost jump. “It’s a big apartment,” he says when Ronin starts objecting. “And you have another roommate. Whereas I live on my own. Privacy is important right now, plus the Black Dogs and Casey’s family don’t know my address.”
Grey and I share a look and nod. Meanwhile, Ronin is growling at the alpha cops, marking his territory, his pack and his omega, so he’s not much use right now.
It’s almost funny. Our two big alphas are turning into beasts. Entering beast-mode. All that’s left for them to do is piss in a circle around us and thump their chests like urban gorillas.
“We’re going to Zayne’s place,” I say. “He’s right. That’s the best solution.”
“Then give us your address,” the cop says, “and be on your way. It’s unsafe for an omega in heat to be on the street, and it’s likely to disrupt traffic, too. We’ll explain the situation to our chief.”
30
CASEY
Things are kinda fuzzy. I’m hot all over. My blood feels hot under my skin. My gut is cramping and my dick is hard and I have a pounding headache.
I know I was taken from the apartment. Someone had rung the bell and I didn’t think to check who it was before opening, thinking the building door had to be closed, thinking I was safe there. Who knows how they found me.
My siblings gagged me and secreted me away to the farm, and then I was given over to the Black Dogs. At that point, I was still mostly coherent. I felt kind of weird, overheated and dizzy, which may also explain why I just opened the door, not thinking clearly. I don’t do that sort of thing normally. I’m more careful.
But I had been restless and the blockers made my stomach hurt and I couldn’t concentrate on the designs I had to create. It frustrated the hell out of me. Without money, I couldn’t stay, and despite the alpha girl’s annoyance with me, I felt good here.
Because I liked Ronin and Gigi, and even Zayne, way too much. Another source of frustration.
Thing is, I opened that door and I was taken away, and let’s be honest, it was my own damn fault. I hadn’t realized I was going into my first heat.
Hadn’t even considered it. Growing up, I’d always been on suppressants. Probably why they didn’t work on me anymore. So I had no clue what a heat was supposed to feel like.
It made me easy prey.
At the farm, I resisted, I shouted, I pleaded with my family. I fought. Struggled against my alpha siblings, my father and mother. It made no difference. I ended up trussed up like a turkey and handed over to the assholes who insisted on having me in their pack against my will.
Passed from my asshole family to an asshole pack.
Just like I feared would happen.
Like a helpless little boy, like an animal, when I’ve worked hard to be strong and be able to fight back. One of the reasons I had taken the job at the gym was the chance to take some kickboxing classes there for free. Kickbox my brothers if they came for me.
Damn my bad luck. Figured they’d come for me right when preheat had me stumbling about like a drunken duck.
After that, things got even hazier.
I have flashes of the back of a car, then an apartment. Being tied to a bed.
