Faith & the Dead End Devils (Sweet Omegaverse, #8)(125)

It wasn't his fault Omikron had caught me in the shipping yard, drugged me unconscious, and dragged me away. Was I angry with Adam? Sometimes, in tiny ways. For making my life a battle. But I would've been angry if he'd left me behind too. There was no right answer, no solution to the life we'd found ourselves in.

"I love you," I said, reaching across the bar. "I love my pack." I recalled King talking about the future, about finding a home. I'd found mine in strong arms and bite marks and hungry kisses. But maybe there would be another, with warm lights in the windows and a porch swing.

"I love you," Adam echoed, squeezing my fingers roughly. "And I'm sorry. I won't ever let Omikron hurt you again. I'm so glad we're back together. And now we've got packs, and it's going to be so much easier to deal with them, and—"

"Adam!"

My brother and I stared at one another, our mouths both parted, and Grim glanced over briefly from the pool table, checking on us. My heart was in my throat, stealing my breath, and my cheeks burned.

"I can't," I whispered.

Adam remained frozen as I shook my head.

"I'm not going on the run again. I'm not chasing Omikron, or…or whoever. I can't," I said.

Adam's brow folded. "Oh. But…there are omegas out there still who need help."

I swallowed hard and resisted the urge to place my hand over my heart where I felt the feral clawing come alive. "I know. I know, I was one of them, but I…I can't, Adam. I'm sorry."

He sat back slightly, blinking and staring silently. The room was quiet, just the click of balls colliding, bumping into the edges of the pool table, falling with a snick into pockets.

"It's okay," Adam said at last, his shoulders sagging. He forced a smile to his lips, and slowly it relaxed into something real. "It's okay, of course. I want you to be happy. I always have. I just…got excited about being together again."

I rounded the bar and Adam turned on the stool to face me, arms opening and ready. He smelled like warm cookies, but also like cinnamon, gunsmoke, nectarine, and fresh herbs, like his pack. A pack who would fight the world, with him and for him.

"I know," I said, notching my chin over his shoulder as we hugged. "And we're not losing touch now. I'm not being stolen away or hidden."

Adam nodded and squeezed his arms around me. "Eve will love surprising your pack with unannounced visits."

I snorted. "Just don't bring fucking tear gas next time."

"No promises. We love dramatic flair," Adam said, leaning back and grinning at me. "I love you, kiddo."

"I love you, biggo," I answered, helping myself to the stool at his side, settling in to watch the game of pool.

Adam and I both caught our breath at the same time, reaching for our drinks.

"Fight's amping up. Everything okay on your end?" Adam asked me.

I nodded. "My team's good."

Our glasses clinked together at the same moment a rumble sounded from outside.

"Thunder?" Adam asked me.

But our guards all paused in their game of pool, and I shook my head. "They're not done yet," I called out, the eager animal in me pacing nervously. "It's not the Devils."

"Probably Wasted," Frost said, nodding to Grim and Mikey. "Go to them. Wave and I will check it out."

"Get down behind the bar," Grim said.

I grabbed Adam's arm, dragging him along with me. We had a plan. We had four men here to protect us. I needed to breathe.

"Hold up," Wave said, jogging to the edge of the room, sporting a grin. "It's just Skid. What are you doing back so soon, ass—"

I jumped at the echo of the sudden sharp cracks of sound in the room before my brain could translate their meaning. My eyes were fixed to Wave's body as it jerked back, a thin red cloud bursting from his chest. And then Frost's too.

Gunshots. Skid. Wave hit the floor, and Frost fell down behind a table, taking cover.

"Fuck, Mikey, take them into the kitchen," Grim shouted, shoving me and Adam after the beta before jumping up onto the bar.

Skid. Skid was one of the Devils. Those were his brothers reaching to their holsters, preparing to fire back. I gaped as Mikey and Adam dragged me through the swinging kitchen door, violent cracking bangs echoing behind us. Glass shattered on the bar, and I only managed to glance back once to see Grim firing into the room before I was pulled into the dark kitchen.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Mikey muttered, eyes swinging wildly around the room.

Adam snapped his fingers in front of Mikey's face. "We need to get out of here."

Mikey gasped and nodded, the panic solidifying into determination. "Back door. Run to the garage. The truck's still there."

"But Grim—"

"Grim knows what he's doing," Mikey said, grabbing my arm again, nodding at Adam. "He's gonna make sure I get you and your brother out safely. Fucking Skid," he spat.

Fucking Skid. "Call King," I breathed as we ran for the backdoor, the gunshots growing louder at our back.

"I will," Mikey answered.

"Call now!" I cried as Adam threw the door open. If Skid was here, had he led King and the others into a trap with the Wasted, selling out his own gang to their rivals?