Faith & the Dead End Devils (Sweet Omegaverse, #8)(2)
King nodded, seemingly satisfied. "Open it."
Not volunteering his own ass, of course. But to their credit, neither he nor Chance stepped back as I took the keys I'd pulled from the van ignition and approached the door.
"We'll need the prospects to grab the product fast, pack it in the van," Chance said.
The key slid in, lock resistant as I turned it. King's question about explosives rang with the buzz of my injured ear drum, my hand steady even as my heart hammered in my chest.
But there was no beep, no quiet tick, no warning sound but a low, thin whine as I pulled the handle. The scent of burnt almonds clawed its way out of the crack. Momentum carried the heavy door open, even as my brain caught up with my instincts.
Slam it shut. Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck.
"Holy shit," Chance breathed, standing at my left. He peered into the open back of the truck, at the lattice of thin metal and the figure caught behind.
To the girl curled up in the cage.
King shifted, and Chance stepped out of his way without being asked, while I remained stupidly frozen in place. His breath hitched at the sight of the cowering creature, a mess of dark hair and long, pale legs in a stained black T-shirt. There was a glimpse of an eye so dilated, it was almost pure black peeking through the tangled strands. I couldn't hear her over my injury, but I knew by the way she was vibrating that she was warning us with a soft, wounded sound to stay away.
"How many?" King asked, voice flat.
"One," I said without opening the door any farther.
One ragged, angry, dangerous perfume. One omega in a cage.
The fucking delivery the Wasted were waiting on was an omega.
"The fuck," Ghost said, arriving at our small crowd. My shoulders went up to my ears, and I wanted to shove both King and Ghost out of the way. Chance too, for good measure, even if he was a beta. "Is that a fucking—"
"Ghost, get everyone out of sight," King said. "Take them round to the end of the tunnel. Bear…get her in the truck. Chance and I will load your bike in the back. Go directly back to your room. Wait for me."
"He's not taking her back to—" Chance started, voice cracking with anger.
And me? I was sick with relief. Yes, get the other brothers away from here. Get Ghost and King away from here. Find a way to get the omega out of the cage, get her somewhere safe, and—
"Do you suggest we leave a trafficked omega on the side of the road until the Wasted show up? If their plan is to sell her, they'll end up with pockets deep enough to buy us out of Dead End," King said.
My head whipped to stare at him, but his face was impassive, eyes meeting mine squarely and unapologetically. Heartless.
"And if she's meant for personal use, then…we're doing our good deed for the year," King added, mouth flat and humorless.
Ghost stared with a strange kind of horror into the cage for a moment before turning on his heel to follow orders.
"I'll…get the bike," Chance said, backing away.
King and I remained standing, staring at one another.
"Do you have something you'd like to say?" he asked.
My mouth opened, but my thoughts caught up first. He'd ordered the others away, for me to take the omega out of the cage and get her back to my rooms at the club. I knew why he'd chosen me. I was the only one of us with experience around omegas. My eyes flicked into the dark of the van, one eye staring back at me through thick brown hair. She hadn't said a word to us, hadn't uncurled from the floor.
King wasn't threatening to leave her behind for the Wasted to find, and he wasn't celebrating the sudden acquisition of an omega. He was making sure the other brothers hadn't seen her, didn't know there was an omega in a cage, who'd been about to be served up to a scumbag motorcycle crew. One new, but not so very different from our own.
Not that we'd ever ordered ourselves an illegally trafficked omega.
"No," I said, shaking my head. I glanced at the girl again. "It's going to take me a minute before I can get her out."
King didn't look at her again. "Quick as you can," he said. "Don't want the others getting curious."
I nodded, but I waited for him to join Chance before opening the door any farther. The omega winced and tucked her face to the floor at the sudden glare of sunlight.
"Hey…hey there…" I stalled out on what to call her as I studied her. Her spine was creating a line of ridges through the back of her T-shirt, and there were bruises all up and down her arms and an irritated ring around her swollen right ankle. I had to swallow my growl three times before I could speak again, my eyes latching onto a small tattoo on her uninjured left ankle.
"Hey Butterfly," I said, staring at the black and red dainty design of wings on her pale skin. I stepped slowly closer, perching on the open back of the van. It sank under my weight, and she trembled. "It's all right," I said, trying to make my natural gritty voice sound soothing. "I know I'm an alpha, Butterfly, but I'm not going to hurt you. Just wanna get you out of that cage."
She twisted, and I held my breath at the sight of her face. She was pretty, all delicate and feminine with big, dark eyes. Her stare wouldn't meet mine, and she kept squinting, like the light bothered her eyes. I tried not to think about what that meant for how long she'd been in a cage.