Faith & the Dead End Devils (Sweet Omegaverse, #8)(58)

Bear's hand tightened on my shoulder, Chance's fingers linking with mine, and King answered my stare with his own. The truth was out now, for better or worse.





22. BEAR





“I can't find shit about this," King muttered, the lenses of his glasses reflecting the bright screen of his laptop. It didn't matter; I knew he was glaring.

"Were you expecting to find information about a global sex-trafficking ring on the internet?" I asked. Not that I hadn't done a little searching myself.

His lips twisted in a deep scowl and he tore his glasses off, massaging his temples with white-knuckled fingers.

"We knew it had to be fuckin' big if she was too scared to go to the Omega Center or a hospital," I pointed out.

King heaved a sigh and dropped his glasses and hands to his desk. "I was hoping she was just…terrified."

Maybe I had been too. Maybe part of me had thought it'd been some shady, but small-scale ring we could sweep out of our territory. But the facilities Faith had described—trembling in my hold—had medical staff and surveillance and hormonal drugs to try and induce her heat. Maybe one of those things would've been believable. All of it combined, all the information she'd offered, led to a huge conspiracy-level organization.

"You think…Preston…"

King scoffed and shook his head, sagging back in his chair. Then he paused and groaned. "Fuck, I don't know. Maybe?"

I'd walked in on him and Faith earlier. She'd been mindless, and he hadn't been much more lucid, a shattered moan hanging from his lips as he'd fucked her like he would die the moment he stopped.

He was back to his usual self now, or close to it, at least. But I'd seen that control snap for once. I wasn't entirely sure if King would crumble or if he really did have the willpower to walk away from Faith. The last thing I wanted was for him to break her heart, but I'd seen enough signs in the past few weeks to guess he wasn't half the cold bastard I'd seen in him before now.

"At least not at an organizational level. Potential customer, maybe," he admitted, brow tangling. I released a soft growl, and King shook his head. "I'm not saying I thought he was the kind of guy who'd buy an omega, I just can't see him higher up the food chain than that. Obviously, I didn't—Never mind. Mistakes were made."

"So we've got the Wasted sniffing around for her," I said, raising one finger, and then adding a second. "This big box store of omega traffickers. Think Preston will become a problem?"

"He's the least of my concerns on that list," King said.

Which wasn't a no. Fuck.

"We have to figure out how to handle the club," he continued.

"Handle them?" I asked.

He arched an eyebrow at me. "I've ordered fucking cleaners to help breeze out some of her scent, but you don't seriously think you can keep an omega under wraps in this place, do you? We need the guys back if we're gonna stand a chance against even the Wasted. And as soon as they realize she's here…"

"Molly or I can get Faith mild suppressants, enough to chill her scent out," I said, trying not to laugh as King wrinkled his nose. Fucker was already addicted to her, I could tell. How fast had he run upstairs when he'd heard her screaming in her nightmare? "We can try and pass her as a beta, but…"

King's jaw clenched. "But?"

"But she'll need to be mine," I said, feigning calm, holding his stare. "She's not going to be club ass. And you're right. I can't hide her in here, and I can't be here and worry about her hiding somewhere else. Hell, we can say she's a beta and my old lady, if she's willing to take stronger suppressants."

King was quiet, eyes flicking back and forth over my face. "And Chance and me?" he asked.

Caught you, I thought, but I refused to savor my victory, at least not in front of King when he might get the urge to punch me in the face.

"You'd have to back off," I said, shrugging. It was the biggest fucking bluff I could come up with, and Faith would probably bite me again if she'd heard it. She and Chance were completely smitten with one another, one-hundred percent wrapped around each other's fingers. She'd never let him slip out the door. I rolled my eyes up to the ceiling, feigning thought. "Or…"

King growled.

"Or we tell the club the truth about her. That she was what we grabbed in the truck raid. That she's an omega, and that she's the exclusive property of the three of us," I said. "And that if anyone has a problem with it, they can take it up with us."

King twisted in his seat, glaring daggers at the wall, probably daydreaming about strangling the shit out of me.

And I felt a bit guilty. I was telling him he either had to jeopardize angering the rest of the club, attract more negative attention, and probably give Rider a leg up in his campaign…or admit that now that he'd touched Faith, he didn't want to fucking stop.

King's worst feelings about pack and omegas were true. My loyalties had shifted. I had sworn myself to the brotherhood of the Dead End Devils, and now that bond was fracturing in favor of a new one, all biology and instinct and hindbrain. But Faith was mine in all but bite now, and I would not give her up.

"Get out," King muttered. "I need to think."