Page 12 of Cleat Heat

There’s a cheerleader that needs accosting.

And a little flier that needs knotting.

My knuckles crack as I lock them together, trying very fucking hard not to wrap my fingers around the little beta, Tam’s, throat as he fixes his almond-shaped eyes on me with amusement.

“I don’t think she would want me to give you her address,” he gloats with a smug smile across his face, knowing that I’m not above begging or buying it off him. Hell, just getting her phone number from the dude yesterday was a hassle and a half.

How angry would Vivi be if I put her friend in the ground? Probably pretty mad…

“She’s my mate, damn it,” I growl harshly. Frustration pulses at my temples, and he must catch my murderous intent because suddenly, his face blanches, and he reaches for his bag. The beta fumbles around in there. Hopefully searching for his phone to get me the information. He better be. A growl builds in my throat, and I do my best to keep it under control.

“You’re not her mate,” a snide voice calls from behind Tam. A short brunette stalks over to us, rolling her shoulders back while thrusting her breasts in my direction. The hair on my arms stands straight up when she slowly flicks her eyes up and down my body, licking her lips.

Gag. Just no.

Batting her eyelashes ridiculously, she continues, “When she didn’t show up today, I told her real mate, Marcel, that she missed practice.”

Who the hell is Marcel?

That name sounds familiar… Running a hand through my hair, my mind drifts back to the day I first met my little flier. The way her long white-blond hair caught my eye in a sea of people. How my instincts pushed me to get closer to her, to protect her from the crowd that seemed not to notice how special she was as they bumped her about. The piece-of-shit Alpha who was puffed up like a peacock—thanking me for helping out his omega. And I had needed to walk away to avoid ripping off his arms and beating him with the bloody stumps.

Not yours. Mine. All mine.

That’s right. His name was Marcel. I hate that name.

Sounds like the name of a dead man.

“Are you fucking serious, Maureen?” Tam shouts at her. His mouth is open, and the blood has completely drained from his face. Unease crawls up my spine. Something is so very wrong here. Tam searches his bag frantically, now dumping the contents into the bright green grass. He falls to his knees, sifting through it all in a panic, and I follow him to the ground.

“What is the big freaking deal? Like yeah, she’s an omega, but I don’t get why you’re all panting after the little bitch. Like she isn’t even that pretty,” the female complains. “Marcel pays me to text him constant updates about her.”

My hands continue frantically searching through the beta’s sweaty clothes, barely noticing his underwear and smelly socks when her words register. My head snaps up, and I pierce her with my gaze.

“What do you mean?” I snarl.

“Yeah, like I send him pics. And he always asks if she seems like she’s feeling okay. I told him yesterday she seemed off and stuff. Today, Tam said she was sick, so I told him. It’s literally what he pays me for. The money’s good too,” she says, with a laugh and a flip of her hair. So proud of herself. If I weren’t so worried about getting to Vivi, I would teach her a damn lesson. It’s clear that she knows this is a tremendous breach of trust.

“She broke up with him months ago when he threatened to bond her. She didn’t want him then, and she hates him even more now. And you’ve been helping him STALK her?” Tam shouts, anger twisting his features. Maureen just giggles and rolls her eyes, unaffected by the danger she’s put my omega in.

My pulse pounds in my ears, and my stomach drops.

Must move faster.

Lifting a dark maroon hoodie from Tam’s bag that’s heavier than it should be, I give it a violent shake, letting out a huge whoop as a black phone comes sailing out of the pocket.

With faster reflexes than I would have expected of a beta; Tam bounces up to snag it from the air. Quickly unlocking it and scrolling for her address as we both get to our feet. Somehow this cunt, Maureen, still hasn’t taken a hint, and she sidles up next to me, rubbing herself along my arm.

“Fox, you don’t need to waste your time helping that snobby little omega. I’ve been knot training, so there’s nothing she can give you that I can’t,” she attempts to purr at me. Pure instinct and revulsion rip through my veins, and I pull away from her, using much more force than necessary to shove her away. Her arms pinwheel as she spins like a cartoon character. One revolution, two, before the bitch plops onto her ass. It would be funny if my omega weren’t in danger.

Tam quickly hands me his phone, and I forward Vivi’s contact info, complete with her address, to my cell, which is currently in the locker room. Glancing at the time, I realize we only have a few minutes before the scrimmage begins. The team will be fine without me… but what about without our whole pack?

Should I tell them Vivi’s in danger? Indecision twists my gut. Marcel wasn’t a big Alpha; I could easily squash him like a bug—but does he have a pack? What if he brought backup to take her? Fuck.

They’ll never forgive me if I leave them behind, and our omega pays the price. Letting out a whistle, I know I’ve made the right decision when their heads snap in my direction. I gesture to the exit and know they can feel my concern spiking down the bond.

It’s time to get the hell out of here. We have an omega to save.

Consequences be damned.

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