Page 69 of Wanted Beta

“Okay. We’re getting you checked out at the hospital, for starters.”

“What?” Jack asks. “No. No way. That emergency room is a nightmare. I’m not missing my gig to wait three hours to be told to take some ibuprofen and get some sleep, or whatever.”

He backs away from us and brings his phone out of his pocket.

“I need to be at The Terrace in twenty minutes to get set up and check the set list.”

And he thinks he’s not a Delta. Most Betas wouldn’t think twice about following along with whatever their Alpha decides. Jack has his own instincts, and he lets them lead him instead, much to our Alphas’ bemusement at times like these.

Enzo frowns at him. “You have a head injury, Jack. We need to get you to the ER.”

“After,” he says, heading for the door that leads to the apartment above the restaurant. “I promise. I’ll drink nothing but water, and I’ll let you guys take my equipment home, and I’ll spend as long as it takes in the ER then. Okay?”

Enzo lets out a growl, and Jack pauses at the apartment door.

“I’m fine.” He looks at me. “Tell Enzo I’m all good, Arrow. You did that thing with your hands, I can tell.”

I wouldn’t say he’s fine, exactly. He’s in pain, but it’s been dulled by my Omegas touch.

“I’ll know if he starts to feel bad,” I admit, knowing Jack’s already made up his mind and there’s nothing about how he’s feeling that makes me think he’ll be pushing himself too hard.

He’s hyped about the gig. Despite what just happened, he still wants to do this.

“I gave Beth a ticket to The Terrace,” Jack adds, while Enzo is still frowning over his ignored insistence to take him to the hospital. “Maybe we don’t know where she went, but there’s a decent chance she’ll show up there. That’s better than nothing.”

It is, especially considering how Enzo feels about fate and coincidences.

Any mate of ours is meant to be around us, all of us, as much as possible.

She’ll be drawn to The Terrace tonight, even if she isn’t sure why.

I have no doubt about that.

I catch a hint of relief from Enzo before his shoulders relax.

“Fine,” he grumbles. “We’re going to The Terrace, but don’t even think about carrying anything. I’ll take care of your equipment, and your guitar.”

Those last three words make Jack wince, but he doesn’t attempt to protest.

He can tell Enzo isn’t kidding around.

“I’ll carry the guitar,” I tell them both.

Enzo frowns at me as Jack smiles.

“What?” I ask. “It’s not like it’s heavy, and the case makes it easy.”

“You need to keep your punching hand free,” Jack adds. “In case we run into that asshole.”

Our overprotective Alpha lets out a weary sigh. “Arrow can carry the guitar.”

“Good,” Jack says. “We should get moving.”

He opens the door to the apartment and flips on the staircase light switch.

The lights flicker a little, making some vaguely concerning noises before they come on.

Jack heads up the stairs, and Enzo holds the door open for me to follow our Delta up the stairs.

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