Page 106 of Captive Omega

“But they?—”

“No.” Garrison’s voice slices through Vaughn’s. “We help people. There is a reason I named Lucas Security after the man who saved my life, and it is not to take people out.”

Oh.

Now is not the time to be asking about this, but… “So that’s where the name came from?”

Garrison meets my eye. “I had a next-door neighbor when I was growing up. I wouldn’t be the man I am today without Detective Lucas Shaw. In fact, I would not be alive at all without him.” He refocuses on Vaughn and his voice softens, as does his expression. “I know you mean well, and I know you want to keep Resa safe, but this isn’t the way to do it.”

“And if they hit the house?” Vaughn asks.

Garrison squeezes his shoulder. “We’ll do what is necessary to defend ourselves. They’ll soon learn the error of their ways.” He focuses on Blaine. “Hancock Security. What do we know?”

“They closed their downtown office years ago and stopped taking on clients.” Blaine’s eyes flick from side to side as he scans his laptop monitor.

“If they were working exclusively for Nathaniel Lang, he must have been paying them big bucks,” Vaughn says, looking at me. “Killing isn’t easy.”

“But sometimes, it has to be done,” I say tightly. “Rupert needed to die.”

None of them asks what Rupert did to deserve his fate, but they can probably guess.

“I have something,” Blaine says, sounding distracted.

“What?”

“There’s a rumor Rupert got himself tied up with a dead hooker. He caused a scene in a club and she started talking to reporters, teasing them that she knew something juicy and would spill if they paid for it.”

Vaughn snorts. “And that right there is why we don’t take cases from wealthy alphas.”

I frown, confused. “Why? And how did she die?”

“Because they create a mess and expect someone else to clean it up for them,” Garrison explains. “It sounds like Nathaniel didn’t want the family name publicly tarnished by a blackmailer.”

“Well, he made sure of it. Someone fished her body from the river. Cops said it was a drowning, but her friends suspected foul play.” Blaine types for a couple of seconds then sits back in his seat and nudges his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

Vaughn whistles. “Nathaniel told Hancock Security to clean up his son’s mess, and that’s exactly what they did.”

I absorb the implications of that, and I gulp.

That’s me. A mess. It’s O’Brien’s job to clean up messes.

“Resa?” Concern softens Garrison’s voice.

I blink myself back into the present to discover everyone is looking at me.

“You look like you’re thinking hard,” Vaughn says slowly.

“That’s because I am.”

“About?” he prompts.

“Being a mess that needs cleaning up.” And how close I came to being one in the factory. If Nathaniel wasn’t so greedy, O’Brien would have shot me in the head and dumped my body weeks ago.

I’m a thing of value to Nathaniel Lang. Or I was. I’m not sure if that changed after I shoved Rupert to his death.

“But not about leaving?” Garrison’s question is quiet, but his stare is intense.

“I thought about leaving for a second,” I admit.

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