Page 206 of Captive Omega

I haven’t been the same person since then.

“I wouldn’t have done it.” Vaughn’s shoulders slump. “But we just let her go. She might have been waiting for us to ask her to stay.”

“Do you really think that?”

“You mean choose to stay with us instead of going back to the life she must have wanted since some alpha grabbed her from a heat clinic?” He gives the punch bag a solid uppercut, dropping his left shoulder. I’ve seen him drop it before, but I recognize this is a new habit. A bad one. “No. I don’t.”

Neither do I. Prep work for the trial was a beast to manage. So many moving pieces, so many hours of work. But it all clicked together. Except the part involving Resa’s parents.

With a full name, a picture, and a long since closed missing person’s report, it hadn’t taken long to find them and let them know Resa would be speaking at the trial. The cops had them waiting in a side room so they could reunite privately after the trial.

The guilty verdict changed all that.

It was a verdict that everyone had seen coming but no one had believed would happen because alphas like Sloane Eddiswood don’t go to jail.

Now they do.

Resa had walked away with her parents. None of us know if she wants anything to do with us, so we’ve given her space, but there hasn’t been a day that I haven’t thought about her. I think we were all a little scared of outright asking her to stay and have her reject us.

Vaughn walks over to his drum kit, drops into the seat and reaches for the sticks.

He’s been noticeably quiet. He checks in with Ever Safe but hasn’t spoken about going back into work even though the cops failed to solve the shooting in the alley across the road. As long as no one connects the missing bodies to Vaughn, none of us cares.

Speaking of bodies…

He was ready to go after Resa’s ex-fiancé simply for existing. But a guy shoots a dart at Resa and Vaughn says nothing? I can only think of one reason why. “You went after him, didn’t you?”

He doesn’t slow his drumming. “What did you say?”

I walk over to him. “That Hancock Security guy who shot Resa, you killed him. Didn’t you?”

He drums for a few more seconds, then stops. “They hurt her.”

I tuck my hands in my pockets. “Does Garrison know?”

He shrugs. “He hasn’t asked.”

Which means he knows.

“When?”

He smirks. “Right before I found you hugging a bottle of vodka.”

My stomach clenches, and I swallow hard. Days later, and I’m still sweating vodka through my pores. “If I ever do something that stupid again, remind me of that, please.”

Vaughn doesn’t speak for several seconds. “She doesn’t blame you. You know that, right?”

There’s a reason I’ve been years dodging conversations with Vaughn. He goes right to the heart of the things I’d rather avoid. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I do.

Resa went into heat, and I couldn’t be what she needed. I was too busy freaking out at the thought of her seeing my scars. If there was any a time to prioritize someone else’s needs over my own, it was then. And I still couldn’t do it.

“Yes, you do,” he calls after me as I walk away. “Resa went into heat, and you drank yourself into a mess because?—”

“I couldn’t be what she needed,” I snap.

Crack.

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