Page 36 of Hunted Omega: Part Two

I nod, allowing him to guide me back toward the salon. As we walk, I bend to retrieve my fallen phone, wincing at the cracked screen. Willow’s voice is still coming through, calling my name faintly.

Once inside, Quinn flips on the lights, the sudden brightness making me squint. He leads me to a chair, the plastic cool against my back. He crouches in front of me, placing his hands on my knees, a comforting weight.

“Take a deep breath,” he instructs, his voice calm and steady. “That’s it. Now, can you tell me what’s going on? I promise I won’t make a single hair pun if you do.”

I take a shuddering breath, torn between the urge to spill everything and the instinct to protect myself—and Quinn—by keeping my secrets. “It’s… complicated,” I murmur. “Someone from my past, someone I thought I’d never have to deal with again…”

He isn’t happy with my reply. A voice whispers,You wouldn’t want them to lie to you,in my head, and I swear it sounds like Aunt Sara.

She’d be right.

Licking my lips, I press a finger to Quinn’s mouth just as he is about to say something. His lips are soft against my skin, and for a moment, I’m distracted by the sensation, but then reality crashes back in. “My ex is here. In town. Cayenne found him. He came for me.”

The words hang in the air between us, heavy with implication. Quinn’s eyes widen, and a mix of emotions flashes across his face—concern, anger, and something else I can’t quite name. As the weight of my confession settles over us, I realize that everything is about to change. Again.

“Aria,” Quinn says, his voice low and serious, all traces of humor gone. “Whatever this is, whatever he wants, you aren’t alone. We’ve got your back, all of us, and this time, I fucking mean it when I say that.”

I nod, feeling a strange mix of fear and gratitude. As Quinn pulls me into a comforting hug, my body tenses involuntarily. The warmth of his embrace battles with the cold dread in my stomach, and my mind races, torn between the safety of this moment and the looming threat of my past.

“I… I don’t know what to do,” I whisper, my voice muffled against his chest. His scent wraps around me.

Quinn pulls back slightly, his hands moving to cup my face. His eyes, usually sparkling with mischief, are now dark with determination. “We’ll figure it out together, step by step, like debugging a complex code. We’ll identify the problem, break it down, and solve it piece by piece.”

His words, framed in the tech speak that’s so quintessentially Quinn, bring a small smile to my lips despite everything. It’s so him, trying to make sense of this chaos in a way he understands.

“Okay,” I murmur, nodding slowly. “Okay, but Quinn, you don’t know what he’s capable of. What if?—”

“No what-ifs,” he interrupts gently. “We deal with what’s in front of us. Right now, that means getting you somewhere safe and letting the others know what’s going on.”

Quinn’s words are reassuring, but a part of me still hesitates. I’ve spent so long running, hiding, and trying to protect myself. The idea of letting others in, of potentially putting them in danger, makes my stomach churn.

“I… I need to call Willow back,” I say, glancing at my cracked phone screen. “She’s probably worried sick.”

Quinn nods, releasing me from his embrace but keeping one hand on my arm. “Of course. Do you want me to step outside?”

I shake my head. “No, please stay.” The words come out more desperate than I intended, and I see a flicker of concern in Quinn’s eyes.

With trembling fingers, I dial Willow’s number. She picks up on the first ring.

“Aria! Thank God. Are you okay? Where are you?” Her voice is tight with worry.

“I’m… I’m okay,” I say, though the tremor in my voice betrays me. “I’m with Quinn. At the salon.”

There’s a pause on the other end of the line. “Quinn? Okay. Good. You’re not alone. Listen, Aria, don’t leave Quinn’s side.”

I close my eyes, taking a deep breath. “Okay.” It’s all I can manage, because right now, it feels that every time I feel a flicker of hope, Noah is there to shatter it all.

18

ARIA

The world feels off-kilter,like I’m walking on shifting sand. My thoughts spin in a dizzying whirlpool of fear and disbelief. The scent of fresh paint and new beginnings that seemed so promising earlier now feels sickeningly sweet, almost mocking.

“Aria, breathe,” Quinn says softly. His eyes are full of concern, but there’s a calm steadiness there, too, that helps anchor me. “You’re safe right now. We’re going to figure this out.”

I nod, though my hands are shaking as I clutch the armrests. The cool, smooth plastic under my fingers contrasts with the warmth of Quinn’s touch. For a moment, I let myself imagine what it would be like to always have this—to always have someone to lean on. The thought is both terrifying and exhilarating.

He crouches in front of me, his expression softening. “I’m going to call the others, okay? We need their help.”

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