Page 78 of Shaken Knot Stirred

“Street-grade suppressants. Top shelf black market,” she explained. I snatched a towel Moxie had laid out for me. She tipped a blue pill out on the counter and cut it up with a razor blade that she had conveniently stashed in the bottle.

She put a tiny chip in her mouth and then took a second. She held one out for me.

I took it and pretended to examine it carefully. When she turned back to pack up her drug kit, I dropped it down the drain.

What I did was awful, unspeakable. No matter what Moxie said, it was unforgivable. Suppressants wouldn’t have saved her. I could only hope they wouldn’t save Beg either.

Moxie pressed herself to me, her arm reached around my waist. I angled myself so my cock wasn’t touching her.

“Kinky as this is,” she raised my cuffed wrist and kissed my palm, “let’s see if we can get you out of them. You’ve got bolt cutters in that garage, right?”

“Sure.” I mumbled. She stepped back and hiked up the towel around her before going off to find clothes.

I sniffed my palm. The only scent there was Lana’s soap. When she’d first perfumed, I’d been a billion percent positive we’d be scent matches. I waited day after day. The internet said you just “knew” an omega was your scent match. Omegas usually matched with packs, but it could happen between individuals. Ihad figured it might take some time to develop. Maybe you had to go through heat first.

It never happened. It took Beg making us pack with his nasty pine scent coating me to make her my scent match.

I turned my back to the mirror. I couldn’t stand to look at myself.

Chapter 43

Lana

I opened the doorjust wide enough to slip through. I knew the Vig would be mostly empty. Everyone was packing the warehouse space tonight. You could already hear the screaming through the walls.

“Did you get JP in a fight yet?” Beg’s voice burned right through my skin. He was standing in front of our apartment door.

“No. I came up to change.” Last year, he made me wear a full evening gown. He scanned me from head to toe. Even after allthis time, I hated his eyes on me. I clutched the ring in my pocket like it could protect me.

“I’m a good alpha. I buy you dresses, clothes. You never wear them. So disrespectful.”

“Your taste is not great.” The words came out stunted and shaky on a ripple of fear. He took a fast step toward me. His snarl competed with a muted roar from the crowd downstairs. It took every ounce of strength I had not to step back.

“Ain’t that the truth? You always look like an anime bad guy come to life.” Moxie turned the corner, coming up from the garage. She tucked a soda bottle in the crook of her arm and hefted the bolt cutters onto her shoulder. She was wearing a hoodie and leggings. Her hair was wet, all stringy and dull looking. But she looked unharmed. I choked back the wave of relief at seeing her. Beg and his constant menace were the only thing keeping me from melting into a puddle of tears in relief.

Beg examined her with disappointment, of all things, like he wasn’t expecting her to be here. My skin crawled. I hated sharing a bond with Beg.

“Moxie, you made it through the night. Now that I know you’re that kind of girl, I’ll set up some dates for you. You’ll pay off that debt in no time.”

He hadn’t been expecting her to be in one piece. My eyes went wide. What had Beg done to her?

“My debt is paid, Beg. You got what you wanted.”

“Next time I’ll sell tickets.”

“You simply must work on your banter. This is ridiculous. You’re supposed to be the Mired District’s crime lord. A middle schooler has better comebacks.” Moxie rolled her eyes and pointed the bolt cutters at him.

The apartment door flew open. Nico was wearing a gray tailored suit. His pristine white shirt was open at the collar witha tie hanging loose. He looked impassive and bored, and the pack bond between us was utterly silent, scaring me even more.

“Oh, let me,” Moxie said brightly, shoving the bolt cutters and soda at Beg like she was giving him her purse to hold. Expertly, she tied Nico’s tie, smoothing it down his chest with a pat. She snatched the soda back, but Beg held on to the bolt cutters. They each had a grip on it.

“We’ll just leave them. It’ll be a fashion statement.” Nico shook his wrist, showing off a broken handcuff.

Beg ripped the bolt cutters out of Moxie’s grasp. I sidestepped as he chucked them past me. He roughly pulled out his wad of keys and wedged a little one off the ring, tossing it to Nico.

“Fun little pack meeting, but we have work to do,” Beg said. Nico unlocked the cuffs and tossed them at Beg’s feet.

Whatever had happened, Beg was thrown off by the outcome. He had come up here to gloat, to rub salt in wounds.

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