Page 142 of Slick Handling

Griffin is so focused on driving I’m not sure he realizes we’re sliding until the car is corrected with a sound that tires absolutely shouldn’t make.

No one says anything about it as we take several more turns before he pulls up behind Vaughn’s father.

Vaughn’s dad is outside, a pair of binoculars in his hands as he stares at the ornate house just out of view.

We’re in a part of town that used to be popular with the original families. Big money properties that display wealth are perched on private lots of lands that resemble English countryside manors.

This particular house is in slight disrepair, obviously not used in a while.

“I saw your Omega try to make an escape. One of the men dragged her back in.” He doesn’t greet us, just gets into things, “You’re not going to be happy when you see her. They haven’t been treating her right.” His honesty is a knife to my stomach.

Haven’t been treating her right?

What have they done to her?

“I’m going to kill them.” Growls Griffin, stepping forward.

A hand reaches out to stop him from advancing and Vaughn’s father finally puts down his binoculars. He looks at the Alpha in front of him and shakes his head.

It’s not condescending, but more of letting him know that he can’t just barge in there like a bull in a China Shop.

“I’m going to call the police. That way we can say that we reached out to them if things get out of hand. You’re a pack. That’s your Omega. Whatever happens in there you will be protected. I will make sure of it.” He lets go of Griffin, stepping away as he pulls out his phone, “In this part of town, with the storm we’re having, I’d say you have ten minutes.”

We’re already drenched by the time we are at the front door. I don’t know why we expected it to be open. It’s of course locked when Griffin tries to yank it open.

I hope the storm covers the sound of the yanking of the door. Griffin is tugging at it. Making war with the wood as it doesn’t give an inch.

Vaughn pulls him back, watching the way that our pack mate looks like he is about to break down. Instead of letting Griffin cry, probably what he needs to do, Vaughn points to a window that is partially open.

We all seem to look at it, forming a plan in our heads. Apollo reaches for Griffin, raising him up so he can grab the ledge of the roof covering the front porch we’re standing on. He struggles for a grip in the rain for a second before seeming to get a good hold.

Apollo pushes him as Griffin tugs, rolling on the roof. We all stand, watching him peer into the room before nodding that it’s all clear. He reaches his hand down as Apollo goes for Vaughn next, helping him up. Then I’m on the roof, moving into the room as quietly as possible with Vaughn behind me. Since Apollo is the tallest he can stand on the banister. Vaughn and Griffin each grab an arm to help lift him up.

The room I’m standing in must have once been a bedroom. There is an air mattress that is blown up in it now but no other furniture is inside. The hardwood floors need to be cleaned because they hold dirt that is so old it’s almost sticky underfoot. The yellowed floral wallpaper has lighter spots where pictures must have once hung. As a whole, the room is chilling and unwelcome. Perfect for a horror movie and terrible if this is the state of the place our Omega has been held in.

Obviously, since there is an air mattress in here, someone has recently slept in here.

It didn’t smell like Clover.

One by one, the Alpha’s crawled through the small window. The floors were getting soaked from the rain that was dripping off of them. All of us staying quiet as we tried to figure out what was happening in the house.

Carefully, I moved towards the door. My heart is hammering in my chest. I didn’t want to step on a loose plank and give up the advantage we had of sneaking up on them. It wasn’t that I was afraid of Pack Weaver. I was concerned someone was close to Clover and could hurt her in an attempt to control us.

She was everything and we couldn’t risk hurting her.

“…her heat is starting. We just fuck her through her heat, bite her, and she’s ours. Once she’s bitten in no one can take her away from us.” Someone is talking close enough that I can hear snippets of their conversation.

Over my dead body will I let her be bonded into someone else’s pack.

She’s meant to be ours. I think she wants to be ours too.

“I don’t think we should bond her. Why do we even need an Omega?”

“We need an Omega to center our pack. She’ll do whatever you ask of her Orion. She’ll have your little Alpha pups.” Sneers a woman in response. “It’s clear Bryce isn’t giving her up. Even if she let those other fuckers have her.”

“You’re right. I’m not giving her up. If you have a problem with adding her to our pack I highly suggest you change your attitude. She’s going to be our Omega. That’s final.”

I hope all of these people step on Lego pieces every day for the rest of their lives.

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