Page 45 of The Knotty Omega

Turning with a raised brow, I see a tiny old lady slightly hunched over in the hallway. She definitely was not there a minute ago, I think I would have noticed a caricature of a grandma complete with rollers in her hair and a bathrobe and bunny slippers hanging out in the hallway.

“Yes?” I ask, relaxing my shoulders and trying to make myself look as unimposing as possible.

“Are you one of the alphas Cady is staying with?”

“I am,” I give a curt nod, and the old woman sighs in relief.

“Oh thank goodness. I'm Jody Heisman, and I've had the cat the last two days. Can you please take Reggie back with you?”

“Reggie?” Oh fuck. The cat.

I’ve never been much of a cat person, hell, my family only owned dogs when I was growing up, but if this little guy is important to Cady, I’ll have to figure it out.

The old lady nods primly. “Yes, he’s quite the little asshole. He’s been trying to trip me up any chance he gets and I’m about two minutes from kicking the bastard.”

The language out of this woman is so shocking I have to suppress a snort as I nod. “Yeah, I can take him. He has a cat carrier right?”

“Oh, I don’t know dear, you’ll have to check her apartment.” With that, Mrs. Heisman turns and goes a little bit down the hall before disappearing into her apartment.

Well, I guess I’m not getting any recon done today. I find a cat carrier in Cady’s laundry room, and by the time the old lady comes back, I decide on buying a whole new litter box and having it delivered because I amnotdealing with that mess right now.

The relatively large black and white cat snarls and hisses at the old lady as she holds him under his front legs facing away from her, approaching me slowly.

I’m ready to get scratched to hell, but the weirdest thing is, as soon as the cat’s nose twitches and he smells me, he calms right the fuck down, allowing me to scoop him up. He’s as docile as a little lamb laying cradled in my arm, and the old lady gives him a murderous stare.

“Well you’re not so bad, are you, little guy?” I ask him, scratching under his chin.

He gives a rolling “Mrow!” and I shake my head, chuckling. Maybe Reggie and I will have more in common than I thought.

"You'll take care of her, won't you?" Mrs. Heisman asks suddenly, looking at me carefully. "She's a good girl. Always helped me carry my groceries up the stairs."

"We will, I promise," I tell her solemnly.

"Good." She nods. "Let me know if there's anything I can do to help."

***

“Reggie!” Cady gasps as I walk into the house with the little asshole perched on my shoulders. He definitely has an attitude, but he seems to like me well enough so he’s okay in my book.

“I went to your apartment, and your neighbor was rather eager to pass him off to me,” I explain as Reggie hops from my shoulder, circling Cady’s legs once before bounding off to explore his new home.

She watches after him with raised brows. “Wow. I can’t believe he’s not hissing in a corner right now.” She laughs almost nervously, before biting her lip. “I’m surprised you went back. Was there a specific reason that I should know about?”

Fuck, does she think I’m some kind of creep who likes to look at crime scenes of apartment break-ins? What do I tell her? That the need to make her safe again is taking over every instinct I have? That I want to find whoever threatened her so I can string them up and watch the terror in their eyes so I can have some semblance of satisfaction that they experienced a fraction of what they caused her to feel? That I’m half tempted to bond her right this fucking second just so I can feel if she’s ever in danger again?

“It’s my job,” I grunt and then want to kick myself for the way her face falls ever so slightly before she catches it.

“Right. Well, thanks anyway, I guess.” She gives me a forced smile before heading upstairs and I sigh, heading towards my home office. It’s better this way anyway. I can’t disappoint her if she doesn’t expect anything from me.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

“Ididn’t order this,” I raise my brow as I hold up the shimmery black top.

“I know, I did,” Ollie shrugs, grinning at me. He’s looking delicious in his sweatpants and muscle tank, tattoos on full display as he lounges in my nest with his hands behind his head. Reggie has made his home laying on Ollie's chest, and Ollie has affectionately dubbed him his "cat son". Surprisingly, Reggie likes every single member of my pack he's met so far.

I’m getting ready for my date with Simon, and all he told me was to wear something nice, but to make sure I have something covering my legs.

Which I thought was weird. Are we going to some strange super-conservative place where it’s considered trashy to have your ankles showing?

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