Page 18 of Stream Heat
I found Reid’s number. His voice drifted back,Not because you’re an Omega who needs saving. Because you’re KaraQuinn, and you deserve better than being destroyed by this industry's bullshit.
I called before I could change my mind.
He answered fast. “Quinn?”
“Your offer,” I managed, voice nearly gone. “Does it still stand?”
A beat. “Yes.”
“I have conditions.” Maybe it was the last bit of pride left in me, but I spat them out anyway: “Separate rooms. No actual scenting. Purely business arrangement.”
“Understood.”
“And I need a doctor. Someone discreet. Someone who won’t report the illegal suppressants.”
Another careful pause. “We can arrange that.”
I clamped my eyes shut, running on empty. “How soon can you get here?”
“We never left,” Reid said. “We’re in the parking lot.”
Of course they were. I wanted to laugh, and the sound came out all wrong. “Fine. Two minutes, then.”
He hung up.
I let my phone fall to the floor. I should have felt humiliated, or defeated, but all I felt was this deep, aching relief. After eight years of burning every bridge so no one could hurt me, the only way out was trusting five Alphas I’d spent my career smack talking.
The universe really didn’t know when to quit, huh.
When the knock came again, I couldn’t move. The wave of withdrawal had hit harder this time leaving me a shaking mess on the bathroom floor. A moment later, Reid’s scent washed over the apartment as he knelt beside me.
“I’ve got you,” he said, quiet and solid, arms sliding under me like there was nothing left of me to carry.
I ought to fight. I should want to. But I just turned my face into his shoulder, breathing him in. My body didn’t care about pride or winning leverage wars online. It only cared about not dying, and right now, that meant letting go.
Tomorrow, I could remember who I was. Tomorrow, I could rebuild everything. But for tonight, Reid carried me out to where the others waited, and I let it happen.
For the first time in a long, long time, I wasn’t alone.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Kara
I wasn’t proud of the way I fell apart.
Twenty-four hours ago, if someone had told me I’d end up carried around by five Alphas in some kind of pack parade, I’d have laughed. Hell, I probably would’ve made a meal out of that story for the next six months. But now? Now I was clinging to Reid like my life depended on it, head tucked against his neck so tight you’d have to pry me off. It was like I couldn’t actually breathe unless I was inhaling every ounce of his scent. Pathetic. Welcome to my new low.
"Her fever's getting worse," Reid muttered, his voice low and grim. The reply came from Malik, which tracked with the hit of spice in the air, cardamom and something cleaner, something herbal, like a tea I couldn't name.
"Suppressant withdrawal," Malik said, totally deadpan, like this happened every day. His hand was cold against my burning forehead. "We need fluids. And something for the fever. She must not have taken any of the meds we left for her."
There was a time, not even that long ago, when I would’ve had something savage to say about the way they were talking over my head, but my body had different ideas. Another tremorripped through me, burning all the way to my fingertips, lighting every nerve on fire. The sound I made, high and desperate, felt like it belonged to a stranger. I barely recognized it as my own.
Reid must have felt it. "It's okay," he rumbled, voice so deep and steady it was almost hypnotic. "We've got you. Just breathe."
Everything blurred after that. The drive, the voices circling around me, the way the world dissolved every time I closed my eyes.
"--doctor on standby–"
