Page 31 of Into the Fire: After
Brooks threw down the dish he’d been scrubbing into the sink, face red, eyes irate. He rounded the counter to meet Vikki’s gaze.
“You knownothingif you think what we’re feeling right now isfrustration.” He swiped the back of his soapy hands across his forehead, leaving a few suds at his hairline. “The three people we care most about in the world have their heads in fucking guillotines, all to giveyouthe chance to get the edge on these fuckers. And all the while, all you tell us is that your bestie texts you every hour so all is well.” He scoffed, running those same sudsy hands through his curls. “With all due disrespect, fuck you.”
He stormed up the stairs, and one of the doors slammed shut. My heart clenched.
“Shit,” Vikki hissed, gliding her own fingers through her short hair. She sat back up. “I’m sorry. Really. I wish I had more. I wish I could give you both something to do or a definitive timeline. But it’s a matter of waiting for my person inside to get the chip and plug it in so I can connect. There’s, truly, nothing we can do until then.
“But the fact that contact is steady,” she continued. “That’s a really good sign. All three of them are still alive and well. Relatively speaking, anyway.”
I sighed, tensing my crossed arms even more. “I know.”
Vikki stood, walking around the counter to meet me. She mirrored my stance, arms crossed, worried eyes cast upwards where Brooks had fled. “I promise you,” she said softly, “my number one goal is keeping everyone safe. Taryn, Caine, Lin, all of you.” She looked sideways toward me. “Buteveryoneisn’tjustyou, either. It’s all the vulnerable omegas who’ve been hurt before, and the ones that Wainwright will hurt in the future if we don’t do something now.”
Her eyes were earnest, from the upturned brow to the dark shadows that spoke to her constant vigil at the monitors. The wrinkled t-shirt and yoga pants she’d been wearing for days.
Vikki cared.
But she didn’t care about the same things we did.
I nodded at her with a tight smile. Without a word, I stepped toward the staircase, following my beta’s angry pheromones to a closed door on the hall. I didn’t knock—I didn’t trust him to give even me permission to enter, and I wasn’t waiting.
It wasn’t a bedroom he’d retreated to, but a library. Small, cozy if the mood were different. A pitched ceiling and plush carpet, dark colors and soft surfaces. The fireplace sat cold on one wall, while built-in shelves covered every other. Two small windows sat over two cushioned window seats, deep burgundy curtains tied back that would make them their own little worlds when they were loose.
All the pieces were mismatched, but in a unified kind of way.
Kind of like our packs, I supposed.
Brooks sat on the black velvet loveseat, legs curled up and arms wrapped around them, his forehead pressed against his knees. I eased the door shut, and he simply shook his head into his knees. “I can’t believe I let her do this.” The words were muffled, but I still caught the warble in his voice.
A teensy, tiny part of me wanted to gloat in his guilt. On multiple occasions I’d been tempted to knock him out like I almost had on the rooftop patio the first night we all met. He would actually deserve it this time.
Except he didn’t.
The plush cushion threatened to swallow me as I sat beside him. I grabbed one of his hands that clawed at his bent legs, and unfurled the fingers so I could thread them through mine. “Since when have any of usletTaryn do anything?” I asked, trying to infuse even a little levity into my tone.
Must’ve worked. Brooks chuckled before giving a wet sniffle. His head turned so he could look at me, laid atop his knees. “She could sass the frown off a clown, without a doubt.”
I smirked, stroking his curls away from his eyes. “She could charm a frog from a bog.”
“Could woo a coo all the way to the loo.” He loosed a heavy sigh as he sat up, bent knees falling open so he could cross his legs on the deep-set sofa cushion. His hand never released mine. “And probably still write a better kids’ book than we could.”
I smiled. “Probably.”
My draw to Brooks was different than the rest. He was a beautiful man, there was no denying it. And, sure, sharing a bed with him and the rest of our pack sure hadn’t sucked thus far. But when it was just him and me, I didn’t yearn to undress him or touch him in any way other than to soothe his worries.
I loved him as much as I did the others. Just somewhat differently. My sweet beta, my friend.
He looked up at me, those beautiful hazel eyes so heartbreakingly sad I nearly wept on sight. “Vikki doesn’t care about Taryn,” he said softly. “Or Lin, or Caine. She won’t fight to get them out.”
My thumb smoothed across the back of his hand. “She cares…in the way that she cares. But you’re right,” I whispered, cutting off his reply. “Which means we need to make some plans of our own.”
Vikkihungupthephone with a muttered curse before downing her coffee.
My heart pounded against my chest. “What is it?”
She sighed. “The others are safe. That was my connect inside the DA’s office. They’re as impatient as the two of you for an update.”
I doubted that very highly, but I held my tongue.
