Page 10 of Running on Empty

“What the hell did they do to you?” Ash tilted my head up so my gaze met his, but then he was inspecting my face, my body, looking everywhere but my eyes. I felt a flush of shame as he catalogued the evidence of the night before, and I jerked my head away and pulled the blanket tighter, curling into myself.

“Take me home,” I muttered. I didn’t care who might respond, be it Scarlett, or the guys. I just needed to get the fuck away from this club. Ash nodded, gesturing me towards one of their security vans that was parked in the alley. He strode forward and slid open the door, ushering me in, Scarlett getting in behind me.

Chapter6

“I’m not doing any more undercover work in that club,” Scarlett told them as we drove away. “I’m fucking not. That place is a beautifully designed hell hole and—”

“We get it, Scar,” Jax said, settling onto the bench seat beside me. I edged away slightly, and I saw his jaw tighten in response. “We can’t send any of our people back in there.”

“Well… good.”

“But thanks for all your hard work.” He shot her a look across the back of the van. “Couldn’t have found anything on Rush without you.”

“Rush…?”

My voice cracked then broke on the word. It was one of the things I remembered from Scarlett’s initial conversation.

“It’s OK, you—” Jax started to say.

“It’s what they gave you.” Her gaze was both merciless and kind as she stared at me. “It’s what they give all the omegas and most of the betas that dance there. Started up as some chemistry nerd’s attempt to replicate an omega’s heat, making it so a beta could experience it, but now…”

“Scar, enough.” Jax’s growl made me shiver.

“No.” My voice sounded like gravel being ground to sand. “Tell me.”

“They don’t have to worry about things like consent or anything.” Her lips formed a thin line. “It’s automatically given. The omegas I’ve talked to say it's more than going into heat, it's something else altogether. All you want to do is fuck.” I felt a low down ache at her words, as if my body was readying itself to do just that all over again, despite the pain. “You don’t care about food, water, breathing, your relationships, your job, nothing. Just fucking.”

“Which is why you need to drink this.” Jax pushed a cool bottle of water at me, but when he went to touch my forehead, I frowned. He froze and I snatched the water from him, cracking the lid and sculling it, the process of guzzling water a pleasure in and of itself.

But when I emptied it, what was left?

My eyes fell closed. They felt like they were laden down with weights, and my body started swaying with the movement of the van. Jax reached out to steady me but I pulled away. I lay down on the bench seat and wrapped the blanket tighter around me, my body locking into that tight curl I’d been used to sleeping in for safety when I was a kid, the familiarity of that ritual, the thrum of the engine allowing me to drop off into a strange grey haze.

The raspof the door sliding open had me jerking back to reality, but before I could move, Ronan was leaning into the van. His arms went under my legs and around my shoulders, hoisting me up into his arms and holding me close. I made a small sound of protest, and it caught his attention instantly.

“No.” I heard the shake in his voice, saw the flash of his fangs. “I need to do this right now and you need to let me.”

“Ronan, for fuck’s—” Ash said.

“I’ll take care of you, omega.”

I was weak, and so fucking tired. Everything hurt and the promise in his eyes was that he’d make it all better, so I found myself nodding in response. As he carried me towards the house, Ollie came running out to see us, tail wagging. But with the special sense of dogs, he caught the mood, and his tail drooped.

“I’ll take you home, Scar,” Ash offered.

“Don’t.” She looked pale, brittle. “I’ll get an Uber, but, Ash… You need to stop this shit.”

“We’re trying—”

“Try harder.”

Ronan didn’t wait around for the conversation to play out, continuing into their house, down the hall and into the bathroom.

This house had been a place of comfort for me during much of my childhood. Lois’ cooking, her soft voice, it would act like a balm on my soul, right before Mum started lacerating it again. So their combined scents in the dark gloom of the house with no lights flicked on, stirred something in me. Something that had me shifting restlessly in Ronan’s arms, wanting to throw myself down on the couch and hide under the pillows or march on out the front door, back to my own nest. That need manifested in a thin whine, more wolf than woman.

“Shh…” he told me, his voice gentle, the only evidence of tension in the way he slapped on the shower, then, as he tested the water temperature, in the way he stared. His eyes were as silver as the moon, shining bright in the bathroom, his lips pulling back in a tiny snarl, right before he set me down. I stood before the water dumbly, turning around to face him, wondering what the hell we were doing when he pushed me under the water.

“Ronan, we need samples—” Ash said from the doorway.

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