Page 41 of The Omega Lesson

His face softens as he thinks of his mate. “What do you think he’s doing right now?”

“Probably something with a sledgehammer,” I mutter, hiding his bite back under his collar. Mattie snickers, but I can’t force a smile, because Noah was visibly horrified when he drove us back to the cottage last night. I thought he’d just dump me and run, but he spent half an hour fiddling with my door and window locks, then another hour on his phone talking to his builder. When Ben and Jack finally left, Noah refused to go, and we all managed to cram into my bed. There was no room – or energy – to do more than share a few tired kisses. I was positive we’d all end up on the floor in the middle of the night – either by design, or because we fell out of the tiny bed - but somehow, we slept through, and Noah was inspecting the back garden when Mattie and I left for school.

“We should introduce him to Dennis tonight,” Mattie says with another snigger. Dennis is the tree snake that lives in the ruins of the outdoor toilet at the bottom of the garden. “Although, Noah’s a country boy. He’s probably already sent him packing back to The Wet.”

I snort and start collecting my things when my phone lights up with a call. It’s a number I don’t recognise, but when I answer, my heart dips. “Miss Novak, it’s Kara Wood, Bree’s teacher.”

“Yes, Kara. Hi. Is everything okay?”

“Well, I just wanted to let you know Bree took a tumble on the playground today. She was on the big kids’ climbing frame and fell off. She was sick – vomiting – so the principal took her to urgent care.”

“Is she alright?” I croak, the room swimming in front of me. Bree hates throwing up; it always makes her cry. Mattie grabs my arm, but I’m so numb I can barely feel it. “Is she still at urgent care?”

“Well, yes. She has a bad sprain according to the school nurse, but since she was unconscious for a little while…”

“What?”I screech, almost dropping the phone. Unconscious? Does she have a head injury? A concussion? Every horror story I’ve ever read suddenly flashes through my mind. “When was this? Why didn’t you call me right away?”

“It’s school policy to call the guardian, not every emergency contact on the list…”

Red dots explode on my vision. “I don’t care about your policy, Kara! She’smychild! Is Richard with her now?”

“I only spoke to Moira…”

Richard’s fucking omega. I’m shaking so hard I can barely get the words out. “Tell me at least one of her parents is at the hospital with her.”

“I’m sorry, Miss Novak…”

I’m too furious to listen to her half-hearted apologies, and push the phone at Mattie. I hear him grabbing the details off Bree’s teacher while I lean against the edge of the desk and try not to pass out. When he rings off, his face is grim, but he pushes a bottle of water at me while he quickly texts something. Then he’s grabbing my bag and hustling me out the door. “Where are we going?” I gasp as he heads to the carpark. “I don’t have a car, Mattie.”

The realisation makes my chest throb even more. What if Bree was at my house when she hurt herself and I didn’t have any way to get her to the hospital? My insurance doesn’t include ambulance cover, and the thought of packing her into the back of an Uber makes me want to weep.

Jesus, how the fuck is this my life?

“It’s okay. She’s gonna be fine, babe,” Mattie croons as he half carries me down the path. There are a few day boys heading home and they all stare at us curiously, but I couldn’t give a fuck. If I could just turn back time and save my baby from hurting herself, I’d happily accept any amount of bullshit gossip. “There he is!”

Mattie is pointing at a sleek aquamarine car that’s roaring into the lot. It’s kicking up a spray of gravel in its wake, and all those gawking schoolboys are flocking towards it like bees to honey. But I stare at it numbly as it rips to a stop in front of us, one of the doors lifting up and out like a butterfly wing. “Come on, sweetheart,” Noah says from the driver’s seat. “Mattie, you’re in the back.”

We slide into the low seats and the engine roars again, making the circle of onlookers leap back. I barely notice, the buzzing in my head so loud it takes me a moment before I can reach over and touch Noah’s arm. “Thank you. I didn’t know how to get there…”

“Not a problem, sweetheart. Mattie said it’s The Royal Hospital, so I’ll get you to her in less than ten minutes. Just sit back and try not to worry.”

I nod, even though that’s impossible.God, please let her be okay.I know she must be in good hands, surrounded by doctors and nurses, but what if she’s asking for me? Bree’s never been to a hospital before. She’s probably terrified…

“Babe, your breathing is messed up. Come on, crawl into the back with me.”

I shouldn’t, not least of all, because I’m a fanatic about road safety. But I ignore the sensible voice in my head and climb over the console and into his lap. Mattie pulls the seatbelt around us both and presses my head to his chest. I pull at the top buttons of his shirt until I can feel his skin, taking a huge gulp of his minty scent like it’s novocaine for my soul.

“Tell me her favourite colour,” he whispers against my hair. “And her favourite song. If we went to the zoo tomorrow, what animal would she want to see first?”

I hiccup the first answer, even though she might not like red anymore. But the last time she came over, she was wearing ribbons and shoes in that colour.

“Good taste,” Noah murmurs from the front, and I realise the upholstery in his car is cherry red. “What else does she like?”

“She likes monkeys. Curious George got her hooked, so that would definitely be her first stop at the zoo. And her favourite song is …oh, Country Roads. I mean, she likes all the kid’s stuff, but she really has a thing for John Denver.”

That gets them both humming, because Noah really is a country boy, and I’m pretty sure Mattie will do anything to make me smile right now.

I tell them everything and anything that comes to mind, like how she likes banana ice cream, but not strawberry, and how she insists I make a blanket fort every time she comes over, because there’s no point in having a potbelly stove if you’re not going to camp in front of it. Most of what she tells me is baby babble and make-believe, but sometimes she sounds a lot older than four, and I wonder if Richard is trying to make her grow up too fast.

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