Page 6 of Enticing Little Omega (Twisted Little Tales #5)

Christa

I 'm not ashamed of how I reacted.

I could have fainted.

Screamed.

Thrown my damn handbag at them.

All of those would have been acceptable, yet a smidge more than mildly embarrassing.

So I opted for the option any sane Omega would take.

I ran like I was being chased by a monster from my nightmares.

Boots pounding pavement.

Breath hitching.

Heart roaring in my ears louder than the sound of Honey calling my name behind me.

I didn't care where I was going—I just needed to get away. Away from her. Away from them.

Away from everything.

By the time I stumbled into my apartment, I could barely breathe. My keys slipped once, twice, before I finally got the door open and slammed it shut behind me. I didn't bother locking it. If they could find me here in my safe haven, then no locked door would stop them.

I collapsed onto the bed, face-first, into the soft quilt Honey and I had made together last winter. My throat ached with unshed sobs, my limbs trembling from the effort it took to keep them inside.

I barely registered the sound of the front door swinging open again, or the soft pad of what could only be Honey's footsteps in the hallway.

But I heard her voice. All firm and furious.

"Look, I don't know how she knows you or why she looked like you climbed out of the bowels of hell, but now isn't the time. Get. Both of you."

Then the door clicked shut, and Honey was beside me, curling up behind me like she used to during storms. She didn't ask questions, didn't demand explanations.

She just... held on.

And when I finally turned over, eyes swollen, throat dry, heart shattered, I told her.

Everything.

Maybe not in perfect order, maybe not even in full sentences, but in starts and stops I shared my story.

The words tumbled out in a rush of jagged memories, old wounds and heartbreak.

And most importantly, the overwhelming loneliness of knowing I had a pack out there, a scent matched pack, and I'd run from them because nothing scared me more than being trapped by them.

Honey listened. Wide-eyed and silent, with tears sliding down her cheeks.

I didn't even realise I'd stopped talking until the silence became too loud to ignore.

I looked at her, not sure what to expect.

But as always, Honey surpassed all expectations.

"So? Want me to get my Daddies, and we'll get you out of here?"

And as she always did, Honey drew warm laughter from me when I thought everything inside me was dead and buried.

As my laughter died down, I stared at our joined hands, then let my eyes drift to the ceiling. My chest still ached, but the sharp panic had dulled to something slower, heavier.

Grief? Regret? Guilt?

"I can't avoid them forever," I said finally, the words tasting like sour in my mouth. "Marigold... the pack... I have to face them sometime."

Honey shifted beside me, propping herself up on one elbow. "Fine. But not tonight."

I blinked over at her, startled. "What?"

She gave me a look. One I was not used to getting from my soft, sweet friend. "Christa, lovely, you don't owe any of them anything, let alone your presence. Especially tonight. They're nothing but a bunch of clueless men and a possibly resurrected woman who owe you a few explanations."

I let out a half-hearted laugh. "You're very passionate about my avoidance issues."

"I'm passionate about you," she said simply, then stood and stretched with a groan. "Now. We're going to lock this door, draw the curtains, build a mini-nest and hibernate like the emotionally damaged Omegas we are. Time for backup."

I sat up, confused. "Backup?"

A wicked grin curled across her face as she grabbed her phone from her back pocket and tapped out a quick message. "What's the point of having a pack full of Alpha Daddies if I can't call on them for some Pizza when a girlfriend needs a night in?"

I didn't even have time to protest before she was pacing toward the kitchen, phone to her ear. "Daddy? Hey... Change of plans… Can I ask you a huge favour? Christa needs a night in, and I am gonna stick around and cuddle with her. Can you get me all my usuals pretty please?"

They exchange a few more words before she kisses into the phone like a damn loon and hangs up on the man. You know, the big ass, scary biker.

"Fifteen minutes," she told me, her smile smitten as hell.

Sure enough, Scratch arrived fifteen minutes later, holding a huge pizza box, a couple of huge milkshakes, and a paper bag full of goodies.

Every time I saw him, he gave me a jolt.

Massive—all tall and broad with skin like polished obsidian—yet he still treated Honey like she was made of the finest china.

"Ladies," he greeted, stepping inside without hesitation. "I have the requested goods. The only payment I will require is one kiss from my princess."

Honey jumped up to greet him, waiting for him to put down his haul. When he was done he grabbed her in his arms and at first just placed a soft kiss on top of her head before she pulled away just enough so she could look up at him like a love-sick puppy.

She melted against him, sighing as he claimed her mouth in a deeper, much less chaste kiss.

I looked away quickly, pretending to fuss with the TV remote. But the ache in my chest wasn't just the remnants of panic anymore.

It was the same feeling I got whenever I saw Honey with one of her Alphas.

Longing.

Not for her Alphas, obviously. But I wanted something like that for myself.

After Scratch said his farewells, Honey and I curled up into our makeshift nest, enjoying our greasy pizza, thick shakes, and incredibly unhealthy snacks.

I might still be single, freaking out about the confrontations I had to face tomorrow, but for now, everything was as freaking amazing as I could make it.

As Honey could make it.

I'd worry about tomorrow... tomorrow.