Page 8 of Nesting With My Three Alphas (Hollow Haven #1)

Kit

I made it exactly three steps inside my duplex before my phone started ringing again.

The same number. The same relentless persistence that had been haunting me all day. I stared at the screen, watching "M" flash over and over, and felt that familiar cocktail of fear and fury rise in my throat.

Not today, Marcus.

I hit decline and immediately powered the phone off, shoving it into the depths of my purse like that might somehow make the whole problem disappear. My hands were shaking, I realized. Such a stupid, telling detail that I hated myself for.

The bakery bag from Micah sat on my kitchen counter, the scent of blueberry muffins filling the small space with warmth I didn't deserve.

He'd been so kind, so genuinely concerned, and I'd fled like the coward I was becoming.

Both he and Reed had offered help, real help , and I'd stammered through polite refusals while my omega instincts screamed that I was being idiotic.

Saying yes felt dangerous, but saying no felt stupid.

The thought had been circling through my head since I'd left the bakery.

Reed's offer to check my security wasn't just neighborly kindness.

He'd seen something, noticed the way I held myself, the way I checked exits and parked for quick escapes.

An alpha recognizing a threatened omega and responding with protection instincts.

Marcus would have sneered at that. Called it "primitive" and "undignified." But standing in my poorly secured duplex, knowing that black sedan had been prowling the streets, Reed's offer felt like exactly what I needed.

I pulled out his business card, running my thumb over the simple design. Local handyman. Security systems. The kind of practical help that might actually keep me safe instead of just making me feel guilty for needing it.

Before I could change my mind, I powered my phone back on and dialed his number.

"Reed Thornton," his voice answered after two rings, warm and professional.

"Hi, it's Kit. Kit Lennox. From the bakery earlier." I twisted a lock of hair around my finger, a nervous habit from childhood. "I was wondering if that offer to look at my locks was still open?"

"Absolutely." No surprise in his voice, no judgment. Just immediate, reassuring competence. "I can be over in about an hour if that works for you?"

"That would be perfect. Thank you."

"No problem. Kit?" His voice softened slightly. "You doing okay? You seemed pretty rattled earlier."

The simple question, asked without prying or demands for explanation, made my throat tight. "I'm fine. Just... being practical."

"Good. Practical's smart." I could hear the approval in his voice. "See you soon."

After he hung up, I found myself standing in my kitchen, staring at the muffins and feeling something I hadn't experienced in months. Not quite safety, but the possibility of it. The knowledge that help was coming, offered freely and without strings attached.

My phone buzzed with a text from Jonah: Charlie's demanding a family dinner tonight to "cheer up Kit." You're officially invited if you're up for it. Fair warning, she's planning to share every dinosaur fact she knows.

Despite everything, I found myself smiling. Charlie's earnest concern, her matter-of-fact declaration that I was family now, had been hitting me in waves all afternoon. When was the last time someone had wanted to take care of me just because they cared?

I'd love to come , I typed back. What can I bring?

Just yourself. Micah's handling dessert, I've got dinner covered. 6 PM?

Perfect. Thank you.

The response came quickly: Kit? Whatever's got you spooked, you don't have to handle it alone anymore.

I stared at the message for a long moment, feeling that dangerous warmth spread through my chest again. These people barely knew me, had no reason to care about my problems, and yet they kept offering exactly what I needed most, unconditional support.

Marcus's voice echoed in my head, that familiar criticism about how needy I was, how my omega instincts were embarrassing and clingy.

But maybe the problem hadn't been my needs.

Maybe the problem had been trusting someone who saw those needs as weaknesses to exploit rather than vulnerabilities to protect.

The knock at my door came exactly an hour later. Reed stood on my porch with a toolbox and a reassuring smile, looking every inch the competent alpha who could handle whatever problems life threw at him.

"So," he said, stepping inside and immediately beginning what looked like a professional assessment of my space. "What's got you worried about security?"

I could have deflected, made up some story about general caution or city girl paranoia. Instead, I found myself telling him about the phone calls, the way I'd been looking over my shoulder, the black sedan that had felt like a threat even if I couldn't prove it.

Reed listened without interruption, his expression growing more serious as I talked. When I finished, he nodded once, sharp and decisive.

"We'll get you sorted," he said simply. "Better locks, security system, maybe some exterior lighting. Nothing too obvious, but enough to make anyone thinking about bothering you reconsider their choices."

"I can't afford..."

"Kit." His voice was gentle but firm. "Let me worry about the cost. You can pay me back in whatever way works for you, when it works for you. Right now, let's just focus on making sure you feel safe in your own home."

The kindness in his offer, the way he presented it as simple problem-solving rather than charity, made my eyes burn with unexpected tears. This was what alphas were supposed to do. Protect without controlling, help without taking over.

"Thank you," I whispered.

"Don't thank me yet," Reed said with a grin that was all confidence and competence. "Wait until you see how fancy I can make your security system."

He worked with quiet efficiency, explaining what he was doing as he upgraded my locks and installed motion sensors connected to the exterior lights. His presence filled the space with calm alpha energy, the kind that made my omega instincts settle and relax despite everything I'd been through.

"There," he said finally, showing me how the new system worked. "Motion activated lights, deadbolts that would take serious effort to break, and I’ve ordered some cameras that feed to an app on your phone. They’ll be here in a couple of days, but they're fairly simple to put up.

It should only take me an hour or so. Anyone comes sniffing around, you'll know about it. "

"This is incredible," I said, testing the new locks and marveling at how solid they felt. "Thank you. Really."

"My pleasure." Reed packed up his tools, then paused. "Kit? I know we don't know each other well yet, but if whoever's calling you decides to escalate beyond phone harassment, you call me immediately. Day or night. I mean it."

The protective edge in his voice sent a shiver down my spine, but not from fear. From recognition. This was what an alpha's protection should feel like, steady, reliable. But mostly, offered without expectation of anything in return.

"I will," I promised, and meant it.

After Reed left, I stood in my newly secured duplex and felt something shift in my chest. For the first time since leaving Chicago, I felt like I might actually be building something here. Not just running from one nightmare, but moving toward something better.

My phone buzzed with a text from an unknown local number: Hi Kit, it's Micah.

Got your number from Jonah. I was wondering if you'd like to grab coffee sometime this week?

I'd love to show you around town properly, maybe introduce you to some of the other local business owners.

No pressure, just thought it might be nice to help you get settled. - Micah

I stared at the message, my heart doing something complicated in my chest. Coffee with Micah. A chance to see more of Hollow Haven, to spend time with the gentle alpha who'd given me muffins and told me I belonged here now.

I'd like that very much, I typed back. When works for you?

How about Wednesday afternoon? I close the bakery at 2 on weekdays. We could start with coffee and see where the tour takes us.

It's a date, I replied without thinking, then immediately felt my cheeks heat. I mean, it's a plan. Wednesday sounds perfect.

Looking forward to it, came his response, and I could practically hear the warmth in his voice through the text.

I set my phone down and looked around my duplex, taking in the new locks, the lingering scent of Reed's competent alpha presence, the bakery bag that represented Micah's gentle care.

In a few hours, I'd be having dinner with Jonah and Charlie, surrounded by the kind of family warmth I'd almost forgotten existed.

For the first time in months, I wasn't just surviving. I was beginning to think I might actually be able to live again.