Page 65 of Omega Forged (Hartlock Omegas #2)

Lloyd

I couldn’t take a full breath. Not with this moment bubbling like effervescence in my lungs.

If I moved too quickly or said too much, the love of my life might leave.

Tully was sitting at the table with us, rifling through the pile of highlighters.

The furrow in her brow deepened as she sat cross-legged on the chair.

“You bumped me,” Walden said to Pan, dismayed. “Now my line is crooked. What do you do when that happens, Tully?”

We were designing the layouts for the next month in our bullet journals. I’d clutched to a secret hope when Tully lingered after dinner. Curiosity made her face so bright, and when she brought her journal out of the nest, I felt lightheaded with glee.

“It doesn’t have to be perfect, Walden.” The corner of her mouth lifted.

“Agree to disagree,” he muttered, moving further away from Pan, who sprawled on the table, all elbows and smiles.

Pan was unrecognizable after bonding with Tully, and I wasn’t jealous. Nope. The pit of burning snakes inside me were remnants of anxiety, from visiting The Barracks a second time today.

“Thanks for bringing me my recording gear this morning. I really want to wrap up these interviews and start editing.” Tully didn’t look up from her page, but I didn’t care. “Was it hard for you?”

“It was nothing.” My throat closed.

I’d puked twice on the drive and contemplated turning back a thousand times.

But her presence felt like my reward. Tully had one last interview to give before she could start editing her last episode of Hartlock, Unfiltered .

When I noticed Tully had forgotten her recording gear, I took it to her personally.

I could have sent a messenger. But the only way I was going to prove my love to Tully was to continue to do better, and that included conquering my fears.

“A little birdie told me you met with Lloyd’s mom?” Ajax took a sip of his herbal tea.

“I didn’t say anything.” I held my hands up as Tully slanted me a look.

“Is your security guard spying on me?”

We hired a team that guarded Tully when we weren’t able to. It had been an unspoken agreement, but we’d been taking shifts off from work so someone could be available. Even Walden.

“It’s part of his job to give a daily report on anything that happened. Nothing sinister. CJ has gone to ground and from all reports, those who have seen him said he’s looking ragged,” Walden said.

“Maybe he’s given up?” Tully muttered, more to herself.

Pan cracked his knuckles. “I wouldn’t underestimate him, angel. He’s probably biding his time.”

“How did the visit go?” Ajax changed the subject when Tully frowned.

“Mom’s well, and it was good to see her.” My chest warmed at the memory.

“Mom, this is Tully Hartlock. She wanted to talk to you about the HLA attack and your memories of it.”

Dina Yarrow wasn’t an emotional woman. But her green eyes filled with tears when Tully and I appeared at her door.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Tully added, as my mom waved us inside. Her apartment was above ground, on the third level. A modest one-bedroom apartment that made my cheeks heat. She waved us over to the table, stacked with scrapbooks, with a trembling smile.

“Come here, Mom.” I clicked my tongue and pulled her into a hug.

Her tears soaked my neck. Her cut grass scent intensified.

“Missed you, baby.” Her fingers scrambled at my back and a heated mixture of shame, anxiety, and guilt pressed through my pores.

“I love you.” I pressed a kiss to the gray streak in her hair.

“What have you got here?” My mom pried the bag full of noodles out of my hand.

I made an involuntary noise, a cross between a whimper and a gasp. It was horrible enough to draw a purr from Tully. Her eyes widened, as if it surprised her. But after a moment, she placed her hand on my back and the sound rolled through me, taking some of the tangled emotions with it.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“Oh these,” my mom crowed as she unpacked the noodles. “Remember how much we loved these when we were stuck here? The beef was my favorite.”

When we were stuck here.

She said it so casually, like she didn’t hold the symbol of my trauma in her hand. Tully’s purr softened to a comforting whisper. I cracked open, and with my mom and my love, something sparked. In the leap of my heartbeat, I let go of the bag and some of the terror bled out.

Tully’s soft laughter brought me back. “Lloyd showed me how to read some marks.”

She’d helped me walk through The Barracks, saying nothing about my trembling limbs and clammy grip. It was cathartic and I was drained and exhilarated at the same time.

“Remember this?” Tully flashed me the first page of her journal she’d ever shown me and her expression was so open it made my breath catch in my throat.

Everyone froze, stunned by her simple joy. I knew I wasn’t the only one balancing on the thread of this moment.

“How could I forget?” I reached out and dragged the journal closer. “This makes me happy.”

It was her mood tracker for that month. Filled with different shades of pink, peach, and yellow.

She’d been happy. Excited. I knew it wasn’t as bright now, but I hoped without hope that we’d get back there.

“It was a good time.” Tully closed the journal and stood.

“It can be that way again,” Ajax said as she got out of her chair.

My heart sank. She prepared to run, as if she thought there was supposed to be distance between us. She chewed on her bottom lip, the silence an answer. But then I thought about what I accomplished this afternoon, and how it felt to shed something that had haunted me for years.

“Can I show you something?” I held my breath.

Her scent trailed as she accompanied me, happy for an excuse to turn her back on the disappointed pack.

“What’s up?”

I walked to my bedroom and opened the cupboard, dizzy from my forceful heartbeat. The shelves were no longer stacked with boxes of noodles. I was afraid to look at Tully, especially when I heard her sharp inhale.

“Your noodles?” The question in her voice was curious, not judging.

“I cleared them out when we got back from The Barracks.”

“Why?”

I laughed. It was vulnerable. Tully could tear me down the middle with a misplaced word right now. I pushed through the squirming fear in my stomach.

“I don’t want to live in the past anymore, Tully. Where fear ruled my decisions. What happened—” My sharp exhale hurt. “I still feel it in my bones. The stockpile kept me feeling safe, but it also held me back. I want to put my trust in something real.”

I turned with a wince, unsure what I’d find. Tully covered her mouth with trembling fingers. Her chest moved unsteadily.

Say something , I urged her. Anything . Don’t leave me hanging out here on my own. My skin crawled with the need to hide. My eyes stung from the salt-blasted scent filling the room.

“I’m not perfect,” I joked. “I still kept one box, but it’s a start.”

I didn’t have time to finish rambling as Tully wrapped her arms around me. Her grip was unforgiving, and she squeezed until I gasped. Her sweetness canceled out my bitter scent. Made me melt against her. I starved for this, the warmth and scent of Tully.

“Nobody is perfect, Lloyd. But I’m so damn proud of you.” Her voice was muffled. “You have your pack, and your mom. She’s so wonderful and loves you so much.”

My mom, who was determined to fix the rift between us. She’d widened her eyes with meaning when she thought Tully wasn’t looking.

They’d spent the afternoon going through old scrapbooks, their laughter tinkling together.

“And you? Do I have you?”

I was terrified that if I let Tully marinate in her hurt, she’d never purge it. I knew I loved Tully from the moment I met her. Before I knew her name, her scent, or anything else. My soul recognized her. If I could have marked her in the hospital, I would’ve in a second.

“I could ask the same question.” Her snort rumbled against my chest.

“So, ask it.”

“Do I have you?” She blinked up at me through her long lashes and my heart sped up.

“You have me on my knees. You have me by the throat. My bones, my blood, yours. There is nothing in this world that could take me away from you, not even yourself.”

Tully’s nails dug through the shirt on my back and my eyes fluttered closed.

“You say it like you’d die for me,” Tully breathed like it hurt.

I shook my head and pulled her into me. She’d run soon, but I wanted the stamp of me on her skin when she did and the echo of my voice in her ears. I was a calm person, but not with Tully. From the beginning, I’d known she was it for me. Her fig and honey filled my lungs.

“I never really lived until I met you, Tully,” I whispered.

The space between our lips filled with our mingled breath. The only way I wanted to live.

“I feel the same way, Lloyd Yarrow.”

She pressed her lips to mine so quickly it might have been an exhale. I ran my tongue along my bottom lip and gathered the gift of honey.

Tully ran, of course. And I let her go, of course.

Because her sweetness infused my mouth, and it tasted like hope.