Page 103 of Pack Me Up

“Tell him we are on our way,” I respond.

The parking lot is empty, lights buzzing overhead, the world shrunk to hard concrete and our own footsteps. Fox and Hunter flank me, one on each side, our shadows long and weirdly fused together on the wet pavement. The bus waits at the edge of the lot, every window dark except for the faint gold spill of fairy lights from Brittney’s nest.

For a second, I want to turn back. Not because I’m scared, though maybe I am, but because I know, after tonight, nothing will ever be the same for her.

Fox leans in, voice gentle. “She’ll hate you more if you lie.”

“I know,” I say. “I wish I were better at this.”

Hunter barks a laugh. “Nobody’s expecting you to be good at this, but we know you care.”

I look at them, my brothers. For all our fuckups, we’ve never let each other down. I don’t intend to start tonight.

I shake my head. “If I crack, one of you takes over.”

Hunter nods. “That’s what a pack is for.”

I go first, Fox at my elbow, Hunter behind. We move as one, a line of defense against whatever comes next.

Brittney

OMEGA BUZZ GOSSIP COLUMN

TOMMY TURNER AND BRITTNEY RYAN DUO MAKE HEADLINES

May 19th

The bus rocks in its parking spot, engine off, everything else on pause except the low, angry hum under my skin. It’s my own stress, yeah, but also Saint’s, Fox’s, and Hunter’s, like they’re all up in my blood at once, simmering with fight or flight.

Colton and Cody wedge in close, one on each side. They press in shoulder-to-shoulder, body heat and twin scents making the air thick and familiar, and I let them. There’s a violence to the way I hug the pillow, something desperate, but neither one tries to pry me loose or make me talk.

“Are you sure you don’t know what’s going on?” I ask them for the thousandth time.

Cody presses a kiss to the top of my head. “I’m sorry, wild girl, we really don’t.”

Minutes crawl. I try to count the fairy lights overhead, but keep losing count after twenty. My throat is sore from my show earlier, but I don’t do anything about it.

Colton’s hand finds mine, fingers sliding into the gaps like he’s done it a thousand times. He’s all nervous energy, the buzzof his skin making the hair on my arms stand up, but his voice when he finally speaks is soft, a blanket thrown over barbed wire.

“Whatever’s happening, we’ll handle it together,” he says. Not even a question in it.

I nod, but the tremor that goes through me is anything but brave. “I know,” I say, voice too thin.

Cody doesn’t say anything, just leans in until his arm is flush against mine. I can feel the tension in his biceps with the effort it takes not to grip me too hard. The twins exchange glances over my head, a wordless volley of panic that I try to ignore but can’t.

My phone is silent, screen dark. I want to check it, but I can’t unclench my hands. Sweat pools under my palms, slicking the pillowcase, and I start counting again to have something to do with my brain.

The bond is a livewire. Saint’s side of it flares with anger, hot and icy at the same time. I picture him with jaw locked and eyes murder-bright. Fox is a softer ache, something like heartbreak but heavier, leaking sadness into my bloodstream. Hunter’s signature is a shock of adrenaline, but under that is fear, sharp enough to cut.

Cody’s thumb rubs a slow circle on my arm. I focus on the pressure and the movement, letting it ground me.

We sit like that for what feels like an hour, until the hum of the pack bond spikes. Saint is sad but focused.

Colton’s phone buzzes. The sound is like a gunshot in the quiet. He fumbles it out, screen lighting up his face in blue and shadow.

“They’re coming back,” he says, voice tight.

The bus creaks with movement on the stairs, then the forward lounge door rattles. The twins stiffen, muscles coiling, and I brace for the worst.