Page 120 of Pack Me Up

I nod, slow.

The leader laughs, cold. “You’re not even worth anything anymore, but we’ll take you anyway.”

Now or never.

I launch myself forward, tackling the Loomer who is holding Brittney. I take out his legs in a single, desperate lunge. We hit the ground in a spray of gravel. The gun goes off, a boom that’s less sound than force, and my arm burns as the bullet grazes mefrom elbow to wrist. The pain is a line of liquid fire that nearly makes me pass out.

Doesn’t matter.

I don’t stop. I wrap my arms around Brittney’s waist, roll, and pull her under me, my whole body shielding hers. She’s sobbing, but her hands clamp onto my neck like she’ll never let go.

Above us, the world is bullets and shouts, Saint roaring commands, the Loomers returning fire, the stutter and crack of cheap handguns echoing over the wreck.

My body is on autopilot. I flatten Brittney to the ground, wrap my arms over her head, and put my back to the sky. The only thing that matters is keeping her safe.

The shooting gets louder, closer, and someone falls over us, heavy and limp. Blood spatters across my cheek. I taste it, metallic and warm, and I don’t know if it’s mine or theirs.

Brittney is shaking so hard I think she’ll break apart. “Cody,” she whispers, her voice shredded, “don’t let them get hurt. You have to help them!”

“I protect you first,” I growl. I mean it.

Another volley. Another scream, this time a Loomer’s. The pack is fighting back even half-conscious. I hear Saint’s voice, Hunter’s growls, Fox’s curse, and Colton’s ragged breathing. They’re all right here, fighting for our omega.

I feel Brittney’s heartbeat under my hand, too fast, but real.

She’s alive. She’s alive. She’s alive.

That’s all I need.

I press my face to the top of her head, block out everything else. The pain in my arm is secondary, the crash, the blood, the screams, they’re all static, white noise.

The first bullet misses by inches, hissing through the air so fast it leaves a whisper in my ear. The next isn’t so generous. It rips through the meat of my thigh—hot, white, then cold as allthe blood rushes out. I grunt, but there’s no time for pain. My only job is to keep Brittney under me, safe from every last bullet.

Colton’s shot is surgical. It takes the guy in the red hat straight through the shoulder, spinning him off his feet. Hunter is pure chaos, howling as he barrels into a Loomer and slams his head into the bumper of their own truck.

Brittney’s hands dig into my back, sharp nails scraping bone. “You’re bleeding,” she whispers, voice gone small and hollow.

“Not the first time,” I say. “Not even top three.”

I try to smile, but it’s all teeth. The pain is real now, bigger than the fear. Every beat of my heart sprays another wave of heat down my leg. I’m leaking like a punctured tire, and it’s only a matter of time before the lights go out for good.

Another round pings off the metal above us. I pull Brittney tighter, wrap my body over hers, and focus on the feel of her hair against my cheek, the shaky pulse under her skin.

Brittney

OMEGA BUZZ GOSSIP COLUMN

THREE OMEGAS SELLING OUT EVERY SHOW IS OUR FUTURE

May 26th

My face is smashed into the pavement. Asphalt in my teeth, blood in my eyes, every breath a fresh scream from somewhere behind my ribs. My whole body is wrong-side-out and my head is still spinning, replaying the crash in a loop: headlights, Hunter’s scream, the world flipping, glass exploding, then dirt and dark and now Cody’s chest smashing me flat, so heavy I can barely twitch my fingers.

He’s risking his life to protect me.

He’s leaking blood, warm and syrupy, down my bare shoulder, and his heartbeat thrums through both of us like a warning.

The world outside Cody is chaos. Gunshots, yelling, and boots hammering against the road. I want to help. Need to help. But all I can do is spit blood and suck in shallow little breaths while Cody cages me in his arms, his body the only roof left over mine.