Page 166 of Retribution

“Omegas are useless,” she screams, fighting Alesso as he drags her closer to me.

Afraid she may be hiding weapons on her body, I put my gun away and begin to search her.

“Help! Help,” Ophelia screams. “Someone!”

“I don’t think anyone is going to bother,” I say sarcastically, pulling knives and a garrote from the multiple pockets in her dress. Finally annoyed with the fabric, I take a knife and cut the dress until it barely hits her thighs.

“What’s all the screaming about?” Damon asks, coming closer. His omega is with Quinn, Linus, and Callum. They’re hanging out with Leila at Pack Kelly’s home, and Callum is handling any technical issues we may have.

We may need any cameras on the way home wiped of our presence. Too many people get caught in criminal activities by traffic cameras. I refuse to allow that to happen to us.

“I need zip ties and maybe some duct tape if you have some,” I sigh.

Damon and I watch as Alesso gets annoyed at her screams and holds her mouth closed as he bands his arm around her to keep her from hitting him.

“Ophelia, you bitch,” Damon mutters, pulling the items I need from his pockets.

Together, we zip tie her ankles and then while I’m securing her arms behind her back, Damon pulls out the tape.

“Ah, so you may have a sister,” I say awkwardly. “It looks like Ophelia and your dad had a thing together.”

“Ophelia,” Damon says darkly. “So that’s how you got my dad to back you.”

“Who said it was ever consensual?” she spits out.

“Karma kind of sucks,” Damon says. “Fucking over people so that they suffer what you have isn’t an excuse. Where is this sister?”

“Either dead,” I wince, “or attempting to escape the main room with two broken wrists and a gunshot wound. Sorry about that. She held a gun against Alesso and I.”

“I’ll find her,” Damon says. “I believe in cleaning up my father’s messes.”

He cuts off a piece of tape before dropping Ophelia face first on the ground to connect her ankles to her wrists with more zip ties. Lifting her so that he can wear her like a fucked up scarf in a fireman’s carry, he nods at us in goodbye and jogs away.

“I’m really glad he’s on our side,” Alesso mutters, taking off to climb the stairs to the stage.

Not seeing Isolde, I blow out a breath.

Where the fuck are you, Kitten?

Lucas

Tracking Isolde and Grant down behind the stage, I’m completely unsurprised that he’s doing exactly what I told him to. Isolde’s pupils are dilated, and she scans the room as he fucks her, but somehow the hyperawareness fits with the drugs she was forced to take.

Isolde raises her gun in my direction before she realizes it’s me.

“Lucas,” she gasps, and Grant bites down on her shoulder hard. I watch as their bond begins to snap into place as she screams, her body shuddering.

Well, that’s one way to do that.

“That’s not exactly the name I expect you to say when I’m claiming you,” he teases her.

“Hey,” I smirk, moving over to take the gun from her. “You’re a sight for sore eyes, darlin’.”

Blood and all. She’s absolutely covered in a way that would put Carrie from the movie to shame.

“Is Grant being good to you?” I ask, pushing her hair out of her face.

“Ye…es…” she says, her eyes rolling back as he pushes her over the edge.