Page 24 of The Night Movers: Season One

Sugar entered the room and handed Ridley a bottle of water and three pills. One blue. Two white. “Take these, then we’ll talk.”

Ridley stared at the three pills like they were poison, struggling to keep the contents of his stomach where they belonged. Would Sugar be super mad if he vomited his soup all over the already destroyed mattress?

Ridley popped the pills into his mouth, swallowing them down with the tiniest sip of water, afraid any more would cause him to throw up. Only once they were down did he think to ask, “What were they?”

“The blue pill is to make sure no pregnancy takes. You’ll have to take one every morning until your heat breaks. The other two are painkillers. I could smell your pain from down the hall.”

“Oh.” That was nice of him. “Thanks.”

It was only once Sugar loomed over him that Ridley realized how tall he was.

He crossed his arms over his broad chest. “Let’s talk.”

Dread shot through him. He didn’t want to hear whatever would come next. “Can-Can I shower first? I’m…” He looked down at himself with a grimace. “This is uncomfortable.”

Sugar’s patient nod set Ridley’s teeth on edge. “Can you do it yourself or do you need help?”

Why was he being so nice to him? Ridley felt like there was a weight on his chest. Something was very wrong.

He swallowed, wincing at the pain in his throat. “I’m fine. I just…need clothes.”

“The next wave of your heat is bound to kick in any minute. Clothing seems like a waste,” Sugar said.

“I’m cold,” Ridley said, even as sweat dripped down his face.

Sugar said nothing, just walked past Ridley to the bathroom. He heard the metal grinding on metal sound of the handle protesting, then water running. A nervous trill ran through him at the thought of being clean.

When Sugar reappeared, he gestured behind him. “I’ll go find you something to put on. But don’t take all day and don’t go anywhere.”

Ridley nodded, in no mood to argue with the alpha.

He took Sugar’s words to heart, scrubbing his body with his hands even without the benefit of soap.

It was better that way. He wanted to wash off the fluids and clean the wounds but he didn’t want to wash away their scent.

No matter how fucked the situation was, having their scents clinging to his skin soothed his stupidly giddy omega.

When he finished, he wrenched the water off and stepped out, not surprised to find Sugar leaning against the door frame. “Have you been there the whole time?”

“Not the whole time,” he said, handing him first a towel, then his clothes.

Ridley dried off quickly, then pulled on a t-shirt that fell to mid-thigh and pants that pooled around his ankles.

He glowered at himself in the cracked oval mirror.

He looked like a kid playing dress up in his father’s clothes.

Sugar smirked, then crossed the room, lifting the t-shirt out of the way to find the drawstrings on his pants, pulling them taut, then tying them in a bow. Sugar took the towel and aggressively dried Ridley’s hair until it no longer dripped onto his collar .

Ridley was certain he looked ridiculous, but at least he was clean.

When Sugar pulled the towel off his head, he was biting back a smile. “Come with me.”

Ridley padded along behind him on bare feet.

Would he ever have clothes that fit again?

As he walked, he looked for any signs of the others, but it was eerily quiet in the cavernous space.

Sugar led Ridley to another hotel-room-turned-bedroom.

Ridley looked around, his surprise likely evident as he took it all in with wide-eyes.

But he couldn’t help it. The difference between Titus’s and Sugar’s rooms was night and day.

Titus’s room was barren with only a bed, a light, and some books.

Sugar’s room was lined with lights that glowed a soft red.

Like the sofa room, graffiti covered Sugar’s walls.

Not the messy scrawl of words that looked like vandalism, but the type that was pure art, like the car someone had painstakingly painted.

Someone—Sugar, maybe—had taken the time to paint a pair of boxing gloves over the bed, a motorcycle, the face of a young black boy, and many other images that weren’t quite clear in the glow of the red lights. Whoever the artist was, they clearly had a talent Ridley could only dream of.

Sugar’s bed was covered in two worn but soft-looking blankets and at least five pillows. It looked…warm. No, it was warm. The air was toasty, helping to rid the chill from Ridley’s bones. That was when Ridley’s eyes fell on the electric heater in the corner.

Sugar gestured towards the bed. Ridley hesitated, then perched gingerly on the edge, trying to quell the sudden worry rearing its ugly head again. Sugar rolled his eyes, then fell onto the bed, his head landing on the pillows, before he pulled Ridley down until he was sprawled on top of him.

Ridley wanted to protest, but Sugar was so warm and he could tuck his nose right against the alpha’s throat, inhaling that spun sugar scent. Large hands slid under his shirt, squeezing the muscles there.

“If you keep doing that, I’m going to fall asleep,” Ridley mumbled .

“That’s fine.”

Ridley lifted his head up to glare at the alpha. “No, it’s not.”

He rolled off him, but still allowed himself to wrap himself around Sugar’s side. He pressed his head to his chest, letting the alpha leach away some of his anxiety. Was it the claiming bite that made this stranger who hated him still feel comforting?

“So, talk,” Ridley said softly, listening to the gentle thud of Sugar’s heart beating beneath his ear. “What happened while I was unconscious?”

“Aside from the obvious?” Sugar countered.

Ridley lifted his head just enough to give him a look. “If it’s that obvious, why do I feel so confused?”

Sugar sighed, bringing his hand to the back of Ridley’s damp head, gently pushing it back down to his chest, like he couldn’t look at him and answer his questions.

Once Ridley’s cheek was once more pressed to his wide chest, the alpha began to scratch blunt nails over Ridley’s scalp, tugging softly.

He shifted uncomfortably, hoping he didn’t get hard with his cock pressed against Sugar’s hip.

“Why did he do it?” Ridley asked, hand floating to the bite on his neck, pressing it just to feel the pain.

“The short answer?” Sugar asked. “He lost control.”

Ridley stared at the motorcycle on the far wall, trying to process Sugar’s oversimplified answer. How could three words encompass the magnitude of the clusterfuck the aftermath of this would cause Ridley? “What?”

“He lost control,” Sugar repeated, his voice softer than Ridley had heard it in his brief time there.

Ridley gave a humorless laugh as his rage surged, his words erupting from his throat like lava, no longer caring what happened to him after this.

“Oh. Yeah, sure. No big deal. Just a life of following him around, then dying of a broken heart when he dumps me,” he snapped. “But what does he care, right?”

Sugar said nothing, but his anger suddenly drained away, replaced by a sudden peace. Ridley elbowed him in the side hard enough to make him grunt.

“Don’t,” Ridley said through clenched teeth. “Don’t use your alpha shit to manage me. I’m allowed to be pissed about this.”

The calm faded, but his anger bled back in with a healthy dose of fear.

“Of course, you are,” Sugar said patiently. “I’m not trying to…manage you. I’m trying to keep you from throwing yourself into your next heat prematurely.” When Ridley just continued to seethe quietly, he sighed. “He feels terrible.”

“Does he?” Ridley mocked in a voice he wasn’t proud of. “Poor baby.”

Sugar tightened his fingers in his hair, forcing his head up to look him in the eye. “We claimed you. You’re protected now. You’re safe.”

“Until your alpha grows sick of me and throws me away, leaving me to die,” Ridley spit, the words dripping like poison from his tongue.

Sugar shook his head. “He’s not gonna do that. He would never do that to anyone, not even a stranger.”

Fear and anger had him losing any sense of self-preservation. “And I’m just supposed to do what? Take your word for it?”

“We trusted you enough to claim you. Can’t you trust me enough to believe we won’t hurt you?”

Ridley stared at him, incredulous. “You didn’t believe me. I’m not fucking stupid. You claimed me for…damage control.”

“It’s not like that,” Sugar said.

Ridley had never wanted to run away so badly in his life. But he couldn’t. He could never run away again. He was essentially a hostage to his own heart. Soul bonded to a stranger. He tried to sit up. He just needed to move, to pace. But Sugar held him in place beside him.

Ridley was going to choke on his own anger and panic. “Does it even matter?” he asked, hysteria creeping into his voice. “I have no choice but to just…believe you. It’s not like he can take it back. Unless your alpha also has access to a fucking time machine. ”

Sugar rolled to his side, his massive arms coming around Ridley in a bear hug that stole the air from his lungs. “We’re going to take care of you.”

Ridley’s eyes met his, voice thick with unshed tears. “What does that even mean?”

His amber eyes glinted red under the lights as he studied Ridley’s face.

“It means we’re never going to put you out on the street.

We’re never going to sell you or trade you.

There’s nothing safe about our lives. There’s nothing safe about what we do.

But I promise we’ll all protect you to the best of our ability. ”

Ridley shook his head, refusing to let himself believe these alphas were so self-sacrificing. “For how long? What happens when he gets tired of me? What happens if he finds someone else? What happens when you all get bored of me?”

“That’s not going to happen,” Sugar said.

“Why should I believe you? You hate me.”

Sugar frowned at that. “You think I hate you? Even after what we did earlier?”