Page 17 of The Violence of Love (The Black Market Omega #2)

Oli

Every alpha I’ve ever known talks about omegas like they’re fragile things designed only for heat and hunger. But looking at Autry’s slight form now—peaceful, soft, her bottom lip caught between her teeth—I can’t bring myself to think of her like that.

She’s not mindless. She’s not just instinct.

But I’ll be damned if she wasn’t built to tempt every one of mine.

Inhaling deeply, I savor the sweet sugar curling around Autry’s lemon brightness. She smells like frosting melting into warm skin. My abs clench and my jaw ticks. I shift in my seat, trying not to let my thoughts spiral somewhere they shouldn’t.

But I can't help it.

She’d be so warm under me. Her size alone makes every filthy image in my head worse—I imagine having to hold back, having to coax her open so slow she'd cry from it. Would she arch into me or shy away? Whimper and cling? Beg?

Shit .

I drag a hand through my hair and tear my eyes off her, but it only lasts a second. My gaze finds its way back like it’s got a mind of its own. She flushes slightly, a faint pink across her cheeks. Dreaming, maybe. Of an alpha? Of being knotted, taken, owned?

I hate how badly I want it to be me.

Biting down on the inside of my cheek, I try to ground myself. She’s not mine. Not now. Not ever.

But I still can’t help but wonder how something so small and delicate can handle an alpha’s cock.

There’s a faint sound of a breath hitch—Rhett’s. I glance up. He’s watching me in the rearview mirror. The look in his eyes says everything.

Mine.

It’s not spoken, but I feel it. The sharp edge of it. The quiet warning tucked into his stillness. My heart kicks in my chest.

He’s got that casual alpha control down to a science, but I’m not stupid. I’ve seen the way his eyes track her when she moves. The way he touched her earlier, hand on her lower back like a silent claim.

I force myself to lean back in my seat and look out the window. My teeth grind together as I remind myself that this is a job.

Yeah. Keep telling yourself that.

The beta next to me lets out a muffled yawn.

I glance at Autry once more, then turn to watch him out of the corner of my eye.

His expression shifts—subtle, but telling.

His brows lift slightly, lips parting in silent thought.

It’s clear he’s deep in some kind of internal conversation.

But whatever he’s thinking, he ends it with a small, decisive nod.

Who is he?

And why the hell is Rhett bringing him back to Westbin?

“We’re here,” Rhett says, glancing at me in the rearview mirror.

I look out the window, expecting the gleam of a private jet on the tarmac. Instead, we’re parked in front of a dull office building tucked at the edge of the airport. “What is this place?”

“I need to register Autry and Charlie with the pilot,” Rhett says, already opening his door.

Charlie slips out of the car without hesitation, quiet and obedient, like he’s used to following orders. Rhett moves around to the passenger side and leans in, carefully unbuckling the sleeping omega. Every motion is deliberate. Gentle. Too gentle.

“Don’t forget you still need to pay me,” I remind him, watching as he lifts Autry against his chest like she’s made of spun glass.

“I’ll get your cash once we’re done.” His tone is clipped like he’s annoyed.

I want to bite back with something sharp, something that’ll make him bristle—but I can’t get past the fact that he has an extra few thousand on him after paying so fucking much at the Morder.

“Let’s go,” Rhett whispers, more to Autry than to me, as he adjusts her weight in his arms.

I climb out and stretch, joints cracking in protest. First my knuckles, then my back. I twist side to side until I feel the satisfying pull along my spine. Too many hours in a car, and now my body’s staging a revolt.

The office building is small and stale, a time capsule of outdated furniture and flickering fluorescent lights.

A row of plastic chairs lines one wall, and a long information desk stretches across the middle of the room, separating us from a scatter of desks and humming computers.

Paper is stacked everywhere, like the room gave up on organization years ago.

But the place is empty. Silent except for the low hum of old machines and the steady tick of a wall clock overhead.

Ten till midnight.

Fuck, it’s been a long day.

“Charlie?” Rhett’s voice is low as he eases Autry onto one of the hard plastic chairs. She stirs with a soft whimper, her tired eyes fluttering open. She looks disoriented as she scans the room.

“Do you have your identification?” Rhett asks Charlie without looking away from his omega.

“Yes.” Charlie unzips a hidden seam in the side of his scrubs and pulls out a thin, black wallet.

Rhett leans in closer and lowers his voice. “Remember what I told you. No touching.”

Charlie nods with too much enthusiasm. Then he sits beside Autry. I notice his shoulder brushing hers the second Rhett turns around. Autry’s pink lips curl at the corner—soft, secretive. She looks at him like he’s safe.

And that’s when the hair on the back of my neck rises.

Lovers? No way. But there’s something there. Something I don’t like.

Before I can think too much about it, the front door creaks open, and an older alpha steps inside. His coveralls are smeared with grease, and his forehead shines with sweat. The name Patch is stitched over his breast pocket.

He walks in like he owns the place—but his eyes land straight on Autry. “Can I help you?” he says to Rhett, but his gaze doesn’t budge. Autry shrinks under the weight of his stare. I see her shoulders tense and her scent sharpens .

“I need to add two people to the flight manifest,” Rhett says as he flips through the paperwork the Morder gave him. It instantly angers me that he’s not paying attention.

“The girl at the desk’s probably on break.” Patch takes a single step toward Autry. His gaze drops to her pale, smooth neck, and something inside me snaps.

“Back the fuck up!” My voice bounces off the walls, louder than I intend.

Autry flinches hard, and Rhett’s head snaps up like he’s been yanked by a leash. He turns, posture instantly aggressive, his entire body coiled as he steps forward.

“I’m not doing shit,” Patch says, lifting his hands like this is all clearly some kind of misunderstanding. But he doesn’t back off. Not an inch. “You need to get your packmate under control,” he tells Rhett. “Before he picks a fight he can’t win.”

“I’m not playing around, old man.” I curl my fists tight, ready to earn this paycheck. “Now back the fuck up away from my omega or I’ll rip your goddamn throat out.” Rhett snarls when I call Autry mine, but he is paying me to pretend to be her mate.

That, and it feels good to pretend she’s mine.

“I’m going to suggest you leave,” Rhett says coldly, stepping beside me. Together we form a wall between Patch and Autry.

“Mr. Sesto.” A bright voice cuts through the tension, and we all turn.

A perky brunette strides into the room, tits crammed into a too-tight uniform, her ponytail bouncing like it’s been engineered to distract. “We’ve been expecting you.” She pauses at the counter and looks between us. “Patch?” Her smile falters. “Is everything alright?

”Everything is fine,” Rhett answers for him. “He was just leaving. Isn’t that right, Patch?” He stares down at the older alpha, not blinking.

“Yeah.” Patch finally takes a step back. The subtle sag of his shoulders signals submission, though he tries to save face. It’s fucking about time. “Just wanted to let you know that the Cessna is ready to go,” he mutters, dragging his eyes over Autry one last time like a fucking creep.

The second the door clicks shut behind him, I spin around.

Autry’s curled in on herself, knees tucked under her chin, arms wrapped over her head. Her hair hangs in a dark curtain around her face like she’s trying to disappear.

Charlie’s beside her, jaw clenched, hands twitching like he doesn’t know what to do with them. He keeps reaching toward her, then pulling back. His whole face screams mine and helpless at the same time.

I hate how that bastard scared her. But more than that, I hate the gnawing in my chest, knowing I can’t do anything about it. I need to let it go. After all, in a few minutes she’ll be on that plane and out of my life for good.

Still... it all leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.

“So you need to add two to the flight manifest?” The perky beta smiles brightly at Rhett from behind the counter.

He nods once, and she launches into her little prepared speech.

“I’m going to need documentation for everyone traveling,” she chirps.

“That means updated IDs, full facial scans, fingerprints, and a secondary pat-down clearance.”

Rhett raises an eyebrow, handing over a neatly stacked envelope. “That seems a little excessive.”

The beta doesn’t miss a beat, still smiling as she takes the documents. “Maybe for a northern flight. But you’re heading south. Rules are stricter going down. ”

Rhett sighs, keeping his voice even. “Stricter, how exactly?”

She taps at her keyboard, then gestures for him to place his hands on the scanner. “Too many hard alphas like to settle in the North. Less regulation up here. Down south, they like to keep a tighter leash. So—extra screenings, full clearance, and yes, a pat-down. Safety first.”

Charlie grimaces, cutting a worried look at Autry.

I watched Rhett purchase a full background for Autry at the Morder, but how good can their “documentation” be? Fingerprints and facial scanners? That’s an impressive amount of security for the black market to get around, considering they run the whole thing in a fucking field.

“Alright.” Rhett lets out a tense breath, his back rigid. “But my omega has never traveled before, so she might not be in your system.” He pushes one hand in his pocket, then places the other on the scanner. It’s obvious he’s trying to look relaxed. “Will that be an issue?”