Page 60 of The Violence of Love (The Black Market Omega #2)

Rhett

The elevator hums beneath my feet, gliding up toward my apartment, smooth and fast. I lean back against the mirrored wall, my shoulders finally beginning to relax for the first time in months. Years, maybe.

It’s done.

The deal is closed.

The company is sold.

The final transfer hit the offshore account two hours ago. Clean, seamless, legal.

The numbers were better than anyone expected. Jannis agreed to retain the entire staff—two years minimum, fully contracted. I was able to cash out completely. No partial holdings, no strings. I’m free.

And all I can think about now is spending time with my pack.

Travel. Mountains. Oceans. Long mornings wrapped in too many blankets and sunlight on our skin. I want time with them. Time I don't have to schedule or fight for. And when Autry finally goes into heat and gets pregnant, we’ll find the right place to build something new. Something better.

The elevator chimes and the doors glide open.

I open the front door, but instead of relief, my skin prickles and the hairs along the back of my neck rise. Something’s wrong .

I drop my briefcase and jacket, then take a step inside. The air hits me like a wall. It smells like…fear. Like adrenaline, and heartbreak and grief. The sharp stink of it crawls down my throat and I have to fight the urge to recoil.

“Hello?” I call out, already on edge.

Myrick’s voice answers immediately, tense and clipped. “We’re in the living room.”

I move fast.

Rounding the couch, I catch sight of the scene—and my whole world tilts.

Autry is crushed between Oli and Charlie on the couch, small and trembling, her face blotchy with tears. She’s sobbing—silently, which is so much worse than anything loud. Oli’s got one arm around her shoulder while Charlie holds her hand, white-knuckled.

My stomach drops.

“Autry?” I shove the coffee table aside without even thinking, nearly knocking it over. My knees hit the rug hard, but I don’t care. I press close, hands hovering over her thighs, her arms, her face. “Baby, what’s wrong? What happened? Talk to me.”

She shakes her head, making her hair fall forward, then she buries her face in her hands. She smells like she’s in full-on distress. No .

Frantic and confused, I look up. “Myrick?”

He’s pacing on the other side of the couch like a caged animal. Jaw locked. Hands fisting and flexing. I’m honestly not even sure if he heard me.

“Your friend Donall came by,” Oli says.

I blink. “Donall?” I have no idea what he has to do with this. “We’re not friends. I see him occasionally at certain events, but that’s it.”

Oli nods slowly, taking it all in. “He came here asking for you. Then he asked to talk to me for some reason. He saw Autry but called her Autumn. Kept saying it over and over like he was trying to upset her.”

That gets my attention, and a cold ripple of instinct moves through me. “What did he want?”

Myrick’s pacing quickens.

Oli’s jaw ticks. “He said he recognized her.” His dark eyes flicker to the omega curled against his side. “He accused her of being a mass murderer .” The words hang in the air—half-ridiculous, but too heavy for anyone to laugh. “He said he’d be back to arrest her.”

I can’t even process what he said. It’s too…

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” I let out a short, stunned laugh—except it’s not a laugh. It comes out cracked and wrong.

But before Oli can respond, Autry lets out a sound, this tiny, shattered sob—and it guts me. Her body folds tighter in on itself. Her hands are shaking. And suddenly I realize—she’s not distressed. She’s not even confused.

She’s terrified.

“Baby…” I whisper, reaching for her. But she flinches when I touch her. And the ground feels like it’s been ripped out from under me. Whatever high I was riding, whatever freedom I thought I had—it's gone now. Because none of it means anything if she’s not okay.

And clearly? —

She’s not.

I press my hand to Autry’s cheek, but she doesn’t respond. Doesn’t even look at me. She’s trembling so hard I can feel it through the couch cushions.

I turn to Charlie. “What do we need to do to snap her out of this?”

He blinks, startled, like I pulled him out of a fog. His lips part, but nothing comes out for a second. Then I see it—the shift. He’s not Omega Charlie right now. He’s the trained caretaker, the one who knows what to do when instinct and panic override everything else inside an omega.

“This was your job,” I remind him, voice tight but steady. “Tell me what she needs.”

Charlie straightens. “We’ve done everything I can think of,” he says quickly. “We gave her a mild sedative. Cold compress to the face. Oli’s touch, his purring—it helped a little. But she’s still stuck.”

“Stuck?” I echo.

He nods. “Her body thinks she’s still in danger. She can’t come down from her distress. We could try a shower. Cold water sometimes helps shock the system back into regulation. But—” he hesitates “—sometimes it just makes them more alert, which can make the distress worse. It’s not a guarantee.”

I don’t need guarantees.

I slide my arms under my omega—one behind her back, one under her knees—and lift her off the couch. Her tiny body folds into me like she doesn’t even know she’s being moved.

Oli starts to rise, but I shake my head. “I’ve got her. Prepare her nest.”

And then I carry her straight into the bathroom.

The light flickers on as I shoulder the door open. I set her gently on the bench inside the walk-in shower and turn the water to cold. It stings my hand for a second before it evens out. Sharp. Bracing.

“Autry,” I whisper, dropping to my knees again. “Baby, look at me.”

She doesn’t.

I slide my hand under her chin and lift carefully until her face tilts up. Her eyes don’t quite focus, but I help her to her feet anyway. I tug off her shirt and leggings, moving as fast as I can, Then I ease her under the spray, soaking my suit straight through to my skin.

The cold water hits Autry’s bare arms and scalp, saturating her hair in seconds. She trembles—and then, slowly… slowly … I watch her tip her head back. She stays like that.

Breathing.

Not gasping. Not choking.

Finally breathing.

My shoulders drop a fraction, but then irrational anger grips.

I have to push back the urge to snap at the rest of my pack.

They should have done this hours ago. But I can’t be too upset with them.

Oli and Charlie are both only twenty-five.

They’re babies, and, despite Charlie’s training, I’m sure he was panicked with Autry being his patient.

And Myrick has never been one that can handle an emergency.

I love the beta more than life itself, but I would not call on him to help me bury a body.

But none of that matters now.

I’m home.

And now it’s up to me to hold my omega steady in the water and pray that she’ll be okay.

Forty-minutes later, we have Autry settled in her nest. Charlie and Myrick snuggle up against her while she sips a cup of chamomile tea. She seems much better, or at least aware of her surroundings.

“Rhett?” Charlie looks up at me with those wide, sad eyes. “Will you grab a new compress? This one’s too warm.”

I take the cloth from his hand, already rising, but before I can leave, Oli steps into the room, a fresh towel in his hands.

“I put ice in the center,” he says, voice low as he hands it over.

“Thank you,” I murmur, passing it back to Charlie before lowering myself to sit back down on the edge of their nest.

Autry probably needs rest—real rest—but we can’t afford to wait. Not after what Donall said. The weight of his words still hangs over us like a tiger waiting to strike.

“Autry?” I angle my head to catch her face, voice gentler now. Her eyes flicker up enough for me to know she’s listening. “We need to talk, omega.”

She nods, eyes fixed on the teacup in her hands. “I know.” Her voice is thin, worn ragged from crying.

I don’t dance around it. “Is what Donall said true?”

The room stills, breath held tight in every chest. Then, slowly, Autry nods. Myrick’s mouth falls open.

“There’s no way,” he whispers, hand coming up to cover his lips. “You… killed someone?”

Another nod. This one smaller. Quieter. She looks like she wants to disappear, folding into herself inch by inch.

“Words, omega,” I say gently, reaching for her cup of tea. She doesn’t resist, her hands falling open as I take it. “It’s time to tell us how you got to the Morder.”

I’ve wondered since the day we met. I thought that maybe she’d share when she felt safe. A few years from now, maybe. But we don’t have that kind of time anymore. Not if someone’s coming for her.

“It’s okay.” Charlie wraps his arms around her shoulders. “You’re safe here. You can tell us anything.”

Autry sucks in a deep breath, then tips her head back. Tears already cling to her lashes, but she doesn’t make us wait any longer.

“Do you remember that alpha I told you about?” she glances at Myrick. “Tallen?”

Myrick speaks up, “The one that stalked you and tracked down your parents?”

Autry mumbles a yes, and my body goes tight.

“He did what?” Oli growls as he inches closer, rage rolling off of him.

“Sit down,” I order the young alpha, pointing to the armchair in the corner of the room. “Let her talk.”

Oli’s jaw flexes, but he does as he’s told, pulling the chair right up to the edge of the nest.

Autry takes a moment, sucks in a deep breath, steadying herself, then she tells us about meeting Tallen Montgomery at Beechworth. She shares how he always felt off and controlling. About how the school scared her parents into mating her off, and how Tallen tracked them down.

“He was always nice to me when I met him at the academy’s events, but there was something dark within him that I could just feel.” Autry’s gaze fixates on a small pink pillow. “And then I went home for a holiday weekend, and he was there…waiting for me.”