Page 64 of The Violence of Love (The Black Market Omega #2)

Autry

After dumping my whole miserable past onto my pack, the apartment sort of…

exploded. Oli and Myrick started flying around the place, tossing shirts and chargers and underwear into massive suitcases like we were being timed.

Rhett disappeared into the back with his phone glued to his ear, and Charlie and I were left to take apart our nest.

That was the worst part.

Peeling back the layers we’d built together felt like unraveling my heart. Each blanket, each pillow, each tiny trinket we’d tucked between folds to make it smell more like us —gone. Rolled up. Folded away. It felt like burying someone we loved.

Charlie didn’t say much while we worked, and I didn’t either. What was there to say?

I killed a horrible man. I killed my parents. And now my amazing, reckless, wonderful pack is throwing away everything to keep me safe. To keep us together.

I tried to argue with Rhett. I offered to turn myself in, but that only enraged Myrick.

The beta started screaming that he’d kill Rhett if the alpha allowed that.

Even Charlie threatened to reject them all if they let me go.

It took the pack alpha way too long to calm everyone back down. And in the end, they won.

We’re all leaving the city together .

I should feel grateful. And I do. But mostly, I feel like shit.

Now Charlie and I sit on the couch in the living room, watching chaos spin around us like a storm.

Myrick and Oli are near the door, checking over the bags one last time.

There are four massive suitcases that look like they were made to smuggle boulders, and two carry-ons filled with god knows what.

Charlie’s hand curls over my knee. I can feel the tremor in his fingers.

I’ve apologized so many times already for doing this to him. A thousand times. Maybe more. But the weight of what I’ve done—the price everyone is paying because of me—is still crushing me. I want to say I’m sorry again, but I’m afraid if I do, Charlie might actually scream.

So instead, I lean into him, pressing my cheek against his shoulder, and try to pour what little peace I have left into him. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t pull away either. That’s enough.

Then, as if pulled into the living room by a thread, Oli appears, sweaty and out of breath. His t-shirt is rumpled and his eyes scan the space like a soldier clearing a war zone. But when his gaze lands on Charlie, everything in him softens.

“You okay, baby?” Oli asks gently.

Charlie plasters on a smile. “Yeah. Fine.” The lie is so obvious it makes my chest ache .

Oli’s brows pull together, and he gives Charlie a sad smile, but he doesn’t press. “Okay. Let me know if you need anything.”

Charlie nods, then watches as his mate disappears back down the hall.

The tension in the room is unbearable, so I decide to distract him. “Hey,” I say, lifting my head. “What’s it feel like? Being mated?”

Charlie lets out a breathy laugh. “Weird.”

I smile. “Weird how?”

He lifts his hand and ghosts it near his cheek like he can feel the bond through his skin.

“Oli’s just… right there. Inside my head.

All the time.” He squints like he’s having trouble explaining it.

“He’s always watching me. Feeling me. And every time I’m anything other than totally happy, he starts shoving calm into me like a mental airbag. ”

Jealousy burns low in my belly, but I force a smile. “That sounds amazing.”

Charlie’s eyes go wide and he snorts. “How the hell does that sound amazing? I sneeze too hard and Oli has a full-on anxiety attack.” He shakes his head. “I don’t know how anyone ever gets used to this.”

I laugh softly, leaning into his sweet scent. “I’ve wanted that kind of connection since I transitioned,” I say. “Since I was twelve. I’ve always wanted to be mated.”

Charlie looks at me with something close to sympathy. “Yeah, well… you had time to want it. I didn’t.” He swallows, his voice dropping. “I spent my whole life thinking I was just a short, anxious beta. Turns out I’m not even that. I’m a male omega now. Lowest of the low.”

My head snaps toward him, heat flaring up my spine. I smack his arm—not hard, but not soft either. “Don’t you ever say that again,” I snarl. “And if you do, I’m telling Oli. And Myrick.”

Charlie blinks, caught off guard, then raises both hands. “Okay! I surrender. I won’t say it again.”

Down the hallway, Rhett’s voice booms. “We are not bringing your entire shoe collection, Myrick! Stop trying to add things.”

Myrick makes a dramatic noise. It feels exaggerated, like the beta is trying to cut the tension, but guilt still surges through me again, sharp and unforgiving. They’re all giving up everything— everything —to keep me safe.

Charlie must sense the dip in my mood, because suddenly he says, “You wanna know the craziest part?”

I blink. “What?”

“Becoming an omega means I can literally have a baby.” He shakes his head, laughing under his breath.

“I was just a normal guy a few months ago. Worried about nose hair and early male-pattern baldness. And now? I might grow a whole-ass person inside me.” His eyes go comically wide. “That’s really fucking weird.”

I slip my fingers through his thick hair and grin. “Well, at least the baldness thing’s off the table.”

Charlie’s boxy smile returns. “Small miracles.” He laughs.

There’s a knock at the door—sharp, impatient—but before I have a chance to panic, the handle turns. The chain snaps taut with a metallic clang, stopping whoever’s on the other side from barging in.

“What the fuck?” a voice barks on the other side of the door.

Rhett’s already moving, a blur of alpha intensity as he storms through the house. “ Brock ,” he growls. “When will you learn how to fucking knock like a civilized person?” He unhooks the chain and throws the door open.

An alpha stands there, tall and broad-shouldered, wearing the exact same scowl Rhett has when he’s annoyed—but this one’s tinged with a smug grin. “I did knock,” Brock says, voice full of cocky satisfaction.

Myrick rushes down the hallway like a kid on Christmas morning. The second Brock sees him, the alpha’s whole face lights up. He opens his arms without hesitation, and Myrick walks right into the hug like they’ve done it a hundred times before.

“Thanks for coming,” Myrick says, voice muffled against Brock’s shoulder.

“I wouldn’t dare to let you down,” Brock replies, but then his eyes narrow at Rhett. “Plus, I couldn’t pass up an opportunity to give my perfect brother shit about his two illegal omegas,” he quips.

Rhett’s expression is completely flat, not amused in the least. “This is serious,” he says firmly.

But Brock snorts like it’s no big deal. It’s weird, but I kind of like him. He’s got such a light energy. So wildly different from Rhett, despite the fact that they look almost identical…except the hair.

But I definitely prefer my silver-fox.

Movement near the doorway catches my eye. She’s a tall blonde and clearly a beta. She smiles as she steps inside, sharp-eyed but warm, wearing a worn leather jacket and the kind of jeans that say she doesn’t take shit from anyone.

Rhett steps aside and motions to her. “Please, come on in.”

“Thanks,” she says easily, stepping right up to the living room archway. “Wow,” she hums. “This place is beautiful.”

Brock throws an arm out to gesture at her. “This is my stunning woman, Melissa. Don’t try to shake her hand—she doesn’t believe in handshakes.”

But before anyone can test that, Melissa proves him right by pulling Myrick into a tight hug with surprising force. “You must be Myrick.” She looks the beta up and down. “Brock said you were gorgeous.”

“Uh…thanks.” Myrick laughs, caught between being charmed and alarmed.

Then Oli rounds the corner, wiping his brow with the back of his hand.

Brock’s face brightens the second he spots Oli. “There he is,” he says, moving toward him with a sly smile. “The guy with all the fucking secrets.”

Their handshake is quick, firm—two alphas sizing each other up like it’s habit—before it pulls into a familiar, back-slapping hug.

Oli huffs out a quiet laugh. “I was worried you’d be pissed.”

“Nah.” Brock pulls back, eyebrows raised. “More shocked.” He laughs. “I cannot believe you’re mated.” His voice lowers, like he’s sharing a secret meant to be overheard. “But are you sure about Rhett? I’ve told you what kind of asshole he is. You could definitely do better.”

“What can I say? The old man grew on me.” Oli finally smiles, and I can practically see the worry leave his body.

Yeah. I definitely like Brock.

“Alright.” Brock claps his hands together as he turns to Rhett. “Where are these unfortunate omegas that are stuck with you?”

Rhett doesn’t move right away. He just looks at his brother, confusion lining his brow. “You’re acting weird. Is everything okay?”

Brock’s gaze flickers toward the couch, then he leans in and whispers, “It reeks of fear and rage in here.” He gives Rhett a pointed look. “If someone doesn’t cut the tension soon, I’m going to fall into distress.”

I shift, a little uncomfortable. He’s right. Everything inside me is still wound crazy tight. And it doesn’t help that the room is humming with a bizarre energy—suitcases, shuffling feet, and the low thrum of urgency hangs in the air.

Rhett nods, like he understands what Brock is saying. Then he steps forward, leading his brother and the tall blonde beta—Melissa—into the living room. The pack alpha’s expression softens when he looks at Charlie and me.

“Autry, Charlie,” Rhett says, voice quiet but proud. “This is my brother. Brock—my mates.”

Brock’s expression shifts immediately from a bit silly to serious.

He straightens, shoulders back, then he offers a respectful nod.

“It’s good to meet you both. Really. Rhett’s very lucky.

” There’s no teasing in his tone now, just sincerity.

Then he elbows Rhett’s side, and says, “They are fucking stunning, man. Truly beautiful.”

I smile, happy I could make Rhett proud.

But the second they all move back into the entryway, discussing luggage and logistics, Charlie leans into me and whispers, “That was odd. Right?”

I shrug. “Everyone loves to talk about omegas like we’re furniture. You’ll get used to it.”

Charlie snorts like it’s just one more thing, then he shakes his head. “Unbelievable.”

Thirty minutes later, we have a game plan.

Melissa noticed a police cruiser parked right outside our building when they came in, so they decide it’s best not to use Rhett’s SUV. Thankfully, Brock brought a van that can fit all of us and our luggage, but we’re packed in like sardines .

It also doesn’t help that it’s old, with no seats, and it smells like dusty crackers.

Oli’s shoulder is wedged tight against mine, and Myrick’s knee is pressed to my thigh.

Rhett’s seated across from us, holding Charlie close, his big arms braced behind him like he’s trying to shield the omega from every sudden jolt or bump.

Even Dolly’s curled up on the floorboards, panting lightly, ears perked.

Brock and Melissa are up front, calm as can be. Melissa drives like she’s out on a casual Sunday errand, and Brock leans one arm out the open window like this is a casual drive, despite the fact that it’s almost four o’clock in the morning.

“Everyone stay down,” Brock says over his shoulder. “Another cop passed us. They don’t look too interested, but let’s not tempt fate.”

We all instinctively sink a little lower, trying to shrink ourselves into the shadows of suitcases and tangled limbs. My breath sticks in my throat and my heart beats so hard I swear I can feel it pressing behind my eyes. Like it wants to punch its way out of my skull.

Myrick shifts beside me, pulling his arm free, then he gently takes my hand. His palm is cool and dry, a stark contrast to how clammy mine feels.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, hoping no one is listening. The words scrape out of my throat like broken glass as the van rattles over another speed bump. “I’m just so, so sorry.”

The luggage stacked behind us shifts with the jolt, and Rhett lunges up, slamming a forearm against the top suitcase to keep it from falling on us. Oli quickly reaches up, helping to muscle everything back into place.

“It’s okay,” Myrick whispers, once it’s clear we won’t be crushed. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. ”

I don’t understand why he’s not looking at me like I’m ruining his whole life. Because I am. But instead, he squeezes my hand tighter.

“Your shoes,” I murmur. “And your sweaters. You couldn’t even bring your?—”

“Fuck the shoes.” He cuts me off, voice fierce and low, eyes locked on mine. “You and Charlie are the only things that matter.” His eyes flicker to Dolly. “And my pup.”

My chest pinches and releases at the same time. His words settle something in me. Not everything, but enough.

I nod, blinking fast, and lean back against the side wall of the van.

Still holding his hand.

Still trembling.