Page 13 of Unbonded (Pack’s Companion #3)

As my so-called contractor storms out the front door, I collapse onto the bottom step, too shattered to stay upright.

A wild, hunted sound twists out of me, making my scent gland throb, and I drop my head into my shaking hands.

I know I should go to the cops and demand a restraining order, but what’s the point?

Stanley King is an upstanding alpha, while I’m the omega who was thrown away by one of his peers.

I’m pretty sure the cops would just deliver me to Stanley’s doorstep in one of their squad cars, patting him on the back and chuckling about flighty omegas.

When I gain the energy to peel myself off the floor, I send Dash a text telling him I’m unwell and asking to postpone our date for a couple of days.

It’s not exactly a lie, but when he tries to call me, I let it go to voicemail.

It’s a cowardly move, but I know that if I hear his voice, I’ll fall apart.

And there’s no way I’m dragging Dash into this mess with Stanley King.

Exhausted, I make myself a sandwich and force myself to eat it.

As I gather up the Safe Haven information packet and shove it back into the envelope, I’m very aware of the irony.

A man who’s supposed to help me just forced his way into my home, proving it’s the very opposite of a refuge, and now I’m thinking about selling my heat to a pack of strangers…

I don’t realize I’m crying until my tears start to plink on my empty plate.

How the hell did I get here?

A dozen answers churn through my brain before I settle on one.

Because I was a young omega in love with a manipulative alpha.

As I look around the empty house, Lachlan’s words feel strangely comforting, and I pick up my phone, my resolve hardening.

Swiping at my damp cheeks, I check his business card on the front of the Safe Haven envelope and send him a text, asking if we can take my application to the next stage.

Even though it’s been a few days, he replies immediately, suggesting Friday after work.

It’s the same time I planned to catch up with Dash, but I just give a hollow laugh and tell him I’ll meet him then.

My life might be spiraling out of control, but at least I can do something about the nightmare of my looming heat.

Although, as I drag myself out of the house just before eight, I feel frozen down to my bones.

My instincts tell me it’s not the flimsy excuse for a dress I’m wearing under my coat, or the fact that the cab driver insists on blasting the A/C.

There’s a cold sweat crawling over my skin, and the sandwich I forced myself to eat feels like a clenched fist in my belly.

Waves of nausea are lapping against my bond scar, and for a horrible moment I wonder if the phantom pain of my unbonding is back.

For months after Lee left, I thought I could feel his ghost in our ruined bond, leaving me so wrung out I had to take a sleeping pill just to get through the night.

Wrapping an arm across my churning stomach, I can’t quite swallow back a moan.

The driver has been shooting me troubled glances ever since he picked me up, and when we pull up at the curb outside Stanley’s club, he turns and says, “Are you alright, miss? Maybe it’s not my business, but you smell like you’re in pain. ”

“I’m fine,” I lie, but my voice cracks as I stare out the window at the club.

It looks as sleazy as the dress Stanley made me wear, and I clutch my coat tighter as I climb out.

The street smells like alpha sweat and trash cans, and a fresh wave of nausea almost puts me on my knees.

I stagger towards the wall, but before I can reach it, a shadow falls over me, a hand on my elbow drawing me away from the club. “You’re not going in there.”

“What?” I look up into the alpha’s stony face, but he’s steering me over to a sleek SUV before it clicks where I’ve seen him before. “Mr. Webber?”

“Bram,” he replies as he opens the passenger door, motioning for me to climb inside. “Please. Just let me get you off this sidewalk.”

“But…” I look back at the club, wondering how to describe the predicament I’m in.

“Just sit with me for a moment, Kate. I promise you; it’ll be okay.”

I don’t know why I believe him, but my nausea fades as soon as I climb into his car. It’s Bram-sized, and his warm leather scent surrounds me as he settles into the driver’s seat. I turn to look at him curiously. “Is this just a coincidence?”

He rests his large hands on the steering wheel but doesn’t start the car. “No. I was in the area when Dash told me you were sick. I thought I’d stop by and see if you needed anything, but then I passed you in the cab. I thought maybe you were going to urgent care, so I followed you.”

I can feel the shame burning in my cheeks. “It’s not what it looks like.”

“You didn’t blow Dash off to go dancing in that place?”

He nods towards the club, and the laugh that rips out of me sounds like broken glass. “Definitely not. I’m here because I didn’t have a choice.”

He goes still, his eyes dipping down to my lap.

The coat has slipped open a little, giving him a clear view of the tight dress plastered to my body.

It’s the kind of cheap, clinging fabric I’d never work with, let alone wear, and I feel my cheeks burn with humiliation.

When I tug my coat closed, his gaze jerks back to the club door. “Do you work there?”

I’m pretty sure he knows it’s a strip club, but there’s no judgment in his voice. Just a cold, steady anger that has his knuckles turning white on the wheel. “Not how you think, but I’m here because of a debt.”

My cell buzzes at that moment, and I dig it out of my purse to see Stanley’s name on the screen. I can’t hide my reaction, and Bram nods at the phone. “Is he the problem?”

It’s a strange way to put it, and I shrug. “He’s one of them.”

He doesn’t say anything, and when Stanley starts calling for a second time, I mute the phone and push it back into my purse. “He’s the contractor working on my house. I owe him money I don’t have, and he’s being difficult about the repayments.”

“Hmm.” His fingers tap the wheel again, faster now. “And he’s in there?”

“He’s a part-owner, I think. He told me I had to be here at eight…

” I grimace as I look at the clock on the dash.

Stanley is going to be furious if I don’t show and I hate the way it makes my skin tighten with panic.

I can feel Bram watching me, and I say defensively, “I wouldn’t be here if I had a choice. ”

He makes a low sound in his throat, but he just nods and punches something into the screen on his dash. “What’s his name?”

“Stanley King. Why?”

“And his company?”

“Kingdom Projects, in Borough Park.”

I’m about to ask him why he wants to know when the dash screen rings, and a gruff voice rattles through the speakers like gravel. “Bram, what have you got for me?”

“Another name to add to your list,” the alpha next to me replies. “Stanley King. He’s a contractor in Queens, but he’s also a part-owner of the Red Haze on Grand.”

“That shithole?” I cringe into my seat, but to my surprise, Bram reaches out and places his hand over mine. Not squeezing, just resting it there, his body heat soaking into my skin. “Okay, that’s enough for me to look into the guy. Anything else?”

“Not for now.”

“Take care, man.”

The call ends and Bram nods at the dark screen. “Perry is a detective in the FBI’s Financial Crimes Unit. I’ve done some forensic accounting for a couple of his cases, and I just added King to his persons of interest list.”

My mouth falls open. An hour ago, I was despairing that if I asked the cops for help, they would probably deliver me up to Stanley’s doorstep, and now this strange alpha has turned the tables on him in the most unexpected way. “What will happen to him?”

Bram shrugs, his wide shoulders flexing in his dark shirt. He’s wearing all black, and the color looks so good on him I feel a flutter in my chest. Although maybe that’s just my grateful little heart, because for a moment I don’t feel so completely alone.

“Depends how dirty he is,” Bram goes on, his gaze still narrowed on the club door. “But that place is bad news. When Perry was looking into an omega trafficking ring, it came up as a buyer. My guess is that most of the omegas working there don’t have much of a choice about it.”

I groan, my stomach now rolling with a different kind of nausea.

Stanley has invited me here numerous times and I always managed to use work as an excuse to turn him down.

But he insisted this time, maybe because of the Safe Haven pack he found on my kitchen bench.

He’s crossing lines more than ever, and I’m pretty sure he’s decided I’ll work off my debt right here.

I bite my lip, my eyes blurring as I stare at the club door.

What would have happened if Bram hadn’t stepped in?

“I didn’t know,” I whisper, wrapping my arms around myself. I’m so cold I can barely feel my fingertips. “I mean, I knew he was an asshole, but…”

Bram’s hand is now snaking around behind my shoulders, and after a tiny pause, he pulls me into his side.

There’s still the console between us, but he’s so big it feels like I’m being enveloped by his warm body.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, his knuckles brushing my cold cheek. “I’ll take care of it, okay?”

I know I shouldn’t get my hopes up – monsters like Stanley King don’t go away easily - but I can’t resist closing my eyes.

It feels so good to be comforted by another person, especially when they carry a whiff of Dash on their skin.

Not that Bram doesn’t smell amazing in his own right.

In fact, his scent is almost as cozy as Corbus’ cedarwood fragrance, and I arch my neck, chasing its source.

It buzzes across my skin, and I squirm, trying to get closer.