Page 123 of Unhinged

"Someone else is here," he says, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. "Says Brydgett invited him. Muscular dude. Kinda scary. But, uh…he looks spooked."

I blink. My stomach flips.

I know who it is before I even move.

I clap my hands together once, sharp enough to make Franko flinch, and head for the door without waiting for permission.

Behind me, I hear Arrow muttering, "Who the fuck now?"

When I step into the hallway, I see him.

Broad as a damn truck, every inch of him—muscle and ink—like he walked out of some soldier-of-fortune ad. He’s wearing a camo jacket and his hair’s a mess, short and wild, that messy strawberry-blond that looks too soft for a guy built like a fucking tank.

Marcus.

My heart squeezes, weird and tight.

He’s standing just inside the front door, hands shoved deep into his pockets, big body tense like he’s ready to bolt or fight or both. His eyes find mine and the fear there—it ain’t for himself.

It’s for me.

I don’t think. I just move. I cross the room in a few quick steps and throw my arms around Marcus’ big, solid body.

"Thanks for coming," I whisper against his chest. He smells like cinnamon buns.

He hesitates, just for a second, then hugs me back, big hands spanning almost the whole width of my back. "Almost didn’t," he mutters, voice low enough only I can hear. "But I decided I needed to check out these alphas you're shacked up with."

Behind me, Gears lets out a growl low enough to vibrate the walls.

Arrow grunts, not even trying to hide it.

Acid curses under his breath.

I pull back from Marcus, rolling my eyes, and spin to face my growly, pissed-off alphas.

"What is the problem now?" I snap.

Gears crosses his arms over his chest, scowling like he’s about to hand out death sentences. "You need to stop hugging other alphas, Omega," he says. "Or you're going over my knee."

I laugh—a real, belly-deep. “I’d love to see you try.”

Turning back to Marcus, I wave a hand at the room. "Everybody, this is Marcus. Marcus, meet Gears, Arrow, and Acid."

They give him hard nods, the kind that sayswe’ll gut you if you touch her wrong, but Marcus just lifts his chin, calm as ever.

"Marcus lived in the alley behind my old apartment," I tell them. "He pitched a tent back there the first winter I lived there. Been friends ever since." I shrug. "He lives in my old place now. I invited him the other day when I went to see Georgia. She didn’t wanna come?" I ask, looking back at my friend.

Marcus chuckles under his breath. "Georgia didn't wanna come," he says. "Said it was past her bedtime. But told me to tell you to send pics if any old single men show up."

I snort, covering my mouth.

"Come on," I say, grabbing Marcus’ arm and tugging. "Let's all go get a drink."

Gears catches my wrist before I get far, pulling me back against his chest. "We were having a conversation, Omega," he reminds me.

I twist around in his arms, grinning up at him. "Franko’s gonna be here all weekend. It can wait. I wanna have a good time. Everyone’s here now.”

Gears huffs—not happy about it, but not shutting me down either. "Fine," he says finally. "Franko, you and your guests can stay in the empty rooms. Pick whichever ones you want."