Page 91 of Unhinged

Acid leans back, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “She mentioned school yesterday... but she’s not talking about keeping him local. Wants him in that fancy private school across town. Said she was saving for it.” He pauses, eyes flicking toward the hallway like he can still see her. “I could see it in her eyes, Arrow. She wants to get back to work. Back to her life. She don’t like being dependent on anyone—especially when it comes to the boy. She’s fighting her nature every damn day, trying not to rely on us like an omega’s wired to.”

I tense up. The words hit hard, like rocks in my stomach.

Judge must pick up on the tension. Without a word, he slides off his chair and heads down the hall, the soft patter of his footsteps the only sound as he disappears.

“I thought you had a good time yesterday,” I snap, a little harsher than I mean to. “So what’s with the change of attitude?”

Acid shrugs, lazy and unconcerned. But I know him. That tick in his jaw says he’s thinking about it more than he’s saying. “I don’t know. She’s just... here, but not.In,but not. She’s driving me crazy. I ain’t never wanted someone so bad who doesn’t wanna be wanted.”

I exhale slowly, dragging a hand through my hair. “She’s rough around the edges, Acid. Just go slow.”

“Rough around the edges,” he scoffs, then snorts. “Brother, the omega is like hugging a barbed wire-wrapped teddy bear.”

Despite myself, I laugh—just a short bark of sound. Yeah. He’s not wrong.

“She’s not running,” I mutter. “She’s just... checking the locks. Making sure the fire escape still works.”

He glances at me. “But what if she bolts again?”

I meet his eyes, steady. “We chase.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

BRYDGETT

I hang up the phone and drop it beside me onto the bed like it personally offended me. Coffee’s still warm between my hands, bitter and sweet, but it does jack shit to calm the buzz crawling beneath my skin.

The school was no help. Bunch of clipboard-carrying cowards hiding behind policies that don’t protect shit. I sip, inhale, exhale slowly through my nose. Don’t growl. Don’t throw the mug.

I grab the phone and hit call on Ike.

“Brydge,” he answers on the second ring.

“You heard or seen anything? Earl?”

“No. Been a damn ghost town.” A chair creaks in the background. Probably his favorite ugly-ass kitchen stool he refuses to replace. “Couple guys at the gym asked about Eric, though.”

My spine goes rigid. “What’d you tell them?”

“That he met a girl and ran off to chase her. Which ain’t a total lie.”

My laugh is dry. “He chased something, alright.”

“How are things there?”

“Fine.”

“And your Kismets?”

I roll my eyes so hard I swear I see stars. “Annoying. Protective. Assholes.”

“So everything you need and what you wanted.”

“Not funny, Ike.”

He chuckles, like I’m nineteen again and bitching about my first black eye.

“I don’t know how tobean omega in a pack,” I mutter. “I don’t do frilly and easy and ‘let me cook you dinner and rub your back, Alpha.’ That shit’s not me.”