Chapter Nineteen

Dylan moved first, because, for all his faults, he was best in a crisis. “Sam, stay here, call nine-one-one.”

“Forget that, I’m calling the station directly.” Sam took his phone out, hitting a few buttons for what must have been a saved number.

Dylan was thankful Sam hadn’t fought that, because the truth was that if people were in the house, Sam would be most useful in his current state staying back and keeping Tracy safe. Mason and Dylan were in better shape to confront an intruder directly.

Dylan didn’t carry his weapon with him most of the time, not when he wasn’t on a case, and he wouldn’t take Sam’s. Instead, he moved the opposite way as the sound, to Sam’s room, and used the code that never changed to Sam’s gun safe. It was closer than his own weapon would have been.

When he returned to the living room, pistol in hand, Mason had grabbed a crowbar from the closet by the front door where Sam kept the tools. A lifted eyebrow was met with a shrug from the larger alpha.

Then again, Mason had always been more comfortable with something blunt. He wasn’t really a man who used much subtlety, and given his size, a crowbar could be lethal.

Dylan moved down the hallway first, gaze searching for clues in the dim house, lit only by the moonlight from outside. The security panel had been dark, and the lights hadn’t worked. It meant they’d turned off the power in addition to bypassing the alarm.

Another sound from down the hallway had him quickening his quiet steps as he neared it. Then the scent of smoke hit him, and he frowned.

Fuck. They’re after the files.

The moment the thought occurred to him, when he realized what the target must have been, Dylan gave up the stealthy route. If whoever it was managed to destroy those files, Tracy would lose her only leverage.

He turned the corner to find more smoke and the crackling of fires on the boxes. The asshole must have put an accelerant on them, because he’d just smelled the smoke and yet they all were going up in flames like fucking gasoline.

Dylan locked eyes with the intruder, something he hadn’t expected. It wasn’t a male at all. Instead, a very slight female stood there, ski-mask obscuring all her face except her bright blue eyes, a lighter in her hand. She tucked it into the belt at her waist but didn’t speak.

Dylan raised the gun toward her. “Come on, nice and slow.”

The woman lifted her hands and walked forward.

“Mason, get water to put these out. We can’t let them get destroyed.” He reached for her wrist, to twist it behind her back.

The woman moved with a speed that surprised him. She spun, knocking the gun from his hand and landing an elbow against his lip. It happened so fast he didn’t even have time to be ashamed for letting it happen. Not because she was female, but because he should have known better than to let anyone get the upper hand.

As fast as it happened, it stopped. Mason was too large and strong, and when he grabbed her by the arm and hauled her against him, the fight ended. He pinned her wrists easily, his crowbar dropped and forgotten, while Dylan shook off the pain in his lip and the way the strike had rattled his brain around in his skull.

“How about you put out the fire,” Mason said, his voice that same amused tone that Dylan hated, full of more than a little mockery. “I’ll handle the little hellcat.”

Dylan did as requested, rushing into the hallway for the fire extinguisher that he knew Sam would have there, the ever-prepared alpha who had seen what fires could do.

Mason held the girl tight, an arm around her throat, her hands pinned behind her, while Dylan put out the flames.

Sam and Tracy came in, though all three alphas tensed at her presence. None of them liked her around anything potentially unsafe, and that included standing in a recently burning room and beside the strange woman who had done it.

Even so, no one was about to stop her, either. The smoke rose from the boxes, and all of them stood silent as they stared.

Everything had been destroyed. The files they needed to keep Tracy safe, to get Mario to back off, they were all gone.

No one spoke. What was there to say?

They were fucked.

* * * *

Tracy stared at the woman in cuffs, the woman who had so quickly shattered the plan she’d thought they had. The moment Tracy had felt like she had solid footing, when they’d had the files, when she’d given in to the alphas and made it through her heat even stronger, this woman had torn it apart.

Why?

The woman—an omega—sat on the porch, her hands cuffed behind her back, police nearby. Now the intruder’s mask was off, Tracy got a good look at her face. She had short, brightly colored blue hair that matched her eyes. She wore a black outfit, tight but old, and she sat without a care.

“She won’t say anything,” Dylan said from the side, his gaze hard. The woman might have been small, but Dylan stared at her with all the aggression of an enemy.

The woman cast a smile full of mockery toward Dylan, as though she weren’t in handcuffs, wasn’t on her way in jail.

Tracy lifted her gaze to Dylan. “Can I have a minute with her?”

“No. In fact, fuck no.”

The woman huffed out a soft laugh and shook her head.

Tracy tried again. “Please? She’s cuffed and you all can watch from over there. I just want a minute.”

Dylan’s eyes narrowed, and his face screamed no.

“Sure,” Sam said, interrupting from behind her. “I think we can give her just a little room.”

It only took a few moments for Sam to shoo away the officers and Dylan, with Mason already inside. They didn’t go far, and Tracy could feel their eyes on her even from that distance. Still, it made her feel safe, made her feel protected.

The woman’s gaze followed where the men had gone, but she made no move to run. “I’ll never understand omegas like you.”

“Like me?”

The woman nodded toward Sam. “Omegas who give up everything for a man. Or, a couple of them, in your case.” She paired the words with a mischief-filled grin. “Dicks are a dime a dozen, and even with three of them, they aren’t worth the trouble.”

Tracy folded her legs and twisted toward the woman. “They’re not so bad.”

The woman shifted as well, wiggling. After a few seconds of quick gymnastics, she’d gotten her hands below her butt and pulled them in front of her. She lifted them toward Dylan who had already crossed half the distance toward her, as though to show she’d moved her hands in front of her but didn’t plan to do anything else.

Tracy waved the alpha off. If the woman wanted to hurt her, she would have already. The conversation was too important to let it end.

The woman continued to speak once Dylan pulled back. “Mario had some shit to say about you and that mate of yours. Didn’t figure you’d jump all back into that hornets’ nest so fast.”

Tracy ignored her comment. What does she know? “If you know what Mario is like, why are you helping him?”

“Same reason anyone does anything. Money.”

“You’re ruining my life over money?”

The woman leaned back against the post of the porch. “Trust me, I did you a favor. The shit in those files? Do you have any idea what people would do to you to get it?” She whistled low. “Believe me, they aren’t the kinds of people you want to fuck with.”

“Coming from someone who works for Mario?”

She waved her bound hands dismissively. “First of all, I don’t work for him. He’s small time, and he’s an idiot. What was in those files, though? It was more than enough to bury you and set a lot of fucking fires if it got out. That mate of yours collected information for well over a decade, and letting everyone know where some of those bodies are buried?” She shook her head. “Nope. Best no one sees what was in them. Well, no one but me.”

A frown pulled at Tracy’s features. “You said you did it for money, so what do you mean you don’t work for Mario?”

“Mario’s job was quick money but that doesn’t mean I work for him. Once I saw what you had, though? Idiot had no idea what was there, and the last thing I’d do is turn those things over to that useless asshole.”

“How did he even know I had them?”

The woman shrugged. “Probably had you tailed. That’s what I would have done, at least. He told me he figured you had the files but he didn’t know where you hid them, so wanted me to check the house.”

Tracy’s temper simmered. The woman talked about those files as though they were unimportant, as though they weren’t discussing Tracy’s safety and that of her daughter. “Well, because of what you did, I can’t negotiate with him anymore. I have nothing to make him go away.”

The woman cocked up an eyebrow. “He was never going to just go away. Problems never do, not until you make them.”

Tracy let her shoulders drop, mirroring the woman’s stance, leaning her back against the opposite post. Envied swamped her for that woman’s life, for that easy confidence, for her ‘I’ve got this’ attitude. “Easy for you to say. I’m not you, though, and I have people to think about.”

After a long silence, the woman let out a soft sigh, the first sign of anything but mockery, the first indication anything sat beneath the woman’s attitude. “Seems to me you’ve got mates and a kid, so you aren’t doing so badly.” Her head struck the post as she let it drop back. “And the shit in those files? The people it outted? You should be really fucking happy it’s gone.”

“So what do I do now that you burned all my leverage?”

The woman offered her a smile full of the same humor she’d worn the whole time. “You woman up and deal with shit. It’s all we ever do.”

Sam sighed as he stared out at the leaving cop cars. The electrician had left just before, after getting their power and alarm system working again. Not that the alarm did any good.

Helplessness ate at him from the inside. It had been the injury before, but now? Now it had worsened. He wanted to take care of Tracy, to protect Karen, but he had no idea how to do that.

The files were gone. They’d been reduced to ash and a few useless scraps of words without context, the woman having used enough accelerant that they were lucky the fire hadn’t destroyed the house. He’d made copies of the few pieces left, the originals going to the police station along with the mysterious woman. His boss had sworn the woman would be under constant guard, and they’d keep her arrest quiet, especially about the files. They couldn’t have Mario finding out about their destruction. Better he just think she failed.

What would happen to her, he had no idea. So far, they hadn’t figured out who she was beyond an omega, the fact supplied by Tracy’s sense of smell. It would take more digging before they knew anything more, and Sam doubted it would help them much anyway.

At least Mario had no idea the files were gone. That was something, right?

So now what he was he supposed to do? No matter how many rocks he turned over, people from above him kept putting roadblocks through official channels. Without hard proof, he couldn’t go to the police or FBI. He’d thought those files would open doors, would give him something solid to force someone’s hand, but now?

Now he didn’t know what the hell they were going to do.

“Well, this fucking blows.” Dylan’s harsh words hardly surprised Sam, though the fact that the other alpha had followed him outside did.

They’d yet to talk much, despite living in the same house together. It seemed they both excelled at ignoring one another.

“Pretty much.” Sam rested his forearms against the railing of the front porch, trying to stretch out his tense, knotted muscles.

Dylan walked up beside him and leaned a hip against the wood. “So, we going to talk or what?”

Sam twisted, mirroring the other alpha’s stance. “About?”

“Come on, don’t be an asshole. This whole talking bullshit isn’t exactly my favorite thing.”

“So why are you doing it?”

Dylan’s dark gaze darted toward the door, to where they both knew Tracy was.

Guess that answers it, huh? Whereas Sam’s mom couldn’t have forced them to make up, whereas he doubted a well-placed blade could get them to talk, it seemed the little omega in the house managed the miracle just fine.

“She wants this,” Dylan offered as though that said it all.

It does, right?

Sam took a deep breath, then forced himself to have the conversation he’d avoided for years. “I’m sorry, okay? What happened with Nora should have never happened. I was stupid, and I should have known better.”

Dylan said nothing for a long while, so long that he expected Dylan to just flip him off. Finally, though, Dylan let out a long breath, his shoulders falling as though a weight had finally fallen free. “Wasn’t your fault. Looking back, I think she always planned it. She wasn’t ever happy with just me.”

“It doesn’t matter if she planned it. I went behind your back, and I know that, and, well, damn, Dylan, I’m sorry, okay?”

Dylan dragged his fingers through his hair. “I know you are. I’ve had a lot of time to be pissed, and trust me, I was. In the end, being pissed is just going to bite me in the ass, and I’m sick of doing that. I’m tired of fucking up my future because of my past. We’re good, okay?”

Guilt Sam hadn’t realized had settled so deeply in him eased at those words. How had he been so burdened by the rift between Dylan and him and never noticed it?

Because he’d cared more about that female who hadn’t wanted either of them than he had about the friend he’d had for all his life. He’d been too busy obsessing over an omega, and in doing so he’d helped to shatter the relationship that meant everything to him.

He swore right then to never let it happen again.

However, it still forced him to broach another topic, one he wasn’t looking forward to. “How do you really seeing this going with Tracy? Because the last thing I want is her hurt because you and I can’t get this thing put behind us. Can you see this working, between all of us?”

At least Dylan mulled the question over. He twisted so his ass pressed against the railing and he stared toward the house, his arms crossing. “I wouldn’t have thought so before. If you’d asked me that first day if I thought we could make this work, if we could seriously share an omega between the three of us, I’d have told you to fuck off.”

Sounded just like him, didn’t it?

“And now?”

He sighed and shook his head, as though he couldn’t believe it himself. “And now, I’m struggling to see a future any other way. How’d this happen? How did I end up in this place where, yeah, I can see this with all of us and for the first time, it feels right?” He shook his head. “The fuck have you all done to me?”

Sam reached out with his good hand and patted his friend on the back, a sense of contentment he’d missed swamping him. Being without Mason, without Dylan had made him feel as though he had no anchor. He’d missed that sense of home his friends had given him, that family, that solid foundation.

As he patted Dylan, the first good real moment between them in five years, he was forced to confront just how much he’d missed, just how unsettled he’d been.

And, maybe that was what hit him as he looked through the window of the house, as he spotted Tracy sipping coffee by the counter in the kitchen.

Sure, he loved that omega. The more time he spent with her, the more he fell hopelessly in love with her. He’d been lost that first night, when he’d stared at her in the ambulance, when she’d protected her child with that ferocity. It had only grown with time, as he’d seen her sweetness, her humor. But, maybe besides any of that, he realized he owed her more than he could ever repay.

His omega had given him back his family.

Tracy sipped her coffee, despite the hour, as Sam and Dylan stood outside after seeing the cops off.

They’d taken the woman, who hadn’t given any sort of information about who she was, to the station. Tomorrow, they’d have to deal with her. They’d need to figure out who she’d worked for, though that seemed obvious. It had to be Mario, because Tracy refused to consider someone else could be after her as well.

The files had been destroyed save for a few scraps of burnt remains, ones that gave no useful information, just tidbits without meaning. She’d glanced at them, but they’d meant nothing to her.

Still, the warmth of the coffee helped chase away the coldness that had settled inside her.

Karen would spend another two days with Claire. Tracy had called while they’d waited for the cops to show, needing to hear her daughter’s voice, to know she was okay. The girl was having a wonderful time, being spoiled rotten by Claire and her alphas, no doubt.

It helped ease the guilt of not being able to protect her own daughter.

Mason walked into the kitchen, his gaze careful. “Should probably get some sleep, kitten.”

“Probably.” She took another drink instead.

He sighed, then came closer. “We’ll figure this out.”

By we’ll he meant he, Sam and Dylan, because other people took care of Tracy. Claire had Karen, and these three had to handle all Tracy’s problems.

She’d never taken care of herself. Never dealt with her own issues. If anything, she just made more of them then waited around for someone more qualified to fix them.

She grunted out a sound that was less classy than she usually tried for before twisting slightly as Sam and Dylan came back inside.

The three alphas filled so much of the space of the house and so much of her thoughts, too.

Sam set a hand on her back, rubbing as if that could take away the issues of the night. It didn’t, all the problems still hanging on her shoulders, yet it did ease the tightness in her chest. She leaned back, letting herself rest against his solid body behind her.

Dylan picked up her cup, gaze narrowing at the coffee. So, another one who didn’t care for her drinking caffeine so late at night? Then again, Dylan liked his sleep, so she supposed she understood. He dumped the cup in the sink without anything more than a quiet huff.

Mason caught her chin, lifting her gaze to his. “Come on, kitten, let’s go to bed.”

“Why? Is that going to fix any of this?”

He pressed his large thumb to her bottom lip before slipping into the warmth of her mouth. “Nope. However, I promise that tomorrow ain’t going to be any easier to deal with if you’re sleep deprived and grouchy.”

Tracy tried to glare, she really did. When he pulled his thumb back, then fed it past her lips again, her brain went an entirely different direction. She imagined his thumb being something far more interesting.

Suddenly the tension in her body melted, not going away but transforming into something new. Mason’s lips curled up after a slow inhalation.

Sam pulled her hair back, then toyed with the sensitive skin over her neck. “Come on, let’s get some sleep.”

Dylan snorted as he checked the newly fixed alarm and locked the doors. “Yeah, with the way she’s smelling, I doubt anyone is going to be sleeping.”

Mason kicked up that eyebrow and flashed his lazy grin at Dylan. “Hey, you’re welcome to go to bed and get your precious sleep if you’d rather.”

A playful growl left Dylan before he grabbed Tracy, tossing her over his shoulder as he had the night he’d gone down on her. The action forced a startled yelp from her, his hard shoulder pressed against her stomach. “There’s no fucking way you’re having all the fun.”

Tracy smacked her hand on his back. “Don’t I get a say in this?”

Dylan grasped her ass in one hand and wrapped his fingers around to press against her cunt through her slacks. He teased her, grinding against her clit, the action enough to bring back all the lust Mason had started in her from the truck ride. A low moan left her lips, one full of all the things she wanted and all the ways they could distract her.

“There’s your say, Red,” Dylan said. “And it sounds like a yes to me.”