Chapter Two

Sam paced the long hallway outside the conference rooms.

“Just go in already.” Bran leaned against the wall, watching Sam refuse to stand still.

“She didn’t ask for me.”

“So? You’re here, ain’t you?” Bran twisted a paperclip in his hands, a nervous habit that came from his endless attempts to quit smoking. While he didn’t work closely with Bran all that often, the other officer was a good one, despite being far too nosy.

“If she wanted me, she could have asked.” Sam shoved his hands into his pockets, trying to stay out of the way.

People rushed from room to room, taking statements, running background checks. The attack on the omega house wasn’t the sort of thing that happened by accident. Six bedroom windows and no injuries? Either a miracle, or someone meant it to be a warning.

“People don’t always ask for what they want.” Bran gave a not-too-subtle nod in Sam’s direction.

Point taken.

“She doesn’t need to see me like this anyway.”

“Yeah, sure, omegas hate when men get all protective.” The eye-roll Bran offered would have made a teenage girl proud.

Still, he knew he was right. An omega with a past like Tracy’s didn’t need to see the sort of rare violence Sam had going on in his head. It meant he’d resigned himself to the background, to the details and the evident and the things that left him out of sight and it seemed, out of mind.

She should have asked for me.

Just as the petty, sullen thought crossed his mind, a familiar face appeared when he turned the corner into the break room.

Karen stood, staring at the vending machine with the sort of empty expression he’d seen before.

Poor girl had been through too much, seen too much. She didn’t need this on top of it all.

Should I turn around? Her mother didn’t want to see me. Maybe I shouldn’t get involved.

As he convinced himself to back away, Karen turned and met his gaze. The little girl’s bottom lip trembled, the subtle show of upset before she tried to bury it.

Sam couldn’t walk away, not after that, not after Karen tried to be so damn brave. She shouldn’t have to do that.

He waved off Bran and crossed the hallway, then pulled a dollar from his pocket and slid it into the machine. “I like the chocolate the best.”

“Mom said I should get something healthy.”

He laughed, popped in the C-6 for the chocolate bar, then slid another dollar into the machine before getting one of the apples at the top. “There. Now you did what she said but you get some chocolate, too. I think you’ve earned some chocolate.”

Karen reached into the area at the bottom where the food rested. “Mom’s scared,” she whispered.

“I know. We’re going to figure it out though, don’t you worry.”

She bit at her bottom lip, her gaze down. “She’s packing.”

Sam crouched so Karen would look at him. “What do you mean, she’s packing?”

Karen shifted her food to one hand, then reached into her pocket. She withdrew a piece of paper but didn’t turn it over. “Just afterward, she threw all our stuff into bags.”

Sam tried to keep the frown from his face, but he doubted it worked. A startle like that is sure to make anyone want to run, right? Especially with Tracy’s past. “What happened probably just freaked her out. She’ll settle down, and everything will be fine.”

Karen fiddled with the paper, twisting it as if she wanted to give it to him but was afraid to. Finally, she shoved the note into his hand.

Sam took it, opening the paper until he could make out the words. Each word, every hardly-veiled threat, had his temper rising.

Temper wasn’t something he normally had a problem with. Things just slid off him, never getting him angry, never getting below his calm, cheerful exterior.

The idea that someone had threatened Tracy, that they’d taken a shot at her, that they’d frightened her in a place that should have been a sanctuary had him wanting to bare his teeth.

“Where did you get this?”

Karen scraped her foot against the tile floor. “Mom hid it under her mattress, where she always hid things from Dad. She doesn’t know I took it.” Karen lifted her head to meet his gaze. “I don’t want to run again.”

Sam set his hand on the girl’s shoulder and squeezed. “You won’t have to run again, I promise.”

“What about that?” She gestured toward the paper.

“Don’t you worry about this.” Sam tucked it into his pocket. “Whoever wrote this? They can’t get you.”

“You promise?”

Sam nodded, his words suddenly mattering like they never had before. He wasn’t a liar by nature, but lying to Karen was just wrong. “Yeah, kid, I promise. I’ll take care of it.”

When Sam entered the conference room, Karen having stayed in the chair just outside, Tracy didn’t even turn her head at first.

She looked exhausted. How long had she been there? Five hours? Sam fought the desire to just haul her out, over his shoulder if needed, and deposit her into his bed to sleep. It was where she should have been from the start. They could talk about the attack and the threat later. None of it mattered more than her well-being.

But she wouldn’t give in to that, and even trying it would send her running, so Sam tamped down the desire. Instead, he inhaled so her scent filled his nostrils.

Tracy must have done the same, because she spun toward him, knocking over the chair she’d been sitting in, her eyes as wild as her red hair.

Sam lifted his hands, palms out, and stayed by the door to give her space.

He’d seen her have this fight before, watched her warring between wanting to trust him and fearing him. His alpha side, that terrified her. But the man? Him, she knew. Hell, he was pretty sure that part of him she even liked.

So, Sam waited for her gather her courage, for her to let the knee-jerk reaction fade and think through the fear.

It happened, slower than he’d have liked, slower than it had when she’d stayed at his place. Was it the attack? The distance? He’d hoped the month apart would let her feel more secure, but that wasn’t how it seemed.

She’s just been through a lot. At the reminder, he tried to let go of the tension inside him. That tension seemed odd. Sam wasn’t a tense man. At thirty-seven, he’d found little would bother him.

This bothered him.

Tracy’s shoulders slumped and she dropped her gaze to his feet, as though she couldn’t not watch him but couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eye, either. “Sorry,” she whispered.

The shame in those words tugged at him.

“Nothing to be sorry about.” He meant it about more than that moment. She didn’t have a damned thing to be sorry about, and he wished she believed him.

Instead of acknowledging that, she wrapped her arms around herself, her thick red hair braided and hanging over one shoulder. She wore a sweater, thick and baggy and unassuming. It was how she’d dressed since he’d first met her, as if she tried to attract as little notice as possible. A stupid plan, because the woman was breathtaking no matter how much she tried not to be. The freckles that stood out on her face made her look sweet, especially when paired with those bright amber eyes, too big and innocent to be fair.

Tracy took a step backward, and that woke him up. Right, don’t leer at her, you idiot.

“What are you doing here?” she asked with a hesitation, a nervousness that said she wasn’t sure she was even allowed to ask.

“I work here,” he reminded her, instead of admitting to the truth.

“Right.”

He fought a smile at the way she said that, as if she’d forgotten. She hadn’t forgotten, just hoped to avoid him, he’d bet, especially if she planned to run.

The last thing she’d want was to get back on his radar if she was going to up and disappear. Of course, how the silly woman could think she’d ever gotten off his radar, he didn’t understand.

Then again, understanding women was something no man—alpha or otherwise—was any good at.

“I’m fine.” She took her seat again after picking it back up. “You don’t need to worry.”

Like hell I don’t.

Once he was sure she wasn’t going to head straight into a panic attack, Sam fully entered the room and took the seat across from her, using the table as a barrier for her comfort. He wanted to grab her, to pull her into his arms, to feel all those subtle curves beneath the baggy clothes she wore and explore each one, to promise he’d let nothing happen to her, not ever. Except, he knew damned well that wouldn’t happen, not with how flighty she was.

Hell, with how covered up she stayed, he had no idea what was even beneath those far-too-big clothes she wore. She was thin—too thin really—given her neck and hands. She’d put on weight over the time since her mate’s passing, over her weeks with him. Still, he yearned to discover her hip-to-waist ratio, to see if she had dimples on her ass, to see how far down those mass of freckles went.

Her eyes widened and her cheeks reddened. The start of something that could almost be interest sprang in her eyes before fear overtook it.

Knock it off. It’s not as if you’re going to sleep with her here, anyway.

Sam called on his easy-going nature before tipping his lips into his normal, charming smile. Better to not address all that lust she must have scented from him. Talking about it wouldn’t make her feel safer. She’d just have to learn he wouldn’t hurt her, and that would take time.

Thankfully, time he had. Sam had never been afraid to play the long game, to wait for what he wanted, and there was no doubt in his mind that he wanted this omega. It all came down to if he could convince her of that.

“I saw Karen down the hall.”

Tracy toyed with the hem of the sweater as she sat. “She’s afraid. She’s been through enough, and she shouldn’t have to be afraid anymore.”

“She’s a tough kid, like her mom. She’ll be fine.”

Tracy’s soft nod and hard eyes screamed her thoughts. She’ll be fine because we won’t be here anymore. Poor woman thought she could just skip town like that? That no one would know or care?

Still, he approached things carefully. Conversations were minefields with flighty omegas, and he didn’t need this one blowing up in his face. “What’s your plan?”

“Plan?” A tinge of hysteria colored the word. “They said the windows would be fixed by night, and they’ve already put in extra security.”

“No. What are you going to do? Running won’t help.”

Her face paled. “I don’t know what you’re—”

Sam pushed the piece of paper across the table, and she didn’t even reach for it. She didn’t need to, did she? Instead, she watched the note as if it were a spider, slinking around and waiting to strike. “Where did you get that?”

“Does it matter?”

A pause. “Karen found it. I should have known she’d figure out my hiding spot.”

“She asked me to keep you guys safe.”

“She shouldn’t have asked you.” The tremble in Tracy’s voice showed she wasn’t as dead-set on going as she seemed.

“Come on, honey. You don’t want to pick up and take off again, not when you two are finally getting your feet under you. Let me help.” Let me take care of you.

She dragged her tongue against her bottom lip, shifting in the chair. He could almost see each thought that crossed her mind, each objection, each fear. She didn’t want to be a burden, she was afraid he couldn’t help her, she was afraid of him.

Finally, Tracy met his gaze, the fight gone from her tired, amber eyes. “This isn’t your responsibility.” Even as she said it, he heard beneath the words. She wanted him to help, she just didn’t know how to ask for it.

“It is now. I swore to her I would, and I don’t make promising I won’t keep. Until we’ve figured this out, you’re stuck with me, honey.”

* * * *

Walking into Sam’s house conflicted Tracy. Being there again made her uneasy, yet the warm decor, the lived-in furniture and the atmosphere made her feel safe.

It’s not the house, you coward. It’s the alpha.

Karen rushed past her, her colorful backpack slung over her shoulder as she ran for her room.

Tracy went to tell the little girl to wait, but Sam waved off her concern. “Room is still set up for her, don’t worry. Never changed a thing in it.”

After a month? “Why not?”

Sam carried Tracy’s bags himself, having snorted softly when she’d attempted to help. The sight of him hefting the bags over his broad shoulder had managed to make Tracy’s stomach flip, to some strange place between desire and fear.

“I was hoping you’d come back. What can I say? I’m a hopeless romantic,” he said.

Tracy opened her mouth to refute the whole ‘romantic’ part of his statement, but he didn’t wait around long enough for her to. Instead, he passed her, heading in the same direction as Karen, to the spare room he’d given to her. Not more than a minute later, she heard the hushed whispers of Sam and Karen, up to no good, she was sure. When she and Karen had stayed with Sam before, he Sam and Karen had worked sneakily together to get whatever they wanted. Desserts, special dinners, time at the park. Tracy constantly felt outnumbered, which should have annoyed her.

Instead, it had been strange to have someone who listened to Karen, someone she could play that ‘us against them’ game with the way she did with Sam. She deserved that sort of foundation, that stability.

Sure enough, Karen walked out with a grin that said they’d come up with an idea Tracy wouldn’t like.

“What are you up to?” Tracy asked.

“I want to spend the night with Claire.”

The idea seized her chest. She didn’t let Karen go places often, and after the fright at the group home? The thought of Karen out of her sight had terror freezing her.

Sam spoke up from behind Karen. “Claire’s place is a fortress, you know that. I think she could use a night away, and you and I could talk.” When she was ready to argue, Sam added, “I don’t think you want her overhearing our conversation, do you?”

At that, Tracy paused. Sam meant their talk about who had left that note, about what had happened. He hadn’t pushed at the station, only explaining how running wouldn’t work. Whoever had orchestrated that message had done so with no less than four highly trained snipers, given the simultaneous shots fired and the distance from where they’d shot from. Not to mention, they had to have watched her for a while since they knew where the bedrooms were and had gotten a note inside.

A person like that wouldn’t let her run off, not until they got what they wanted. Karen didn’t need to be there, didn’t need to hear those details. She deserved a night away, a night to just be a kid, and she trusted Claire like no other.

Tracy forced herself to nod. “Okay. I’ll call her.”

Two hours later, Claire and the three alphas she lived with had picked up Karen. The idea of her being in a house with alphas put Tracy on edge, but she knew Claire, and the three alphas had proven themselves.

As trustworthy as any alpha could, at least. Alphas weren’t all bad, weren’t all like Richard, but Tracy had dealt with enough that she struggled to remember it.

It left Sam and her alone, with him seated in the recliner he tended to use during the evenings and her perched on the edge of the couch in case she needed to bolt.

It again reminded her of how different they were. He was large, quiet, steady. He smiled easily, talked to others easily, had all the confidence in the world. A slight five-o’clock shadow had sprung up on his strong jawline, but it did nothing to dull his sweet-natured look.

“Talk to me, honey. I just want to help.”

Tracy took a deep breath before spilling the details, her gaze down on her hands where she twisted them. Sam asked questions, and she answered them as best she could. The main point, though? She knew nothing about what Richard had done for a living. He’d left her out of that part of his life, and she had no idea who he knew, where he might have kept any files or even what he did.

Sam remained silent for most of the story, letting her pour it out. At the end, he remained quiet, a slight twitch in his eyes the only sign he’d heard her, that he still thought about it. Finally, he nodded. “I know Mario Navarro. He’s involved in things most of the police force doesn’t acknowledge. He’s paid off a lot of people to keep his nose clean, or at least keep it looking that way, and he’s more than capable of doing what he said he could.”

“What do we do, then?”

“I’ll go talk to him.”

Tracy sat up straight, an instant no on her lips. “You can’t do that.”

Sam offered her that smile that melted parts of her she’d thought were frozen solid. “You worried about me?”

“No,” she said, afraid of Sam seeing too much, of him expecting something, of him mistaking her worry for affection. “He said if I went to the police, I’d be sorry.”

“Trust me, I’ll handle it. Nothing will happen to you or Karen.”

She didn’t push as much as she wanted to. She’d learned a long time before not to argue with an alpha once they’d made up their mind. It never ended well for her. Her best bet had always been to keep her head down and just try to survive. The only choices she’d made in her life had been disastrous, so leaving it to others had always proved safer.

She left the subject be and tried to gather courage to broach another topic. “I can’t do this,” she whispered.

“Do what? Talk to me?”

Tracy risked a glance up to meet his lovely dark brown eyes, so many shades deeper than her own amber. “I know you want something from me that I can’t give you.”

“How would you know if you haven’t asked me?”

“Because I can see it. I can smell it. You want things from me, things I’m not capable of. I appreciate what you’ve done for Karen and me, I can’t ever thank you enough for that, but, Sam—”

“I heard you weren’t sleeping in the group home. I can see the bags under your eyes.”

“So?”

“So, you were sleeping here. Are you really going to say you didn’t like being here? That Karen didn’t like it?”

“I needed to stand on my own.”

“Did I hobble you? Did I keep you from doing anything?”

No, he hadn’t. If anything, he’d pushed her to try new things, to regain that footing she’d lost. He’d given her space, freedom and a safe place to be when the world and her past overwhelmed her. He’d been the one to suggest counseling, to offer self-defense class information, to wait in the car as she’d run errands, telling her she could handle them even as fear had pricked at her.

Tracy took her bottom lip between her teeth and stopped hiding. “Eventually you were going to get tired of what I can’t give you. You wouldn’t have been happy with me not wanting anything physical. Everything has a price, and I can’t pay what you want from me.” Admitting it hurt. Even though she couldn’t be what Sam was looking for, she hated having to say it out loud, having to put her shortcomings and flaws on display, even to a man who knew them. She hated it more because she wanted what he did but wasn’t capable of it.

Sam reached out, moving slowly enough, she could have pulled away.

She didn’t.

He set his large, warm palm on her hand, the weight reassuring. “I’m not asking for anything you won’t give me yet.”

“Yet?” The word came out rough when she caught the promise there, the certainty.

His lips curled up into a smile that had her lower stomach tightening, a flash of desire so quick and subtle that she almost missed it. “Yeah, honey, yet. I’ll wait as long as it takes, but you’re going to give in.”

“How can you be so sure?”

Sam traced her knuckles with his thumb, the touch teasing and coaxing. “Because I’ve seen you look at me, too, and even if you try to hide it, you want me. You’ve just got to realize it.”

Tracy wanted to argue, but the gentle sweep of his thumb against her skin said differently.

No matter how it frightened her, she did want him.

* * * *

Sam didn’t like to walk into situations without a plan. Some things couldn’t be helped, though, and this wasn’t the sort of thing he could bring back-up to.

Mario sat at a table in the Italian restaurant Sam’s contacts had tipped him off about.

Maybe this was a terrible idea. There’s no ‘maybe’ about it. Walking up to a known criminal and telling them to knock it off? Always a brilliant plan.

Still, Sam didn’t have many options. He figured one good scare and Mario would back off. He couldn’t consider whatever Richard had worth it to get on the radar of a cop. People like Mario were about risk vs reward. Sam needed to show him that the risk was too great to bother.

He took a seat across from Mario, who raised his hand when his hulking guards came forward.

“And who might you be?”

Sam lifted his badge, flashing it to Mario before tucking it away again.

Mario cocked up an eyebrow, then took a sip of the wine in front of him. “And to what do I owe a visit from the city’s finest?”

“I’m here on behalf of a woman you sent a message to yesterday.”

Mario set the glass down slowly, his gaze hard but giving no other sign of surprise or concern. “Yet you’re not here with anyone else. You aren’t here in an official manner, are you?”

“Does it matter? I can make life very difficult for you.”

Mario laughed. “I have the FBI watching me, and the local police and another handful of organizations who would all like to see me brought down. I doubt you can cause me any additional trouble. If you could, you wouldn’t be sitting here like this.” He leaned back, staring at Sam. “Tracy wouldn’t have gone to the police on her own. She’s a broken coward.”

A rumble in Sam’s chest told him he’d growled. He cut it short, cursing himself for the mistake.

Mario caught it, a vicious smile on his thin lips. “That explains it, doesn’t it? This little show of dominance you’re doing, it isn’t about your job. That means it must be personal. Well, well, didn’t she move on fast? I would have thought of her as an omega who took things slower, but then again, what else do they really do?”

Sam unlocked his jaw when his molars started to ache. Relax. Don’t let it get to you. “If anything happens to her, you won’t like what I do.”

“You won’t do a thing. If you take this to your boss, they’ll tell you to lay off. If you push, I’ll push harder. Tell your whore that the only way she and that child of hers get out of this in one piece is to do what I’m asking. If she gets me what I want, everyone walks away. It’s not so bad a deal.”

“Call her a whore again and see what happens.”

At that, Mario straightened. “I’ve given you far more understanding than I normally allow. Threaten me again, insult me again, and you can see what happens.”

Sam narrowed his eyes, frustration simmering inside him. He wanted to slug the man for the insult to Tracy, for frightening her, but he kept his head. Mario wasn’t kidding. He had far more power than any criminal should, and Sam’s plan was to make this go away. Hitting the asshole would only make things worse. “She doesn’t have what you want, anyway.”

“She can get it. She will if she wants to keep breathing.”

The threat slipped his temper free. He lifted his lip in a snarl, his voice dropping an octave. “You’re going to want to stop threatening her.”

Mario leaned in closer, over the table. “You alphas think you are something special, something above everyone else. You aren’t. You are animals, driven by hormones and instincts, and you think you can do whatever you want, say whatever you want, and there will be no consequences. You think you are at the top of the food chain, but I assure you, you are not. Do not forget it.”

Before Sam could speak again, Mario waved forward the guards. One hauled Sam out of the booth, grip hard and sure.

Mario gave his parting shot with a bite in his voice. “Tell Tracy to hurry. I tend to grow impatient.”

The two guards hustled Sam from the restaurant, and no one looked up. If that didn’t tell him the sort of place the business was, nothing did. They all minded their own business, not willing to get involved or risk their own necks.

Fine by him. He didn’t like the idea of civilian casualties.

The bodyguards all but threw him into the alleyway, hard enough he caught himself on the opposite wall.

He fought the desire to turn and spit a snarky insult at them.

“One more thing,” one said.

Sam did turn, then. “Oh yeah? And what is that?”

“Mr. Navarro wanted to ensure you fully understood where you were on the food chain.”

Sam huffed a dark laugh at the stupid statement. “And how does he plan to do that?”

The answer came when one of the brutes nailed him in the jaw with a sucker punch, and one that was clearly not going to be the last.