Chapter Four

Dylan doubted Sam had changed a bit in five years. He looked the same smug asshole he’d been before, even busted up as he was. Too handsome, too charming and too damned aware of both things.

A quick excuse to the female sent her rushing off, the timid thing at least good at playing innocent.

Then again, omegas always were.

And he knew she was an omega. It was easy to tell with how Sam looked at her, and he’d always fallen for omegas.

The moment the door shut, once the omega had left the room, Sam’s easy-going smile stripped from his features. “What are you doing here?” He asked the question of both Dylan and Mason, as if the two alphas had intruded.

Like fuck, Dylan hadn’t asked to get a call at three in the morning. Sam didn’t get to act pissy over this. If anyone got to have a temper tantrum, is was Dylan.

“The hospital called. It seems you haven’t updated your emergency contacts in a while,” Mason said.

“So you should have ignored the call.”

Mason’s laugh held no real humor, but no malice either. Then again, Mason had never given into their feud with his heart. He’d walked out because the other two had, but he’d never held on to the hurt or anger. That wasn’t Mason’s way. “You should have known better than to think that. We owe too many favors to ignore each other. Doesn’t matter how much bad blood there is, we don’t ignore calls for help.”

“This isn’t a call for help. It was a mistake.”

Dylan made an ugly sound at the bullshit. A mistake? Lots of things were mistakes, like the shit Sam had pulled, but this? This was just karma, really. It was fate reminding him that at the end of the day, he was never going to quite escape the other two alphas or their past.

“Mason has an annoying streak of nobility. What are you doing here?” Sam held the arm in a cast tight against his side, and the bruises on his face stole away some of those boyish good looks he had.

Maybe Sam’s words should have bothered him. Sam had basically called him someone without scruples. Too bad for him I don’t care what he thinks.

Dylan crossed his arms. “I don’t really care what you do, but your mom would castrate me if I let anything happen to you. I saw what she did to that stray dog she took in.”

Sam narrowed his eyes, his gaze hard. “Well, as you can tell, I’m not going to die any time soon. Sorry to have wasted your time.” He paused, then shook his head. “Actually, I’m not.”

Dylan couldn’t help the dark chuckle at the barb, didn’t bother to hide it. Better Sam know he was amused by the little show than think he could get under Dylan’s skin.

No one got under Dylan’s skin.

Mason, forever the one in the middle of them, tried like always to fix things. “So, that your mate?” Mason nodded toward the door.

The skittish little omega, too thin for Dylan’s taste and with a mass of wild red hair, stuck in his head. Because she’s dangerous. They all are, just females who twist alphas up, who take what they want and leave husks behind.

He’d seen it enough times.

“She’s not up for discussion,” was Sam’s reply, and no bigger verbal ‘do not cross line’ could be made.

And Dylan tramped right on through it because that was what he did. “Really? Because I got to wonder what she’s hiding under that baggy sweater.”

Sam’s snarl was hard and fast, low and dangerous in the small room. Fuck, it was fun riling him. Too bad Sam was too hurt to do more than snarl.

“Knock it off, Dylan,” Mason snapped, tone exhausted as though he’d been herding kittens all day and was sick of their shit. “Sam, stop snarling for fuck’s sake. You know he’s just needling you. And before you start trying to kick us out again, it seems you not only didn’t tell the hospital we didn’t talk anymore, but you didn’t tell your buddies at the station, either. As soon as I showed up, they sure did spill everything. About Tracy, about the attack on the omega group home, about the attack on you.”

Sam’s gaze fell to the window. “So? None of that is your problem.”

“Well, we’re here, aren’t we? Those calls we got and the plane rides we took made it our problem. I don’t know what exactly you and that female have gotten yourselves into, but judging from the way she flinches and the number someone did on you, I’d say whatever it is seems way more than you can handle.”

“We’re fine.”

Dylan’s laugh was mocking as he jammed a finger into the rib Sam was favoring, to be rewarded with a gasp from the other alpha. “Yeah, real fine. You telling me you think you can protect that girl? Because from where I’m looking, you can barely stand.”

After Sam drew in a few deep breaths, pain washing over his features, he lifted his gaze to them again. “So? What are you suggesting?”

Mason answered fast enough to keep Dylan quiet. “We’re already here, so let us help with whatever this is. I’m pretty afraid of your mom, too, and I don’t want to explain to her why you ended up six feet under.”

“And you, Dylan? You’re wanting to help out of the goodness of your heart?”

Dylan let a full laugh out, then, one he hoped showed Sam just how stupid that idea was. Dylan did nothing out of the goodness of his heart, and he sure as hell wouldn’t for Sam, not anymore. “Not a chance.”

“Then why help? Why risk yourself?”

Dylan smiled, a flash of teeth that lacked any warmth. “I saw that omega, the one who has you all tied up in knots. I can’t wait to see her break you into little tiny shards, and I want a front row seat to it. Besides, maybe I’ll get some payback, and you’ll see how it feels when your best friend fucks the woman you love.”

* * * *

Mason laughed softly as he stood before Sam’s house. That alpha never changes, does he? It had been five years since their big falling out, and yet the house looked the same. Same stone walkway, same glass windchime making prism designs below the front window. It was as if no time had passed at all, and Sam had kept everything the same.

Then again, Sam had never cared for change. He’d always been the one to cling to the familiar, to want things to just stop moving.

Dylan’s car pulled beside his, and the other man was out of it so fast Mason felt like lecturing him about it. Not that lecturing Dylan had ever worked. He was as stubborn as a feral cat and about as friendly.

He’d never have called himself good-looking, but Dylan was. He had those dark features that, coupled with his constant brooding, made him the sort of asshole women loved to try to change. He wasn’t as large as Sam or Mason, his body thinner, his muscles lean and cut. Still, between the slight facial hair across his jawline and the permanent ‘fuck you’ expression that never left his face, Dylan never failed to make people look twice.

Just not always for a good reason.

Who’d have figured we’d be here again?

Mason slung a bag from his trunk over his shoulder. He hadn’t figured so much as hoped. The fight between the three had never sat right. In the end, despite him not having a problem with either of the other men, he’d been forced out of their family as well. If he’d stayed in contract with either, mended bridges with either, it would have been impossible to get the two other alphas together again. They’d have seen his involvement as picking a side.

So, Mason had waited. He’d kept on with his life and pretended there hadn’t been a huge chunk missing without the brothers he’d found.

“You aren’t really going to try and sleep with that female,” Mason said, knowing exactly what Dylan was thinking.

Dylan slid an almost identical bag over his own shoulder. “Are you telling me you don’t think Sam deserves it?”

“I don’t think the omega deserves it.”

Dylan’s dark gaze narrowed, that temper of his slipping. “You and Sam always think the best of omegas, like they’re innocent. They aren’t, you know. They act innocent so someone will take care of them.”

“They’re not all like Nora was, like your mom was.”

Dylan skimmed over the comment, even as tension threaded through his body at the mention of the omega who had torn them apart, at his mother who had screwed him over. “And Sam’s no better. Sure, she might have used her skills to seduce him, but he went along with it.”

“So did I.”

“No, you accepted it as the only choice, that’s not the same. I wouldn’t have walked in on her in your bed.”

Mason carded his fingers through his hair and pushed the long mess from his face. What’s the point? Five years and this hasn’t gotten better. I won’t fix it in a ten-minute pep talk.

The bigger issue than Sam and Dylan, because they’d been doing this for years, was Tracy. Sam had given them a run-down, both of her past and the current issue. It made him understand how she’d acted when he’d seen her at the vending machine.

An omega with a past like that wasn’t going to be welcoming to two new alphas moving into her house, especially with her young.

It didn’t change that it was still the only choice. Sam was in no condition to keep her safe, and the way he stared at her made it clear he’d started to bond with her. Losing her would be a pain none of them wanted him to experience.

Dylan had thought he’d loved Nora, had thought they were bonding, but he just hadn’t known better. Mason was sure of it, knew Dylan had been more worried about her being his than about her, which was a pretty good sign. All this anger over an omega he didn’t even really love?

Tracy would have to adjust to having them around, for her own good.

And there was a part of Mason—a not insignificant part—that held hope. He’d always known what he wanted, and years of chasing omegas on his own had only proven it was what he needed. It was why he’d tried to make a relationship work with Nora, despite his own feelings, because he’d wanted the family. It hadn’t worked with her, but then again, none of them had loved her, and she hadn’t loved them.

Could Tracy be different? Could she be the perfect fit for all three alphas?

And if she was, if they could even get her to give them a chance, would she just break their hearts?

* * * *

Tracy had hardly acknowledged the two new alphas in the house. Even when the one she’d met, Mason, had smiled, she’d just hidden behind Sam like a coward.

Which was funny, since Sam was hardly able to do anything to keep her safe.

Still, she’d wanted nothing to do with either man. Mason was larger than any man should have been, standing taller than Sam or Dylan, and far wider. He didn’t scowl, having a similar jovial attitude to Sam, only with more cursing. If she wasn’t so afraid, she might have dared to call him handsome, in an untamed, primal sort of way.

Dylan, however, was not at all the same. He seemed all hard lines and harshness. He’d scowled, lip pulled up in an almost constant snarl that made him appear large despite being smaller than both other alphas. He reminded her of a Doberman, all sleek lines that perhaps didn’t carry the bulk of a Rottweiler but was just as lethal.

“Talk to me.” Sam sat on the closed toilet lid in his bathroom, Tracy having been sorting his medications and putting them away.

She didn’t respond quickly. She liked to think about things before she spoke, to weigh the words. All words had a cost, or so she’d learned, and she didn’t like saying anything without being willing to pay the price. Sam had told her about the two alphas, had explained he knew them well, that they’d help keep her safe, but she’d said nothing back.

I’m so tired of being afraid all the time.

“I don’t like new alphas,” she admitted, voice soft.

“I know, and if there was another way, I’d go with it.”

“You don’t seem to like them, so how can you trust them?”

Sam fidgeted, though the movement had him wincing when it jostled his cracked rib. “I trust them with your safety. How’s that?”

“Vague.”

He smiled, a glimpse of who he was beneath the bruises and broken skin that marred his handsome features. “I admit, we didn’t end on a good note. There was a fight, and none of us are willing to get over it. The thing is, even with that, it doesn’t change that I trust them. They’re more than friends, more than blood. We grew up together, and there’s no one I trust more. They won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that before. It’s been my experience that you can’t trust people.”

“Do you trust me?”

I want to. The thought surprised her. She’d never trusted anyone, not really. She did what they said because it was safer, but she’d never trusted them. She might not trust Sam yet, but the fact she wanted to was new.

When she didn’t answer his question, he continued, “We’ll get there. What if I tell you about them? Will that help?”

“Maybe.”

Sam patted the side of the bathtub, and Tracy sat there when she’d finished putting the pills away.

“Mason is the one with long hair.”

That brought forward his face, the wild look to him achieved by that hair, by the beard, by the fact he was the largest of all three by quite a margin. Even so, he held an oddly gentle nature, like a huge beast happy to curl up at someone’s feet. Not that you can trust that. Even gentle alphas are alphas at the end of the day.

“He owns a construction company out in Arizona doing commercial remodels. No mate, no children. He’s straightforward, says what he thinks, doesn’t sugar-coat much, but he’s easy-going. Dylan is the quiet one. He works as a private investigator, usually on custody or divorce cases. He tails people, does surveillance, that sort of thing.”

Dylan hadn’t spoken to her, hadn’t even tried. If anything, he’d only gotten more tense and angry-looking each time he’d spotted her, giving a look just this side of glowering.

“He doesn’t seem nice.”

“He’s not.” Sam straightened, as if he’d realized how bad his words sounded. “I mean, he’s safe for you, but he isn’t friendly. Don’t expect him to want to be buddies, but he’d never hurt you. You’re as safe with him as you’d be with Mason or me. Just don’t try to make small talk with him, because you’ll never win him over.”

Tracy sighed and leaned forward. How did things always end up complicated for her? She’d been happy at the group home. She’d been happy at Sam’s before. Every time she found happiness, the world was determined to tear it from her.

Sam set his hand on top of hers and offered a gentle squeeze, the touch already easier to accept. “You should lie down. You were up all night. When will Karen get here?”

“Tomorrow morning. Claire thought it would be best if she stayed the night there again, got a full night’s sleep.”

“Makes sense. No reason to uproot her early, plus I’m sure she’s having a great time. If I know Joshua, he’s spoiled her with every type of ice cream and candy possible.” He shifted again, as though he couldn’t get comfortable. Then again, between his rib, the bruises on his face, and his arm, how could he be comfortable? Still, in typical alpha fashion, he tried to hide it. “I hope they have a kid, soon. They need one, and I know they’ve all been waiting too long.”

Tracy nodded as she thought about a child in that household. Each time she went there with Karen, the girl would get spoiled rotten by not only her ‘Auntie Claire’ but each of her uncles, too. And she ate it up, milking every last thing out of the alphas she could. Even Bryce, the strict one who didn’t smile much, still snuck her treats and let her get up late to watch TV long after she was supposed to be asleep. Yes, Tracy wanted them to find that sort of happiness, and yet, a part of her was jealous.

Jealous that she’d had the child but none of the rest. She loved Karen without end, but she that didn’t stop her from wishing she was the omega with a loving mate, that Karen had a father who would dote on her the way each of those alphas would their child.

But she wasn’t Claire, was she? Claire had picked herself up after her abusive past, had forged a new life for herself. Tracy had hidden away in a group home and let the world pass her by. She hadn’t even dealt with the legal or financial issues after Richard’s death. Instead, she’d hired a lawyer and just tried to put everything on hold.

As if she’d ever figure it out. As though she’d ever be one of those strong women who could deal with things on their own, who didn’t need to hide behind someone else.

A touch to her cheek had her jerking back so quickly she nearly toppled into the tub.

Sam sighed but pulled back. The look on his face said he’d been talking to her, but she’d missed it. “Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to startle you. You should get some sleep.”

Tracy stood and ignored her still racing heart. “Come on, I’ll get you settled, first. You need rest, too.”

It took nearly forty-five minutes to get Sam into bed. He took another dose of painkillers and rested in the sweats and shirt he’d gotten from the hospital. They were loose enough to not highlight much of his body.

That helped. As terrible as it might make her, Tracy preferred dealing with Sam like this, when he was hurt and not nearly so handsome. When he woke those uncomfortable desires inside her, when she had to face them, it complicated matters. This was easier.

The scents of alphas filled the house. Sam’s was strongest, familiar and less threatening. Each hour that passed, however, the other two’s scents occupied more and more territory.

After three hours in bed, sleep wouldn’t come. Even as exhaustion tugged at her, she couldn’t settle. Instead, she ventured from the safety of her room, needing to see the sky, to not feel walls closing in around her.

No one moved in the house, no sound or signs of life. Sam was far gone in a drugged sleep, no doubt, and the other two alphas must be sleeping as well.

The large deck outside, the one that overlooked a rolling hill, putting them up high, had fascinated Tracy the first time she’d seen it.

In fact, the entire house amazed her. It was huge yet modest. It had a bunch of rooms and bathrooms, as though made for a huge family, but the fixtures and decor weren’t over the top or fancy. Instead, it was painted in warm beige tones, with an almost cabin appeal. It fit with Sam. He’d never live somewhere fancy, somewhere with stainless steel finishes where he’d have to worry about fingerprints. No, Sam was the sort to choose ease and comfort over anything else.

And Tracy had clung to that style. It had made the large home safe and cozy despite the size.

But that view from the back deck, the way the sky stretched to the mountains that surrounded the house, the way the bright stars stood out against the endless dark sky filled her with a strange sense of freedom. She breathed in, filling her lungs with the crisp air.

“You’re up late.”

Tracy spun at the voice, finding Mason behind her, no shirt, and larger in the darkness than he had been in the light.

All those old fears crashed over her. She didn’t have a hospital of people around, she didn’t have Sam—she had nothing. It was her and an alpha she didn’t know in the dark, alone.

Why did I leave my room? What was I this stupid?

The air thinned until despite how quickly she gasped, nothing helped.

A creaking drew her attention, and she expected to find Mason looming, to find him just in front of her, reaching for her.

Instead, he had taken a seat on the couch positioned in a U-shape. It made him look smaller, and she got the point he was making.

I’m not going to do anything.

It gave Tracy the chanced to lean against the railing, sliding down until her ass hit the ground. Even still, she didn’t close her eyes, didn’t take her gaze from the alpha who watched her with unnerving silence.

After another minute—or maybe ten, she really couldn’t tell—Tracy shuddered out the last of her energy.

Mason must have noticed, because he spoke up. “I’m going to get Sam.”

“No.” Tracy almost shouted. She didn’t ever speak without thinking, yet she’d nearly snapped the denial. A slow inhalation and she spoke more carefully. “He needs sleep to get better.”

“You think he wouldn’t happily get up for you?”

Of course, he would. Tracy didn’t even need to question that. Sam would wake without a complaint if he thought she needed him.

That wasn’t the point, though. The fact that he would didn’t mean he should.

“He needs to sleep. I’m fine.”

Mason didn’t move, not a muscle twitching as he stared at her. “I should have realized sneaking up on you was a bad idea. Just ain’t used to other people being up late.”

She didn’t respond, focusing all her energy on calming her racing heart.

Her lack of response didn’t silence the alpha. “Sam sleeps like the dead even without the party-sized amount of opioids in him. Dylan isn’t a deep sleeper, but he gets up early, so he’s pretty religious about his bedtime. Me, though? I’m always the one who can’t sleep.”

The conversation distracted Tracy, the fondness with which Mason talked about the other two. Sam hadn’t spoken like that—his words had been clipped and full of tension. Whatever fallout had happened between them all, Mason must have gotten over it.

A smile tugged at Mason’s features, softening his expression in the darkness. “You normally not a great sleeper, or is this just my lucky night?”

The fact Mason hadn’t pushed his luck, hadn’t come closer let Tracy risk stepping into the conversation. “I don’t sleep well,” she admitted.

“Anything I can do to help?”

“No. I just can’t help it. I always wake up at every sound, need to check them. I’ve been like this a long time.”

“Hypervigilance.”

“What?”

“It’s called hypervigilance when a person is always on guard for danger after a traumatic event. They tend to check locks, have to know what time it is, have to know where everyone around them is.” He spoke like it was just information, but the words chafed.

It wasn’t just information—it was her life. It was the scars she carried that she didn’t like people to see. She’d rather he think her some girl who didn’t sleep well, not a broken thing after an unnamed traumatic experience.

She rose, anger replacing her nerves for a split second. “It was nice talking to you,” she said, her old self, the one afraid to upset an alpha, the one she hated, speaking before she could stop it.

Mason didn’t stand, but his gaze still followed her, that focus of his unnerving. “No, it wasn’t. You don’t have to lie to protect my feelings. I didn’t mean to pry, but I have a habit of saying whatever’s in my head. Sorry for upsetting you. Last thing I want is for my fellow night-owl to ignore me.”

His apology came with no sense of deceit. He seemed honestly sorry for upsetting her, and in that, she had to admit, it wasn’t entirely fair to be angry.

Or maybe that was the part of her still afraid.

Part of me? It’s all of me. Just a coward.

Exhausted by the day, by her fear and her constant put-downs and her entire life, Tracy wrapped her arms around herself and let her thin shoulders drop. “I appreciate that you’re here to help Sam and I, but whatever you’re doing right now? It’s not worth the effort. If you think you want me as a friend, I can assure you, you don’t. If you’re hoping for more, it won’t happen. I’m not”—she gulped softly—“normal. Don’t waste your time trying to make some friendship between us. Think of me like a cat who doesn’t come out from beneath the bed when you come over. It’s not going to change.” As she spoke, her voice dropped to a whisper. She forced the words out, risked his wrath. Sam had assured her he was safe, but with Sam asleep, with the darkness looming, with Mason’s body so large and male, she struggled to believe anything.

Mason made a soft sound in the back of his throat, one that said he didn’t believe a word she said. She kept walking away, and his voice followed as she reached the door. “You might be surprised—felines tend to like me. Goodnight, kitten.”