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Sawyer’s flushed face, the confusion in his wide eyes. The way he’d kept slamming the wall and counting, the way he’d trembled.
And Brinlee dancing for rich patrons.
Don’t know why I’m so damn worried.
So damn fucking concerned.
And what my men can do about it.
Archer chuckles, startling me. “Yeah, I was shitting you. Of course, we need to talk about them. I didn’t want to push you.”
“Push me? What the fuck, Arch.”
He pushes off the desk, frowning again. “What did I say? Yeah, not to push you. I know you don’t want more people in the pack. You don’t want an omega. And Sawyer is one. Brinlee perhaps, too.”
I reel so fucking bad I crash into Roman. He grabs me, and I shove him away. “The fuck,” I say again, my calm gone. “This is about me?”
“Of course it’s about you.” Archer is now standing in front of me, one hand raised as if to touch me but thinking better of it, after seeing me push Roman away. “What did you think?”
“I thought… “
“You thought?” he prompts.
“Shut up, I…” My head is pounding. “Did I really say out loud I don’t want an omega? Or more people in the pack?”
“Yeah, you did. A couple of times.”
“Fuck,” I breathe.
“Why, what changed?” Roman is standing at a safe distance from me, and guilt swamps me. “Ky?”
“Sorry I shoved you,” I mutter.
“It’s okay, big man. You’ll make up for it later.” His eyes flash with dark promises. “Now, what is this all about? You are our alpha. You both are my alphas. We are a pack, a family. We have no secrets. Ky, talk.”
I thought you wanted to kick me out. Because I can’t read. Because I’m a barbarian. Just call me Conan and be done with it.
But I don’t say any of that shit. They don’t know any of it.
“I thought you were inviting Brinlee and Sawyer to join us without discussing it first,” I mutter.
“We’d never do that,” Roman says. “Are you nuts?”
I shake my head. “Do you want them in?”
“Listen, Ky. We like them. They’re nice. They’re sexy. We have chemistry. But you, man, you’re ours. You were ours first. Nobody gets added without your agreement, get it?”
“I get to sign off on any new member?” I ask.
“Damn right you do.”
“Okay, let me think about it,” I say, because this is too fucking much, and my chest feels too tight, my throat too dry, my eyes too damn hot. I need to change the topic. “What about Brinlee? Did you really mean for us to keep going to that club? Is that how we’ll help her? Are you willing to support her indefinitely?”
“As a patron? No. But there are other ways to help her. We need to get her out of there, and fast.”
“You did something, didn’t you? I recognize that gleam in your eye. What did you do?”
“I gave her a way out,” Archer says.
