Page 53 of The Rust in Her Hair

"Okay." Something in my chest eases. "Then what's all this about, if you already know she's staying?"

"Because letting her stay could blow up in our faces." He leans back against the bench and finally looks tired instead of wound up. "All of us. Our jobs, this house, Owen's whole life at that library. If her dad finds her and chooses to press charges, he could basically destroy our lives." He rubs the back of his neck. "She is staying," he says firmly. "But this is a serious situation." His dark eyes meet mine. "I don't want you to be blindsided later."

Well, shit.

"Okay." I stand and pull him into me, chest to chest, my hand at the back of his head the way he did to me a minute ago. "Then we'll figure it out together," I tell him, praying it’s the right thing to say.

Nico wraps me up in a hug and squeezes hard, one arm banding across my back. He thumps me between the shoulder blades twice before he lets go.

"Thank you," he says low, and I can tell he means it. "I needed to say all that out loud to somebody who wasn't going to freak out hearing it."

"That's me," I say with an exaggerated grin. "Emotionally bulletproof." I roll my shoulder where he pounded on it. "Or too dumb to panic." I smile wide, waiting for the joke to land.

Nico lets out a courtesy snort, shaking his head.

I'll take it.

But then I think about Owen. I hope he’s okay. I've got no way of knowing on my own.

Nico's got a strong bond running straight into the beta’s chest. He feels every dip and spike of Owen from across the house. Me? I've got nothing like that. Even though Owen and I are mated, our mental bond never took.

It doesn't keep me up nights, I love the beta plenty without a wire in my skull telling me to, but it does mean that when it comes to what's going on inside Owen, I'm flying blind. And I’m not too proud to ask the guy with the map.

"How's Owen doing?" I ask.

Nico goes quiet a second, and I watch him check their bond, brow furrowed.

"He’s wrecked," he says finally. "He feels so guilty."

"For what?" I blurt out.

Nico shakes his head. "The beta’s got it in his head that he should have insisted she go to the hospital. He thinks that if anything bad happens to her, it’s his fault." His eyes narrow as he looks past my shoulder. "He’s somewhat calm right now. I think he might be with Adrian."

"He did the right thing,” I say firmly, suddenly feeling very tense.

"I agree," Nico looks up at me, deep worry in his eyes. "I hope it doesn't all go to shit."

Working It Out

Nico

Mack pulls his shirt off the weight bench and slings it over one shoulder. I follow him out of the gym into the stairwell.

The stairs are one of the few things in this whole house I built. They’re solid with no give or creak. Made with treated pine that'll outlast me. They drop us down out of the stuffy heat of the gym into the garage, and the air changes on the way, cooler but still warm, thick with the smell of sawdust, motor oil, and cut cedar.

We've never once parked a car in here.

Eight years in this house and the garage has been a workshop since day one. My table saw sits in the middle of it under a skin of fine dust. There’s a half-built bookcase leaning against the far wall, waiting on the shelves I keep meaning to cut. Adrian's busted dresser is still torn down to its frame on the bench where he left it a month ago. Somewhere in here is a lawnmower that runs if you ask it nicely. We keep swearing we'll clean it out, but we never do.

Mack moves ahead of me, weaving quickly between the sawhorses. I trail a few steps behind him and take my time admiring the view.

The alpha has a broad back, the long muscles along his spine shifting with each step. He’s gorgeous with his shaggy blond hair, sweet southern charm, and that ass…

The thin gray fabric of his gym shorts stretches tight over two high, round globes of muscle, a perfect bubble butt that bounces with every confident step he takes. The seam bites right up the middle, leaving nothing to the imagination, and I have to bite back a low whistle.

Mack shoulders open the door at the back of the garage, stepping into the kitchen. Warm yellow light spills out over him, followed by a gust of cool air.

"You comin'?" he says. "Or you just gonna stand there enjoying the show?" He doesn't turn around, but I can hear the grin in his voice.