17. Resa

Chapter 17

Resa

W hen Garrison told me about the party, I was relieved. The party gives me a chance to speak with Everleigh, to find out if she's okay, and ask her what she knows about Pack Lucas.

Rationally, I know they can get me in front of Dexter Pieter, probably faster than I can. But they're alphas.

And alphas… well, they leave a lot to be desired.

Lex knocked on my door as I pored over Jerome Walker's file to tell me about this important pack meeting.

I rushed down, eager to be a part of it. And I've been hesitating, knife in hand, outside the door Garrison held open for me an hour before since then.

"Want to break in?" a familiar amused voice drifts over my left shoulder.

The only reason I don't jump is the soft creak which announced Vaughn's presence.

"Is this one of the locked doors then?" I reach for the handle, but Vaughn beats me to it.

"Nope. Nothing confidential in here." He pushes the door open and holds it for me. "Just seemed like it might be fun."

Which is how I find myself sitting at the big conference table with two alphas and beta, finalizing the details for this party tonight.

Roman is at the party already, and Frost is doing a final inspection of the cars before we leave. Preparation is key, Garrison said when I looked at him strangely. We don't need to break down somewhere just because none of us thought to check our cars had enough gas.

Details matter more to him than they ever have to me. I've broken down so many times you'd think I'd know better. Yet here I am thinking, you know what, that's actually not a bad idea, like I've never broken down a day in my life.

Details should matter more. Like the mistake I made when I came downstairs without my knife. I won't make that mistake ever again.

"She needs a dress," Vaughn suddenly declares, scaring the shit out of me.

Not the volume of his declaration. It's what it means.

My fingers instinctively curl around the knife I have resting in my lap as I work out who I might need to stab on my way to the door.

I've heard this all before. Notably, before the auction in club Asylum.

I'm not going through that again.

"We don't have time to go shopping," Garrison says as I struggle to breathe.

I'm doing all the right things, air in through my nose and out of my mouth, but I'm breathless, so I must not be doing it right.

Now they are all looking at me, and I'm trying not to react to being the center of attention the way I'd be back at the Asylum auction.

I'm in a silk slip, trapped in a glass room. Alphas are bidding on me and a voice is yelling prices as I shrink away from their hungry attention, nails scrabbling for a way out, and ? —

"Resa?" Garrison's voice is like falling backward into a cold lake.

I look at him.

Breathing in through my mouth and out of my nose, I release the tight grip I have on the sweaty knife hilt. I strangle my panic as I compose myself under his quiet scrutiny. "What?"

"Did you have a particular style?" he asks.

" Style ?" I echo.

You have got to start paying more attention to your surroundings, Resa. What were you just saying about the importance of details?

He flips open the lid of the laptop in front of him and turns it to face me. "It's not safe to take you to a store, but if you want to look through this shop's website, we can send Lex to pick you up a dress. Maybe something simple like this, so the party's attendants know you're working and leave you alone."

This store happens to be a designer boutique. My parents weren't wealthy and seeing how many zeros at the end of such simple looking dresses is bringing me out in a sweat. Maybe even hives.

I keep forgetting they have money.

I look at those zeroes and I gulp. "That's a lot of money for a dress."

"We're good at what we do and the people who pay us know it," Garrison says.

He wants me to pick out a two thousand dollar dress that I'll wear for one night—less, actually—five or six hours and likely never wear again, and he's good with that?

"I don't think I need a dress so…" I gesture with my left hand since my right is busy sweating on a knife. Expensive? Designer? "I'll just be at the back so?—"

"The cost isn't important. Choose something you like and it's yours," Garrison interrupts.

So he's good with it. Totally fine with throwing money away on me for no good reason.

Vaughn swipes the laptop from Garrison and winces. "Yeesh, that's ugly. She's not wearing those maid outfits."

I frown. "I don't care what I wear."

A few taps, a nod of approval, and Vaughn swivels the monitor to face me. "This one."

If I thought two thousand dollar dresses was expensive, the dress Vaughn picks out, a beautiful confection of black lace, makes me relieved I'm sitting down.

A dress like that belongs on an omega who lives a dream life I would see on TV or in fashion magazines being wined and dined by handsome, wealthy alphas.

A dress like that, as beautiful as it is, does not belong on someone like me.

My smile is as brittle as I nudge the laptop away. "I appreciate the thought, but I don't need an expensive dress. If I'm going to be at the back, then I can just wear this. Maybe something black, to not attract any attention."

Garrison nods as he takes the laptop, closing it firmly on the most beautiful dress I've ever seen in my life. "Then Lex can pick up something black. Maybe jeans and a T-shirt?"

"That sounds fine. Thanks."

And I'll match with Blaine who is in black, a turtleneck of course, and has chosen the one chair in the room that means I can't see his right side.

"The price isn't important," Vaughn says. "If it's?—"

"It's not the price," I lie. "This is just a work event, right? And there's no point in spending thousands of dollars on something I would wear once and leave when I go home ."

For one long moment, no one responds. Maybe I put a little too much emphasis on home than I needed to, but it's important they know this stay is short, and expensive purchases would only be a waste of their money.

Garrison nods. "We can have Roman stay with you, so you won't?—"

"I'll stay with her," Blaine says quietly. "Roman or Frost can watch the front. That way you're not a man down inside."

Silence.

The tension in the room is so palpable it skitters across my skin like a tiny static shock.

No one looks at Blaine, but I think something new just happened. Something unexpected.

Garrison pushes himself to his feet and his towering presence takes over the space, making it hard to breathe.

He halts halfway and then returns to his seated position. All without looking at me. "We can talk through those changes while Resa gets ready. Lex !"

Lex pops his head in the door. He has a strawberry pop tart hanging out of his mouth. He pulls it out long enough to say, "Boss Man?"

"Resa needs clothes. Jeans, T-shirt, maybe a sweater in case it gets cold. And sneakers. The cushioned sole type. All black."

Lex's cell phone leaps into his hand and he's tapping furiously as he backs out of the room.

At no point does anyone ask what my size is.

To no surprise ever, everything fits, and my sneakers, with the cushioned sole, is like walking on a cloud.

After I've dressed, I walk down the stairs and I can't find anyone.

I hear drumming. It's faint but easy enough to track.

I follow the sound down the hallway, pushing open one half of a set of double doors and find Vaughn sitting at a drum kit, dressed all in black. Suit. Tie. Everything. He's tied his blond hair back from his face, and he's laser-focused on the wooden sticks he uses to drum.

He's good. Like really, really good.

Also, he looks good in all black.

They must have gutted this mansion. It's half gym with mats, treadmills, rowing machine, and a punching bag. Vaughn is sitting in what looks like a recording studio. The drum kit dominates the space, but on the back wall is a large computer with a leather gaming chair, expensive looking studio equipment, and a keyboard.

I'd have thought this mansion was big enough to have a room for each, but maybe they just like to hang out together.

I watch him drumming for long enough to be impressed. Then I turn to leave.

"Come back!" he calls out. "You want a turn?"

I eye the drum kit, tempted. "No, thanks."

"You don't know what you're missing." He flicks the sticks up in the air, catches both and offers them to me.

I shake my head. "You did that to show off, didn't you?" I ask, remembering what Frost said at breakfast.

"Maybe. Were you impressed?" He looks hopeful.

"No," I lie.

After giving the drums another beating, he rises, leaving the sticks on the seat. "Well, anytime you want to, the sticks are right here."

"Why did it seem like a big deal that Blaine would be at this party?" I ask as he walks toward me.

"Why would it be a big deal?"

So, we're back to annoyingly vague answers. "Is it because of his scars?"

He holds the door open for me, giving me an inscrutable look as we leave the gym/studio and head to the front of the house. Lex dropped off a designer bag filled with clothes for me and told me we'd all meet at the front door. "What about his scars?"

"He got angry at me when he thought I was staring. I assume other people have made it a big deal, so he avoids public places like parties."

A smile lifts the corners of his lips. "Has Garrison tried to hire you yet? ‘Cause he should. Sounds like you might have the instincts to be a good hire. Maybe the best."

"Don't be ridiculous," I snort.

My priority is finding Dexter Pieter. That's it. Then I return to my life. My world. My fiancé. Though maybe not to my old job as a real estate assistant.

They'd have filled my job already, and even if they hadn't, no way would they take me back. I was terrible at my job. They knew it, I knew it, but no one else would have worked for the pittance they paid me.

About the only thing I did right was make the coffee and get the photocopier working when no one else could. For that, they didn't fire me.

But to hear I might be good at this thing?

Vaughn is just saying it to be nice. He doesn't actually mean it.

We get to the entryway, and we're the last ones to arrive.

Garrison is quietly talking with Frost. Blaine has both hands stuffed in his pockets, head lowered. His body language makes it clear—at least to me—that he might be second-guessing his decision to come.

We're all in black.

All I'll be doing at this party is parking myself out of the way, at the back with Blaine, after I speak with Everleigh. It's not like I'll actually be working. But I take a second to absorb what it might be like if I did work for Lucas Security, and it feels exciting.

The front of the mansion is quiet, the landscaping immaculate, and at the bottom of the driveway is a black gate with a buzzer to keep people out. A place like this should be safe.

Yet the second we step out the front door, Garrison, Frost, and Blaine move in front, forming a wedge around me as Vaughn remains at my side, his eyes sweeping the garden.

"Is it dangerous?" I hesitate in the doorway.

Garrison peers over his shoulder at me. "It's our job to prepare for the unexpected. You're safe."

I remembered to tuck my knife in the waistband of my jeans. I thought about all the things I want to say to Everleigh, and I even considered how safe it might be to step outside this mansion, knowing I killed Nathaniel's son and O'Brien is out there hunting me.

It's only when we're approaching a gunmetal gray Hummer with tinted windows that looks like it would go toe-to-toe with a tank and survive intact that I realize there's something I didn't consider.

The fact I'd be sharing a car with two alphas.

Now I'm the one second-guessing my decision to come.

I'm thinking up the ways I can back out without it looking like I'm afraid when Vaughn bumps my shoulder with his. "You're in the back with me, bloodthirsty omega."

No one could know or even understand how those few words just unwound the extreme levels of my tension.

Garrison slips into the front seat, Blaine into the passenger seat, and Frost strides over to a black Audi with tinted windows.

Suddenly, I'm not coming up with ways to get out of this party. I'm climbing into the backseat with Vaughn because he's a beta, and betas will always be safe.

"If there's not enough room, I wouldn't mind if you wanted to sit in my lap." Vaughn winks.

All betas are safe except this one. This beta is decidedly not safe.

But only for my hormones.