4. Aria

4

ARIA

"Quinn, right?" I say, steadying my voice as I finally free the orange Creamsicle candy from its wrapper. If my nerves put me on edge and I get a little smelly, I can totally blame it on the candy. Hopefully. Maybe.

"That's me," he says, his eyes on the road. "The one and only."

"I'm not a fan of bars," I say carefully as the candy finally pops out of the wrapper and lands in my lap. "In fact, I hate them." Luckily for me, my voice only wobbles just a little.

"No worries. Stay in the car, all right?" His warm eyes look in the rearview mirror, focusing on me. Naturally, I look away. One of us has to have eyes on the road at all times—preferably the driver. Damn, I need to get my car fixed.

"Right," I drawl as he turns the corner onto a busy street known for its nightclubs and sins. The air thickens with the smell of alcohol and sweat, mingling with the distant sound of pulsing bass and laughter. Honestly, I never plan to ever enter a bar again for the rest of my life. I'll sit right here in this car and hope Quinn survives, because Cayenne might kill him and I want to watch.

He whistles when we see the line wrapped around the building, and just as we pull up, the door flings open. One bouncer barely gets out of the way of another before a man casually strolls outside, right into someone's fist. I'd bet my last good pair of panties that is Quinn's brother.

"Shit," Quinn mutters and stops the car in the middle of the road. "Aria." He turns around, and now I can see his face. It's distorted by the flashing lights, but it's enough for me to get a good idea of what he looks like. He has a baby beard, as though he's trying like hell to grow his beard and it just won't grow. "I'm going to get out of this vehicle and grab my brother, okay?" He holds my gaze.

I clear my throat and look away. He isn't intense. Nope, far from it. He's…comforting. That's worse.

"Yep," I answer as I watch the man lying in the street try to get up and fall right back down. "He's going to hurt himself." I sigh. "Let me help."

Why do I open my mouth? Honestly, who the fuck is even in charge of this bitch?

Quinn gives me a crooked smile. Swoon. "I think I can handle a drunk alpha." He winks and gets out of the car far too fast for me to register his words.

He said alpha, didn't he?

I turn my phone back on. It rings once before Cayenne picks up.

"If you ever?—"

I cut Cayenne off. "Pit stop. Looks like Dash Clarke got too drunk and picked a fight with someone." I suck on my bottom lip. "He's an alpha."

"I'm getting you another ride." Her fingers clack in the background.

"I'm okay, Cayenne. These guys don't feel dangerous. My gut says they are safe." I smile at her concern. Ever since she found me half dead, she's been like the overprotective big sister I never had. I lean forward and giggle as I watch Quinn try to lift his brother. "I'm definitely amused. Oh, oh, here comes the bouncer."

"I'm in," she whispers to herself. "For the record, you have terrible intuition, and I don't know Dash, but… Ah, here we are. Dash Clarke. Twenty-six. Hmm, that's strange."

"What is?" I ask distractedly as Quinn tries to lift Dash again, only for the larger man to toss himself on the ground and… "I think he's throwing a mantrum."

"Typical alpha behavior—throwing a tantrum when they don't get what they want," she murmurs.

"Aww, don't be a beta," I tease.

"Listen, leave my beta designation out of this. We can't all be God's favorite," she murmurs. "What does negotiator mean to you?"

"Negotiator? Oh!"

Quinn gives up and lifts him fireman style, then he turns to the bouncers and angrily mutters something while Dash pounds on his back. "This is wild."

"That's why you want to stay? Because you're amused?" Cayenne harrumphs. "I told you to get out of the house more often."

"Well…" That's all I say. We both know why I don't leave the house. "Here he comes."

"I'm hacking his smart vehicle," Cayenne murmurs a moment before the line dies and her face pops up on Quinn's car screen. "Hey, gorgeous."

"You terrify me."

"I'll never buy a new car, and this is why." She tsks. "Nor will you."

I hold my hands up. "Noted."

Luckily, Quinn doesn't open the backdoor, but he does open the hatch. I spin around just as he tosses a man into the back, who grunts.

"Did he just hit his head?" I exclaim as I hear a thud.

"Yes." Quinn gives me an evil little smirk. Honestly, it's absolutely unhinged and attractive as fuck.

The man groans, and Quinn shuts the hatch on his feet. I wince. He grins even more as Dash curls in on himself. Luckily, the pungent scent of liquor masks any kind of alpha smell.

"How much did he drink?" I want to poke him because he looks dead.

Quinn gets in the driver's seat without answering me and takes a moment to breathe while I push myself against the door so I can keep an eye on both of them.

"I think he's dead," I tell Quinn.

His laughter is not what I expect as he puts on his seat belt. "Aria, this is my drunk brother, Dash. I'd tell him to say hi, but I'm pretty sure he just drank himself into a coma."

"I don't think he's breathing." Why the fuck do I even care? You drink, then you deal with the consequences. Oh, hell.

"He's breathing, I assure you." Quinn doesn't sound happy about that.

As he pulls away, my eyes remain on his stomach. "No, he really isn't breathing." My hand lands on my belt buckle.

"He's alive."

"How can you be so sure?"

Quinn stops at the next light and looks me in the eye. "Because, sweet girl, I can feel his life force through our bond."

My mouth rounds, and I nod. "So bond brothers," I state just for clarification. "Green light."

He doesn't turn around, not right away, but eventually, he does. "Bonded brothers."

"Oh, a pack , pack?" My jaw drops as I look back and forth between them.

"Quinn," Cayenne interrupts, and I squeal, having forgotten she was on the screen. "Take her directly home. Also, you paid her two hundred for the delay." The screen goes black.

"She terrifies me," Quinn mutters.

"I still think it's funny she thought you were a girl." Cayenne never makes mistakes, and I plan to hold it over her head for the rest of her life.

"It's the name," he mutters. "It's also why I cut all my hair off. But yes, we are a pack."

I roll that around in my head, curiosity piqued. First of all, I now want to see what he looked like with long hair. But more importantly, I've never met a pack before. I've been hiding for what feels like an eternity, even if it's only been six months. This whole designation thing is still pretty new to me, and packs are even rarer in my limited experience.

A mix of excitement and trepidation washes over me. Packs are supposed to be tight-knit, fiercely loyal. Part of me yearns for that kind of belonging, but another part recoils at the thought of allowing myself to be vulnerable again. I push the conflicting feelings aside, reminding myself that it doesn't matter. I'm just passing though their lives, after all.

"Can you tell—" My stomach interrupts with the world's longest growl. Just when I think it's going to stop, it keeps going. "Yeah, that was me." I glare at my belly while frowning.

"When did you eat last?" Quinn asks.

"That is a great question." I rub my stomach. "No idea."

"There is a taco place ahead. I'm going to grab you a few. Any preferences?" Quinn asks.

"Oh, you don't have to do that."

"Yes, he does." The deep voice startles me so much, I squeal and damn near jump out of my skin.

"He's alive." I press a hand to my heart that is beating far too fast.

Dash groans, slowly pushing himself up. He blinks rapidly, as if trying to clear his vision. "Ugh, my head," he mumbles, then focuses on me. His eyes widen slightly, and he seems to make an effort to pull himself together. Dash rests his head on his palm and blinks lazily at me. "Well, hello there, beautiful," he slurs, a devilish grin spreading across his face. "You must be the entertainment."

"Excuse me?" I raise an eyebrow, feeling heat rise to my cheeks. I'm wearing jeans and a stained shirt. I don't look like that kind of working girl.

"Dash, behave," Quinn warns, but there's amusement in his voice.

Dash's grin widens. "I'm Dash. And you are?"

"Aria," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. "Not that it's any of your damn business."

"Feisty. I like it." He winks, and despite myself, I feel a flutter in my chest.

"Don't let him get to you," Quinn says over his shoulder. "He's just trying to get a rise out of you."

"Mission accomplished," I mutter under my breath, but Dash hears and laughs.

"You're cute when you're annoyed," Dash says, leaning forward as much as the cramped space allows. "Maybe you should join us at home for those tacos. I promise I'm not always this charming."

"I think I'll pass," I say, but I can't help the small smile that tugs at my lips.

"Your loss," Dash replies, settling back with a mock pout. "But if you change your mind, I'm an excellent taco companion."

Quinn rolls his eyes. "Ignore him. He'll be asleep in ten minutes."

"Oh, I doubt that," Dash says, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "I have a feeling tonight is just getting started."

I glance at Quinn, who looks both exasperated and amused. "Is he always like this?"

"Only when he's drunk," Quinn replies. "And unfortunately, that's more often than I'd like."

"I heard that," Dash says, his grin never faltering, "and you love me anyway."

Quinn sighs. "Much to my dismay."

I can't help but laugh, the tension from earlier melting away. "Well, at least it won't be a boring night."

Dash's eyes meet mine, and for a moment, the playful mask slips, revealing something deeper. "Stick around, Aria. I promise it never is with us."

Quinn interrupts with a cough, pulling the car into the taco place's drive-through lane. "All right, taco orders. Aria, what do you want?"

"I don't know—" I start, but Dash cuts me off.

"She'll have three carne asada tacos with extra guacamole," he says confidently.

"Is that so?" I raise an eyebrow, crossing my arms and trying not to feel aroused by him ordering for me, because my omega nature is obsessed with that. "And what makes you think you know my order?"

Dash's smile turns wicked. "Just a hunch. Besides, everyone loves extra guac."

"I'm not everyone," I retort, but I catch Quinn's eye in the rearview mirror, and he's smirking. "Fine. Three carne asada tacos with extra guacamole."

"See?" Dash leans back with a satisfied grin. "Told you."

Quinn places the order, adding a ridiculous amount of food for himself and Dash. I'm starting to think they have bottomless pits instead of stomachs.

Alphas…

As we wait in line, Dash continues to make himself comfortable, sprawling out as much as he can. "So, Aria, tell me about yourself. What's a girl like you doing with a guy like Quinn?"

I narrow my eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, nothing," Dash says innocently, but his eyes sparkle with mischief. "Just curious. You don't seem like the type to hang out with my boring brother."

"Boring?" I glance at Quinn, who's focused on the drive-through window. "He doesn't seem boring to me."

"That's because you haven't known him as long as I have," Dash replies with a wink. "Trust me, he's the king of boring."

Quinn hands the cash to the attendant, ignoring Dash's jabs. "Don't listen to him, Aria. He's just jealous because I actually have a functioning brain."

"Hey!" Dash protests, feigning hurt. "I have a brain. It's just more fun oriented."

"Chaos oriented, you mean," Quinn deadpans, taking the bags of food and passing them back to me. "Here, distribute these wisely."

As I distribute the bags, I can't resist asking, "So, Dash, what's your damage? Besides being a sloppy alpha who likes to start fights with bouncers."

I am so glad I can't scent them over the liquor, sweat, and tacos. The plugs in my nose, a necessary evil since that incident at the airport, are doing their job. I hope they can't smell me.

No one needs to know about the duct tape over my scent glands. It's not exactly comfortable, but it's better than the alternative. Being scented as an unmated omega in a city? No thanks. I've learned that lesson the hard way.

Dash chuckles, accepting his food. "Well, when you put it like that… I'm the fun one, the life of the party, and the guy everyone wants to be around."

"Sounds exhausting," I reply, taking a bite of my taco. The flavors explode in my mouth, and I can't help the small moan that escapes. "Okay, these are really good."

"Told you," Dash says, smugness dripping from his tone. "Stick with me, and I'll show you all the best spots."

"Is that a promise?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

Down, girl.

"Absolutely," Dash says, leaning forward again. "In fact, how about we make a deal? You hang out with us for the rest of the night, and I'll show you the time of your life."

"Thanks, but no thanks," I say, forcing a smile. "I've had enough near-death experiences for one night."

"Your loss," Dash says, but there's no malice in his tone, "but the offer stands."

Quinn pulls out of the drive-through and starts heading back to the main road. "All right, Dash, that's enough. Aria, you don't have to entertain his nonsense."

"It's not nonsense," Dash protests. "It's an invitation."

"To what?" I challenge, looking between the brothers. "More drunken shenanigans?"

"Maybe," Dash says with a wink. "I promise you won't regret it."

I shake my head, smiling despite myself. "I think I've had my fill for tonight, but thanks for the tacos."

"My pleasure," Dash says, settling back with a satisfied grin. "But next time, you're coming out with us."

"We'll see," I lie, finishing my taco. No one will ever catch me anywhere close to a bar. Not again.

Quinn navigates the streets with ease, and I direct him toward my neighborhood. As we get closer, the scenery changes, and the polished buildings give way to run-down structures and flickering streetlights. I feel a pang of embarrassment but push it aside. This is my reality.

Quinn slows the car as we enter my block. The contrast is stark, and I can feel the tension rise in the car. Dash's playful demeanor fades, replaced by a sharp, protective edge.

"This is where you live?" Quinn asks, his voice low and controlled.

"Pfft," I say with a dismissive shrug. "It's not exactly the Ritz, but it'll do for now. At least it's home."

Quinn's grip on the steering wheel tightens, and Dash leans forward, scanning the surroundings with a critical gaze.

"This place is a dump," Dash mutters, the words a growl. "You shouldn't be living here."

"It's fine," I say quickly, not wanting to get into it. Also, the scent hides me. An omega has to do what an omega has to do. "I manage."

Quinn pulls up to my building and parks the car. "We're walking you to the door," he declares, leaving no room for argument.

"You don't have to?—"

"We insist," Dash interrupts.

Before I can protest further, both brothers are out of the car. Quinn opens my door, offering his hand to help me out. I take it, feeling the warmth of his grip.

"Thanks," I mumble, stepping onto the cracked pavement. I hold my nose because he's close and I don't want to smell him.

What would I do if he smelled good? Swoon? Oh hell no.

An omega doesn't simply swoon, we swan dive toward the armpits.

Dash takes up position on my other side, his presence a solid wall of protection. They flank me as we walk toward my run-down apartment building, their eyes constantly scanning for any potential threats. Surprisingly, Dash doesn't stumble once.

"Don't worry about me," I say with a hint of sarcasm. "I've been doing just fine on my own for ages."

"No one doubts that," Quinn says, his voice soothing, "but it doesn't mean you have to do it alone."

We finally arrive at my front door, and I fumble with my keys, my hands trembling. Dash notices and places a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "I've got you," he says in a calm tone.

I unlock the door and turn to face them. "Thanks for the ride and the tacos. You didn't have to do this."

Quinn's eyes soften, and he reaches out, gently squeezing my arm. "If I didn't, then Cayenne would literally murder me, and not in my sleep either."

Dash winces. "Yeah, we don't fuck with Cayenne." Dash puts on the charm. "Besides, I know where you live now." He winks.

I smile, feeling warmth spread through me that has nothing to do with the lingering effects of the tacos. "Use that information wisely."

Quinn steps back, his gaze lingering on me for a moment. "Stay safe, Aria. We'll be seeing you soon."

Is that a promise?

"Good night," I say, reluctant to see them go.

They retreat toward the car, fading into the darkness. I observe them for a moment, overwhelmed with gratitude and an unknown emotion. As I shut the door, their presence still lingers, and I realize I don't want to face my home alone.

That is how I know the Clarke brothers are bad for my health.