Lola & the Millionaires: Part Two

by Kathryn Moon

  “Sore?” I asked.

  “A little.”

  Damn, never mind then. Lola was in high demand with the pack, and none of us wanted her to end up uncomfortable because we couldn’t get enough of her.

  “Shower with me?” Lola asked, sitting up and pecking at my nose.

  I nodded and wrapped my arms around her, Lola giggling as I stood. I could totally keep my hands to myself for twenty minutes, right?

  “You have a photoshoot today, don’t you?” Lola asked in a whisper.

  Cyrus was sprawled out over the sheets as we snuck back through my room. He’d probably woken up at some point and knew exactly what we were up to, but I’d thank him later for letting me have selfish Lola time.

  “Mhm. Think they’re calling it urban retro,” I said, setting Lola down once we were in the bathroom.

  Lola ran on tiptoes to the open shower, hopping in place as she turned the water on high and giving me a wonderful view as she bounced, waiting for it to warm up. “So Wes will be with you?”

  “No, I’ve got Danny driving and a new beta…Troy or Trevor? I can’t remember. You know Wes wants to be on hand for you,” I said, stepping under the water with Lola as she twisted her hair up off her shoulders.

  Her brow furrowed and she reached for a bottle of shampoo. “Let me wash it, I’ll give you a scalp massage. What do you mean? Wes isn’t your security because of me?”

  Backtrack, buddy, I warned myself at the first anxious note in Lola's voice. “He will be for some things, I’m sure. But these shoots always have their own security anyway, and his new guy will get a chance to train. He might even have another client he’s dealing with,” I said, bending my head and sighing as Lola dug sudsy fingers into my hair.

  “He’s still your alpha, even if we’re bonded. You trust him,” Lola murmured.

  “I do. And I trust him to find me replacements when he can’t make it,” I said, grinning. I wrapped my arms around Lola’s waist and drew her to my chest. “Don’t stress, Lollipop.”

  I bent my head and slid my lips over hers, water drumming over my head and shoulders until it sent shampoo rinsing down my face.

  Lola pulled away, face scrunching. “Ugh, shampoo kiss. Turn around and lemme scrub you before you get all excited again.”

  “Oh yeah, ‘cause having your hands all over me makes it so much easier to stay calm,” I said, and I grinned as Lola giggled at my back.

  Urban and retro sounded good until it was urban, retro, and raining. It looked great in the shots but it was a cold spring day, and I was officially soggy from head to toe and losing my patience with the work. More and more, an early retirement was looking tempting. I'd always have work if I took care of myself and I wanted it, but it might be getting time to rest on my laurels and enjoy being a homebody omega after all.

  The crew had rustled together a hastily organized shelter for me under an awning, around the corner of the alley we were using. I was huddled there in my next outfit and a fluffy robe, waiting for Travis—not Troy or Trevor—to bring me a hot tea as I listened to the crew wrestling a dumpster over a brick drive for the next shot.

  “What’s going on over there?”

  I looked up from the game on my phone and frowned at the man walking up the alley. Hadn’t security put partitions up? The lanky figure striding toward me almost looked as though he belonged in the pages of the photoshoot. Not his clothes—grimy and threadbare punk-rock was all wrong—but something about his energy. Physically, he was angular and harsh, the proportions on his face not quite right. But still…he was the kind of hot that came with a penetrating stare and regretting all your decisions the next morning as you went to get tested, just in case. Not my type, but someone’s.

  “There’s a photoshoot happening. Private permits,” I said, glancing back to the corner. I was out of sight of the crew in my hiding spot, and I wasn't sure if it was worth getting soaked just to avoid this stray.

  “That must make you some kind of supermodel,” he said, continuing closer.

  I resisted the urge to stiffen at that first whiff. Bitter, sour, sticky. An alpha. Feral, by the look of him. But I was not prey, and I refused to act like it. Stressing would just make him want to chase. And that scent…

  “No super, just the basic kind,” I said, hoping the old trick of turning back to my phone would drop a hint.

  “Hey. I know who you are. That omega, Rakim Oren… I have a friend who knows you,” he said, lowering his voice as he stood within arm's reach of me.

  My stomach dropped as the scent clicked in my head. I’d smelled this alpha before. Not in person, but in traces around Lola’s apartment. I glanced up and studied the man in front of me, not bothering to temper the hate in my glare. Indy. Pocked cheeks and mean lips and greased back hair with shaved sides. So this was him. And he’d found me.

  Poor Wes is gonna be pissed about this. And Lola… Lola would feel like it was her fault.

  “She’s not your friend,” I said, voice flat.

  Indy just grinned at me, a chipped tooth winking at me like a short fang. I moved to step into the rain, join the crew, and his hand snapped out like a whip, catching me by my arm and holding me in an iron grip. He pressed to my back, free arm wrapping around me to yank my phone from my fingers.

  And now you’ve lost your chance to call the cops, Rake. Come on, Travis. Hurry your ass up.

  “I was gonna ask you to give her a message for me, but now I think I have a better idea,” Indy said.

  My eyes were on the brick wall ahead of me and I was ready to shout, when I heard the metallic click at my back, a cold sinking weight settling in my chest. I glanced back over my shoulder and there was a gun. I knew Wes owned guns and I’d seen them in his holster before, but it was like it was an entirely different animal to be staring at the mouth of one, pointed at me with intent to harm. Or at least the threat.

  “Don’t scream. Male omegas aren’t my type, and I don’t give a shit about you. You can come with me, or I can leave you dead in this alley. Either way is fun for me,” Indy snarled in my ear, tugging on my arm.

  I jerked, wanting to fight or run or flip him off, but the press of the cold gunmetal at the back of my neck drew a cruel, scared part of myself out of hiding. I believed that Indy would shoot me. That he’d be as happy to leave me dead as he would to drag me off and put my pack into a state of panic. Either would make Lola miserable.

  But only one of the two would be permanent. And Indy didn’t know what he was in for, dealing with Wes. Lola might be his bondmate, but I was his omega, his friend, his family.

  “Look at you, what a good little omega,” Indy growled as I stopped resisting and let him drag me down the narrow little walkway between buildings. “This serves your pack right for letting you out of the house. Unattended omegas aren’t safe, you know. What? You used up all your polite conversation already?”

  There was a dinged up old hot rod idling on the sidewalk we were approaching, but the neighborhood of the photoshoot was mostly run down and empty. There was no one passing by for me to call to as Indy shoved me toward the car.

  “You’re awfully chatty for a dead alpha,” I said, and grunted as Indy wrestled me into the backseat, pushing me in and toward an alpha waiting by the drivers side door.

  There was another alpha behind the wheel of the car, this one with a halfway pleasant smell of toasted bread, although at the moment the smell was soured by nerves. Whoever they were, they were both covered in black hoodies and plastic Halloween skull masks. Like that wouldn’t attract attention. The one at my side grabbed my wrists and bound them up in a few twists of duct tape.

  “Go,” Indy barked at the alpha, sliding in at my side.

  The car jumped to a jerking start, squealing as it pulled away from the curb.

  “I said I didn’t like male omegas, but I know a few alphas who won’t give a shit as long as you’ve got a hole they can knot. I’d keep your smart mouth to yourself,” Indy said, keeping the gun digging into
my side.

  I fought my own wince and swallowed, grinding my teeth together to bury the curses I wanted to spit at Indy. In my chest, worry was scratching from Caleb and Cyrus, and I tugged hard on our bonds.

  “You said we could use him if she came,” the alpha on my right hissed.

  “When she comes,” Indy echoed. “Then he’s yours.”

  My alphas were calling back, terror spiking in my chest as the threat to Lola, the threat to me burned like poison in my stomach.

  Twenty-Five

  Lola

  It came from two places at once. Anger, terror, and guilt from Wes that made my muscles tense and my hands form tight fists at my side before he promptly slammed a door on our bond, the blank space leaving me hollow. And a slow dread like melting ice coming from Matthieu.

  “Lola?” Zane asked, leaning to me where I was bent in my seat, pushing back from the desk.

  The cut off from Wes was a punch to the gut, but there was something worse in the mix—a shock so deep, I was fighting the urge to double over.

  “I…I need to—” I stumbled as I rose up from the chair, grabbing my bag and running for the door.

  “Lola, are you okay?” Anna called.

  I spun in the doorway and then gasped as Matthieu did something with the bond. It was like he had an actual grip on my heart. My hand pressed over my mark, and I sighed as he settled in relief.

  “I think I need to go,” I said, the room spinning around me. “Tell—tell Maureen…”

  Tell her what? That I was just running out of work in the middle of the day? I didn’t have an option. Something was wrong with the pack.

  One of the girls called goodbye as I rushed for the elevators. Maybe the stairs would be better? Did I even know where I was going?

  The elevators arrived before I even had to press the button, doors opening to reveal Matthieu with the phone to his ear and a slumped Cyrus at his side. I ran in and Matthieu tugged me to his chest, the doors sliding shut behind us.

  “I have her, we’re going down to the car now. Where do you want us?”

  “Tell Wes I want to come,” Cyrus rasped. His breathing was labored and his warm skin now looked ashy.

  “He says home,” Matthieu answered.

  “Fuck that. I’m not going home while Rake is missing. He’s terrified, Matthieu! Give me the phone.”

  Matthieu hesitated and then passed Cyrus the phone, both of his arms fastening tightly around my shoulders.

  “Rake?” I asked, tipping my head back.

  Matthieu’s face was lined with tension, his jaw ticking. “He went missing on set in Old Downtown. Somewhere between ten to fifteen minutes ago. Cyrus came to see me when he felt Rake’s panic, and then Wes got the call from his employee a few minutes later. We’re going to go home and wait for Wes—”

  “I am his alpha!” Cyrus barked over the phone, and I jumped and skidded out of reach on instinct.

  “Cyrus, enough,” Matthieu growled, sliding between us. The words weren’t as sharp or loud, but they were equally powerful.

  I glanced over to the elevator buttons and realized why we hadn’t needed to stop yet. Matthieu had some kind of master key for privacy.

  Cyrus snarled softly back at Matthieu but settled, glancing at the phone and then shoving it back into Matthieu’s hands. “He hung up on me.”

  “Because you were wasting his time. Wes knows what he’s doing, and talking you down over the phone won’t help.”

  Cyrus growled and shifted in place before catching my eye over Matthieu’s shoulder. “Fuck, sunshine, I’m—”

  I pulled free from Matthieu and hurried to Cyrus, snatching him up in a hug as he lifted me off the floor, my heels dangling from my toes. “It’s fine. Has anyone called Caleb and Leo?”

  “Mm, I’ll take care of it,” Matthieu murmured, his hand passing down my back briefly before leaving me to Cyrus’ almost painfully tight embrace.

  The elevator chimed as we reached the lobby and I pushed gently on Cyrus’ shoulders to coax him into setting me down, his hand clammy and grip desperate as it wrapped around mine.

  “This is Indy,” I breathed, staring at our reflection on the wall.

  Cyrus looked twice at me and his head jerked. “Not…not necessarily. Rake’s an omega, and he has over-enthusiastic fans who find his schedules and track his social media. If security was lax or he was recognized in the area…Rake would try to keep them calm.”

  Rake would try and keep you calm too, I thought but didn’t say. It was obvious that Cyrus knew this was more serious. We all did. If anything, it made it worse to know that any overzealous fan might’ve grabbed Rake. At least I knew what Indy wanted.

  We hurried to the black town car waiting for us, and Cyrus’ eyes scanned the sidewalk and streets as if he might spot Rake out in the open. Squeezed together in the back seat of the car, I dug my phone from my purse as we pulled away from the curb.

  “Who are you calling?” Matthieu asked.

  “The Howlers. Old Downtown is their territory, maybe they’ll see someone.”

  Cyrus huffed, a weak and watery sound, bending forward and kissing the top of my head as Matthieu squeezed my knee.

  “Thank you, Lola,” Matthieu murmured. “Give them Wes’ number?”

  I nodded and made the call to Baby, listening to her bark orders to her alphas who bustled into motion over the line.

  “If the neighborhood saw anything, the boys will find out,” Baby said.

  “Love you, Babe.”

  “Love you, Lo! Keep me updated.”

  The drive back to the house was silent, and I wished we were turning around and heading in the opposite direction. Matthieu typed at rapid speed on his phone as Cyrus crushed my fingers in his grasp, clinging to me like a lifeline. I wanted to ask him what Rake was feeling, and at the same time I wished I knew how to distract him. Instead, I simply leaned into his side, trying to let some of his tension and worry bleed into me just so he didn’t have to carry it alone.

  We made it back to the house at the same time as Leo, pale and shaking as he stepped out of a car and joined us on the way to the door. Caleb was waiting, eyes red and shining, hands wringing together. He and Leo collided in the entryway, Cyrus finally releasing my hand to join them.

  “Anything from Wes?” Caleb whispered.

  “Not yet,” Matthieu answered. “He promised to get in touch by…any minute now. Let’s go upstairs and—”

  My phone buzzed in my purse and I grimaced, squeezing past my men and heading for the stairs as I pulled it out. “Sorry, I’ll turn…” My words trailed off as I glanced down at the screen.

  It was a video chat request. From Rake.

  “Lola?” Leo called.

  “Shh.” I spun to face them, my finger raised to my lips. “No one say anything. No matter what.”

  Cyrus started toward me, but Matthieu caught him by the back of his suit and held him in place as I turned back to my screen, phone vibrating in my palm. My own expression was there staring at me, tense and terrified as I raised a finger to swipe.

  It was dark at first, blurry and pixelated. And then a light turned on somewhere and I gasped, my free hand reaching up to slap over my lips. Rake’s face was there in the dark, eyes glaring at the camera. A dark cloth was tied around his mouth, and his bottom lip was swollen and bruised.

  “Looks like I finally have your attention, Showgirl,” Indy hissed from behind the camera, and an avalanche of loathsome confirmation of my worst fears dropped inside of me, numbing me from the waist down.

  I pulled my hand from my mouth and hardened my expression. Indy didn’t deserve to see my worry.

  “What? No hello?”

  Matthieu was roaring with anger inside of me, and I didn’t dare look up from the phone to check on his control.

  “Rake, I love you,” I murmured, watching Rake’s glare ease.

  The camera moved, backing away, and I swallowed hard and withheld my whimper as Indy revealed the figures in black,
their skull masks pale and glowing in the dark as they surrounded Rake. He was bound to a rickety looking chair and, aside from the split lip, he looked unharmed so far. He was even still wearing whatever suit he must’ve had on for the photoshoot.

  “I thought this might bring you out of hiding,” Indy croaked.

  I wanted to shove a lead pipe through his voice. It was bad enough to still have it running through my head and pinning my self-confidence six feet underground for a year. Having to put up with it in real life again made me sick.

  Worse though, was when he tapped the screen and flipped the camera to face him. I’d never liked him. Even those first few times, I’d tolerated his face and his hands and his breath on my neck, thinking—no, just pretending—that it might impress Buzz. Another waste of my time. Buzz had disguised his cruelty. Indy relished in it, and that was clear even now on the taunting twist of his lips.

  “What do you want?” I whispered.

  Indy grinned, and hatred burned through me like a brushfire knowing I had to play his game. But Rake wasn’t going to go through what I went through. I would cooperate with Indy as much as I had to to get Rake back to our pack.

  “You know what, Showgirl. I’ve had a lot of betas, but not one cried as pretty as you.”

  I swallowed bile and looked away from the screen while Indy laughed at me. The pack, waiting a couple yards away, looked at their wits end, and Matthieu’s gaze was so powerful on me I thought he might be able to actually drag me closer.

  “Not one took a knot like you did either.”

  My eyes whipped back to the screen and I spoke loudly to cover the rumbling growls off frame. “Go to fucking hell!”

  “You know what I want, Lola. You and only you, comin' to visit me. And if you take that stupid fucking head of yours and use it to think for two seconds, you’ll know where to find me too,” Indy growled. “But I swear to god, if you fuck it up and anybody walks in but you, this omega is dead. It would be my absolute pleasure to do it.”

  The screen blinked and went black. My knees crumpled and no one was fast enough to catch me, although Matthieu came sliding in over the polished wood, dragging me into his arms a moment later. His body was rigid and his growl was thunderous.