Chapter 27

"Are you ready?" Nilan asked when we arrived at the storage area.

Lights and loud music could be seen and heard from the nearby large warehouse. We met at the bus stop, and Nilan drove us to our destination. Ranold never returned home that day. And I was extremely happy. At the very least, I wouldn't have to look him in the eyes and force myself to be nice. But did I really have to force myself? My mind raced with a thought. I wasn't certain. I felt like I was just dancing to his tune lately. He could have done something to my mind or body. I just couldn't be so obedient. But let's leave these thoughts for now. We have a more important task to complete.

"I'm so excited!" Ethan squealed, putting his head between the two front seats. "It will be great!"

I only nodded and slightly smiled.

"I hope everything works out and we finally catch that jerk, Ranold Hamilton," Nilan looked at the bright warehouse, decorated in Halloween's trappings.

I was ready. We got out of the car and crossed the road. There were a lot of people outside, drinking and chatting. They were all dressed in dark clothes. Some of them had their faces painted to look like skeletons or witches. I was surprised.

"Hi!" A cute girl waved us. "Welcome to the party! Who do you want to be?"

"A wiiitch!" Ethan exclaimed and came closer, whispering to us something like "blending in".

I crossed my arms across my chest.

"Nervous?" Nilan asked, his hands in his pockets.

"A little," I replied quickly.

"Everything will be fine. You remember?" He raised his brows slightly, implying the police.

"Sure," I responded quietly.

But it didn't make me feel any better. I had a feeling something was going to go wrong. That feeling you get when something big is about to happen and you have a few doubts about it. And you start wondering if it's worth it and if it's a good time to do it. I had the same emotion. I knew we had a helping hand there, but the sense of loss didn't go away.

"I'm ready!" Ethan said with the design on his face. "Let's go!"

We finally entered. There was no security. No, there wasn't, but some of our "colleagues" distracted the guard from the entrance and we were able to sneak inside while they switched positions. The atmosphere was breathtaking. Everyone was having a good time and dancing wildly. Hundreds of people were jumping and screaming along with the singer. The bartenders were working nonstop, trying to serve everyone.

"Your tickets?" asked the girl with the spider painted on her face.

"Sure," Nilan said as he handed her the ticket, and we did as well.

"Oh, the companions!" She exclaimed, disappearing beneath the table with various neon bracelets. "A red one for the good guys!"

She finally appeared, handing us red bracelets. We wore them around our wrists. Neon and bright. They were far too bright for our outfits. I was dressed in black boots, black leather shorts, and a black jersey with a fishnet shirt. Nilan and Ethan were also dressed in black.

"All right," Nilan said, looking around. "It's time to separate. Join the crowd and look for something out of the ordinary. Keep in mind that we are looking for dealers." He checked his watch. "It is now 11:27 a.m. They will loosen up their guard after midnight because most people will have been drugged by then. As a result, they believe that no one will notice anything. You have 30 minutes to relax before embarking on the mission. If anything goes wrong, we'll meet at the bar. The officer can be identified by a black man wearing a red bracelet."

With a nod, Ethan and I agreed. Nilan had left us.

"So, my friend," Ethan said, grabbing my hand. "Should we unwind?" He dragged me right into the middle of the party. I didn't fight back. We talked about it before: the best way to find the dealer was to blend in with the crazy crowd. People who are dancing rarely pay attention to what is going on around them.

They completely surrender to the music, and those who are different are easily identified. Or, more accurately, who is looking for someone to sell something to. Nilan should have stayed at the bar and stood guard outside the crowd while Ethan and I looked for the dealer from inside. The plan was excellent, and it seemed that we had considered every move, but... We completely forgot that the man we were trying to prosecute was Ranold fucking Hamilton himself. That was our blunder.

"Isn't the music cool?" Ethan yelled at me over the music.

I nodded and continued to dance. We parted ways with Ethan around 1 a.m. He moved closer to the stage, while I remained in the middle. Dancing by yourself was a little bemusing, but what wouldn't you do for a good cause? The outcome was the most pleasant. I was looking around carefully, dancing in a low manner, pretending to be tired and drunk. But my eyes were on the lookout for something out of the ordinary. Who would have thought that "uncommon" would catch my exposure at first? I ran into someone's chest at another turn.

"Hi, Olivier," I heard a painfully familiar voice say, followed by a strong grip.

'No way, not this!' I screamed in my head. 'Not again!' I felt his bitter kiss on my lips. My body became weak at that precise moment. I grabbed his arms, unable to stand still any longer. He was passionately kissing me. Fuck, I gave up from the very beginning.

"Ranold..." When he started kissing my neck, I whispered it loudly, but it sounded more like a groan.

'Fuck you!' I screamed it with all my fury, but all I could do was snuggle closer to him, squeezing his shirt.

"Do you see us, Anastasia?" He said it right next to my ear.

"For sure," I heard a familiar voice say somewhere nearby. "I can't wait to shoot you both and put an end to your smooth-talking."

"Excellent," my husband said, raising his head. "That means I'm in your crosshairs. Excellent work, Anastasia."

I noticed an earphone in his ear after she told him something. He responded with a small laugh and a dangerous smile. I couldn't remember what it was because I was distracted by a more pressing issue below. I felt heat all over my body, as if I were on fire from within. All of my senses became overly sensitive at the same time he hugged me tightly. I was breathing heavily and trying to relax, but nothing worked. I was only aroused by his presence. And I despised it. I despised myself for my weakness.

"What did you do to me?" I hissed, trying to get away from his embrace.

"Nothing," he said calmly, as if nothing had happened. "Have you forgotten you're omega?"

I froze. 'Fuck!' flashed through my mind. 'I completely forgot!' I completely forgot I was omega during all of these preparations! It was the last week of October. To be accurate, the 31st. The evening of November 1st. It was the beginning of September two months ago. Once every two months. For the next four days. How could I have forgotten?!

"Let me go," I mumbled, turning my back on his chest.

"No," Ranold gripped me even more tightly.

"What did you do to me?" I tried to speak loudly, but it appeared that I was moaning devoutly.

I didn't notice any symptoms. Any hints. Nothing! Only when he touched me did I feel the heat. Did my body react to him in some way?

"Don't you remember the last time we spent your heat together?" He asked, gently kissing me in the ear.

I despised him for saying that to me. I didn't want to do it. I tried to fight back, but he was too strong. He literally...

"If my husband needs me, I will be there for him," he said softly before raising my face to gently kiss me.

"No..." I broke the kiss by turning away and clinging to his arm with my nails, noticing the same red neon bracelet on his wrist.

A sudden realization struck me. "The companions." How could I have been so stupid?! New Orleans was led by Ranold Hamilton. The big daddy. Everything was under his control. How could we have imagined catching him? He had known everything from the beginning. The bracelets, the costumes, the paintings on his and others' faces. "The spiders," "the skeletons"... He was aware of everything. He calculated everything.

I looked around, noticing the dealer near the wall through the crowd. He was handing the guy the small pocket containing the drugs. The dealer had a "skeleton" painting on his face as well. Exactly like Ranold. He was also wearing the red bracelet. Ranold Hamilton anticipated our arrival. He was aware of everything. That explained why he wasn't home yesterday. He was getting ready to catch me, to show me that there was nothing I could do.

'Ethan and Nilan are in danger!' The thought came to me out of nowhere.

"Please let me go," I begged. "Please!"

"Why?" I flinched as I felt his warm lips on my shoulder.

"Please..." I turned around to face him.

I shivered as he looked me in the eyes, feeling an unexpected peace deep within me. He didn't respond straight away. He squinted his eyes slightly, as if trying to read my thoughts, and then moved closer.

"No," he said right into my lips before kissing me passionately. "Your pals will be fine. I promise it."

I felt a surge of relief. His words persuaded me that everything would be fine. I was no longer terrified. I simply sighed and relaxed in his strong arms. He eventually started patting my back. I couldn't have predicted how excited I would be by his touch. I could feel every movement of his hot palm, every flinch of his fingers, every sound of his breath. I completely vanished in him, leaving the dimmed surroundings behind. Except for the two of us, nothing existed in that world. And a sudden cold barrel on my chin. I jerked awake, opening my eyes, and grabbing my husband's wrists.

"Frank, my friend," my husband said from behind me. "Threatening my husband with a gun in front of me is a bad sign."

"Shut up, Hamilton!" said the man poking the gun into my neck. "You're under siege right now. You brought the cops here, man. And your fucking lass was one of them."

The man took my hand in his and showed my husband the red bracelet.

"Frank, it's just a bracelet," my husband said, smiling.

"No, man, you, fucking!" He shoved the gun into my chest. "Using your husband as a human shield to avoid getting shot in the chest, ha?"

"My husband is an omega, and he's in heat; I can't just leave him alone," Ranold replied.

"Really?" The gun pressed against my stomach. "So should I fuck him for you? Let's see how quickly you can change your tune."

"No! Ranold!" I squealed as the man pressed the gun against my cheek.

"You fucking bitch, shut the fuck up!" He yelled directly into my face, ripping my shorts.

The cold metal rubbed against my cock.

"Do you like it, little bitch?" He asked, rubbing the gun quickly and harshly against my sensitive red dickhead.

However, I did not. I was sobbing and crying. It happened once again. My husband was just standing there watching me get buggered.

"Please..." I begged the stranger, whimpering.

"Bitch, shut your fucking mouth!" He inserted the gun into my mouth and rubbed it along my tongue, forcing me to suck it.

I could taste my grease and sperm on it. And I was whimpering as I felt my husband's hot body behind me.

"Look!" exclaimed the man, raising his hands in the air. "I fucked you, hubby! I fucked your fucking bitch and..."

I shuddered as I saw the splash of blood and brains in the air. The man fell to the floor, a hole in his temple.