“You’re investing in that thing?”
“I don’t know yet. What do you think?”
A yawn tears through me before I have the chance to politely cover my mouth. “I think ask me again after I have some coffee in me.”
“Perfect timing then,” he announces.
I open my eyes, just as we pull off the main road and into a large parking lot where a bright pink shack with a tin roof stands proudly, lights ablaze and someone bustling around inside.
“Coffee Ever After,” Archer reveals as we pull up to the window. “Best damn coffee in the state. Maybe in the world. What are you having? Personally, I recommend the Iced Elsa for those who like it soft, and the Maleficent Macchiato for those who take it hard. So how about it? How do you like it, Violet?”
I swallow hard at the implication. How do I like it? Whatever the case, it seems somebody’s already had a healthy dose of morning caffeine. “I’ll go with the Iced Elsa.”
Archer winces. “Ouch. Okay, we’ll work you up to the hard stuff. Just you wait.”
Our drinks appear through the tiny window on the side of the building with record speed, and just like that we’re off again.
“Where are we going?” I ask casually as I swirl my drink around with its paper straw.
He shakes his head and tsks. “I already told you. It’s a surprise.”
“Actually,” I correct with a smile on my face, “you told BB. Not me.”
At the mention of her name, BB chimes brightly. “I’m here, Alpha Archer. How can I assist you?”
I giggle at the poor robotic assistant. She so badly wants to help, but it’s clear Archer won’t let her.
He rolls his eyes. “Not now, BB,” he growls to the Beta Bot, and then to me, “Admittedly, they still have some bugs to work out. That’s why they’re looking for another round of investors before hitting the market.”
I nod but don’t want to stray too far off topic, so I bring us back around to what I actually need to know. “If you won’t tell me where we’re going, perhaps you’ll tell me why. Why are you kidnapping me at three in the morning on a Tuesday?”
He shrugs; his eyes remain on the road. “I wanted some alone time with you.”
“And you knew the others would raise a fuss.”
“Raise a fuss, freak the fuck out. Tomato, tomato.” He turns toward me for a second. A strand of dark hair falls onto his forehead and he pushes it back—making me think of Miles.
“Why are you so hard on them?” I ask. It seems like a good time to have it out with him since we can’t be interrupted by the others.
“Because they need someone to blame for all their problems. And it’s easier for everyone if that’s me.”
I study him for a moment, trying to discover what he might be hiding. Problems? Just what did I get myself into with Pack Muldoon? “Care to elaborate?” I ask softly.
“You’re not our first omega,” Archer reveals with a quick glance toward me to see how his words register. I’d expected some macho response, like he’s the strongest and can take it, or that they’re all jealous of him anyway. But this? This admission catches me off guard.
“Oh.” I try to keep my expression blank while my mind gallops off in a thousand directions.
For the first time since I’ve known him, Archer sounds nervous. How long has he been holding this back? And was he ever planning on telling me? God, I’m such a hypocrite.
“I’m sorry none of us told you earlier,” he’s quick to explain. “I think we—I was just afraid that it would scare you off without taking the time to get to know us.”
I think back to my conversation with my mother right before we met Miles for the first time. She insinuated that Pack Muldoon might have secrets of its own, said that’s why they were looking for an omega from out of state. Although she’d ventured their shame came from an impoverished background rather than anything else. I never once suspected she could be right. That I might not be the only one harboring a heavy secret.
My lips are dry, my throat parched. I take another sip of my Iced Elsa and ask, “What happened?”
Archer keeps one hand on the steering wheel and uses the other to untuck the shirt from his belt. He drags the fabric up and turns slightly to the side to reveal a terrible scar. I’d seen him without his shirt before but failed to notice this particular mark with his collection of tattoos on display—not to mention his dick.
“Oh my God. Are you all right? What happened?” I reach out to trace a finger over the marred flesh.