“My brain might be a little fucked right now, but I don’t think I stuttered. You’ve done more than enough.”
I watch his Adam’s apple bob a few times before he nods his head in agreement. When the plane comes to a stop, I rush to my feet, cursing as dizziness assaults me. The medic steps into me and I level him with a glare. He raises his hands in surrender and steps back. The door opens with a bang, and Oren rushes in, his eyes looking me over.
“You look like shit, man,” he quips.
“Get fucked, O.”
He snorts. “You offering, big boy?”
I shake my head, then turn to remove the IV bag from the pole secured to the seat. Without wasting another glance at the medic, I hobble past Oren and out the door, barely able to hold myself up as I descend the steps.
A hand grabs my bicep and I shrug it off, turning to glare at Oren for touching me. I don’t want or need his help right now, I just need him to get me to The Omen Mansion so I can find my fucking girl.
Oren just scoffs, readjusting his grip despite my protest.
“Malia has shot me for leaving shit stains in her toilet. I’m not going to be responsible for you falling and fucking up your face,” he grumbles. “I’m too pretty for her to flay this work of art.”
I chuckle half-heartedly. Oren was always good in stressful situations while we were working cases for the FBI. If it wasn’t for the tension around his eyes and lips, I’d think he didn’t care about Malia being taken. It makes me curious if the things I know about him and his life were fabricated along with everything else; if The Omen fabricated my old friend’s upbringing, or if it was true and he just left out the criminal pieces.
We make it to a blacked-out Escalade and climb into the back. I raise an eyebrow when I see we have a driver; I’m used to seeing Oren drive on his own. Oren sits in front of me in the customized backseat, so we’re facing each other. He shrugs a shoulder at me and raises the partition to separate us from the driver.
“Talk,” Oren demands once we’re protected from prying eyes and ears.
“Don’t trust your own driver?” I ask, not wanting to recount anything with anyone who isn’t The Omen.
Oren rests his elbows on his knees, leaning closer to me, a frown on his face.
“I know we have some personal issues right now, Li,” he sighs. “But that shit doesn’t matter. I need to know what happened to you and what happened with Mal, so I can get Hazel to work while you fill Nate in.”
I blow out a heavy breath and swipe a hand down my face, conceding and pushing aside my need to be a dickhead at the moment. Oren and I can work our shit out later, but he’s right, and I need to give him something to work with.
“Tell me I can trust you with her, that you will do whatever you have to bring her home to me,” I rasp, my throat suddenly dry as the events of yesterday assault my mind.
Oren watches me for a moment, his usual playful demeanor lost in the seriousness of our situation. Putting trust in him after everything is asking a lot of me and I need to see the truth in his eyes as he gives me his word.
He straightens and flops his back against the seat, his gaze drifting to the window as he falls into silence.
“If you’re going to lie to me, look me in the eye at least,” I grumble.
He raises a dark eyebrow at me and crosses his arms tightly against his chest.
I take in details of his appearance I hadn’t noticed before. There’s dust on the shoulder of his t-shirt, and loose black hair has fallen from his normally immaculate man-bun. It’s not often Oren looks disheveled. The man has primped and primed his way through life for as long as I’ve known him.
“Friendship in our world is hard to come by. Trusted friends are few and far between. In our house, things were a little different,” he says with a shrug, finally meeting my eyes. “Malia and I grew up together, she’s never been one to take on friends, but when Nate had my dad bring me in, we were teenagers. I thought she was hot, so I tried to play my cards right to gain her attention.”
My eyes narrow at his confession, and he chuckles.
“Nah, it’s not like that,” he says, shaking his head. “Innocent crush and Malia was always untouchable.”
I snort.
“Says her father or yours?”
Oren quirks his brow again while giving me a pointed look.
“Says Malia and that mean streak. I quickly learned that, if I liked my dick attached to my body, I’d keep my tongue in my mouth and hands to myself.”
I can’t help the smile that slides across my face. Malia’s brutality and brashness have always been a direct arrow to my cock. After being with her day in and day out the last few weeks, I can already feel the hollowness of her absence settling into my bones.