Page 18 of Knotted their Beauty

He blinks wide, scared eyes at me and shakes his head. “I don’t follow hockey.”

I lean in close, putting us almost nose to nose as I grin. “Manslaughter. Killed a player on the ice during a game. A fight broke out and I split his head open with my skate, cracked right down the middle like a cantaloupe. No one knew if it was from excessive force, or sociopathic tendencies.”

It was sociopathic tendencies, but no one knows that.

No one except my brother.

We both went pro at young ages, playing for different teams—he stayed in California while I went to Illinois—and when Dax faced the Philly Icecaps, Collin Ronson tried to assault him in the locker room after the game. So, when the Yetis got the chance to play the Icecaps, I made sure the team captain got what was coming for him, and I managed to make it look like a fucking accident.

“Helena has my number,” I say, lowering my voice to something more menacing. “She will call me if she has any trouble with her rent, or housing situation.”

The shithole manager nods emphatically and swallows hard. “Got it.”

“Do you? Because I swear to fuck, if I have to come out here because she owes you anything for at least a month, I’ll show you how excessive my force can be. Got it?”

He nods again and I let him go, the dumbass falling to the floor in a heap at my feet before I spin on my heel and stalk out of the lobby.

Helena doesn’t have my info but I’ll be keeping tabs on things. I can’t help it. Dax and I were raised by a single mother who busted her ass to provide for us, to make sure we went to school and hockey practice so we could have a real shot at making something of ourselves. I saw so much of my situation in theirs, it was hard for me to sit by and let this motherfucker take advantage of her.

I pull my keys from my pocket as I walk toward my van, my mood a little too sour for my liking, and that’s exactly why I decide to take a little drive to a nicer part of L.A.

To a parking space across the street from a swanky ass apartment building, to be more specific.

I throw my van in park, roll down the window, and cut the engine just as my omega walks through the front lobby, the cute little girl with dirty blonde curls right on his heels.

Watching them interact makes me smile.

They go back and forth like they’ve known each other forever, like they’re actually family and not just nanny and client, and I’ve gotten a kick out of it ever since he started working for her.

I found him while I was trying to keep people from moving into my old apartment.

A potential new target for those fucked up alphas and when I went to stop him, his scent, the overwhelming fragrance of lemon cake hit me like a ton of bricks and I’ve been keeping tabs on him ever since.

When he got hired for this job, I was relieved.

It was a stable place to live, a roof over his head, food in his belly, somewhere safe and secure. And he seemed to like it from the very beginning.

He still seems to like it.

Always laughing and smiling, playing with the little girl. Going for walks, running around the park. It’s cute to watch them together, and that means there’s a lot of job security in this for him.

I might not be a huge fan of my omega working for a single person, but if it means he’s safe and in a place I can find him, I’ll deal with it.

Then I frown.

Is that a suitcase?

It is. It’s a goddamn suitcase and I can only hope it’s⁠—

“I’ve never been on a train before!” The little girl squeals as she hoists the straps of her backpack higher. “It’s going to be so super fun!”

My omega nods as he laughs. “Super fun, huh?”

“Yep! I’m almost as excited to see Daddy as I am to ride the train!”

I clench my jaw and my ears start to ring, anger simmering in my veins as they finish loading the car and get inside.

So help me, if that little girl isn’t the only one under the roof of the penthouse using the term daddy, I will blow a fucking gasket.