The Night Movers - Season 1 - Ep. 16 (Patreon)

Unedited/Unbeta'd/Uneverything'd. I'm posting another chapter right behind this one.

“No!” Ridley shouted. “No, no, no, no, no, no!” 

A tiny explosion had his whole body sagging and then whining in disappointment. Diesel gave a triumphant cry, smirking when he saw Ridley glowering at him. He sighed, dropping the handheld gaming device onto the bed beside him, then stretching until his joints popped. 

Diesel used the opportunity to dig his fingers into Ridley’s armpits, making him squeal then wiggle around until his head accidentally made contact with the alpha’s dick, causing him to hiss in pain. 

“Serves you right,” Ridley said, then stuck his tongue out. 

Diesel snorted through a grimace, but just tweaked Ridley’s nose. The alpha sat half-reclined on his bed, back against a pile of pillows. He wore only a pair of loose fitting black pants, his little tummy visible if Ridley just turned his head slightly. 

Ridley had made a bed out of Diesel’s belly, the back of his head resting just above the alpha’s hip. He stretched out sideways, his legs propped up on the wall, crossed at the ankles. He wore one of Diesel’s hoodies and a pair of thick wool socks. He hadn’t bothered with underwear. It just got in the way. 

The last two days had consisted of nothing but eating, sleeping, fucking and, now, playing video games. They’d been holed up alone in Diesel’s room for the last forty-eight hours or so while Ridley rode out his heat cycle. The others—except Titus—had taken turns bringing them food, but otherwise had stayed away. Ridley tried to pretend he didn’t mind, but he felt a little like a pariah. Diesel seemed to enjoy hanging out with Ridley, but part of him couldn’t help but wonder if the alpha had just somehow drawn the short straw. 

It didn’t feel that way when Diesel was buried inside him, whispering filth into his ear about putting a baby in him, but he was quickly learning that Diesel took all things in stride. The alpha seemed stuck in laid back mode. It was probably easier to be chill about everything when you sat at the top of the food chain versus hovering at rock bottom.

Today was the first day that Ridley hadn’t woken up sweating and panting, begging Diesel to use him. When Ridley had woken up to find Diesel next to him reading some kind of glossy car magazine, he thought he was waiting to kick him out, send him back to his own room. Instead, he’d just gotten excited that he was awake and then handed him an aqua colored gaming device, one that looked exactly like his own.

 Ridley had never used any video game before. Arcades were dangerous for omegas and Ridley couldn’t afford that kind of thing for his house. That kind of tech was for rich people. Yet, Diesel had two. What had Ridley gotten himself into with these men? 

“Wanna go again?” 

Ridley startled. The alpha couldn’t be horny again already. “What?” 

Diesel held up the hot pink device in his hands. “The game, strawberry. Another round?” 

“Oh,” Ridley said, letting out a heavy breath that had Diesel snorting. 

“Wow. You’ve been hanging off my knot for days but now you look like I asked if you wanted to play Russian roulette. Damn, that’s cold, princess.” 

Ridley shivered at the silly nickname. It had irritated him at first, but now it stoked something within him. Now that he’d heard Diesel moaning it into his ear, it only served to turn him on, at least when said in the alpha’s low rasp. 

“Shut up,” Ridley muttered, turning his head to the side to look at Diesel’s pretty brown eyes. “You know I’m just sore.” 

“I know,” Diesel said, combing his fingers through Ridley’s red locks. 

Ridley let him pet him but his mind was racing. “Why do you have two of these things,” he asked, gesturing absently to the device now sitting beside him. 

“I didn’t. I had Steele buy one when he went to the market last night. I wanted you to be able to play with me. I figured your heat would be lifting today.” 

Something warm pooled in Ridley’s chest. “You did?” 

“Mm,” Diesel said. “Your scent changed.” 

Ridley shook his head. “No, the game. You had Steele buy it for me?” 

“Yeah? Is that weird?” 

Ridley turned to look at the alpha’s face. “Aren’t they expensive?” 

Diesel’s low chuckle had his belly shifting, making Ridley’s head bob. “You really don’t know who we are, do you, princess?” 

Ridley frowned. He didn’t know them. Not really. He was now mated to Titus and claimed by the entire pack but he knew next to nothing about any of them. To be fair, today was the first day he’d felt clear-headed enough to even contemplate his circumstances since the night his life had collided with theirs. “So, tell me.” 

Diesel gave him a soft smile. “What do you want to know?” 

“Am I a hostage,” Ridley blurted, then flushed. 

That wasn’t what he’d meant to ask. Luckily, Diesel just laughed softly. 

“No, strawberry. But there are rules.” When Ridley snapped his gaze to Diesel’s, the alpha sighed, then ran his finger down Ridley’s cheek. “For all of us. Not just you.” 

“Oh.” 

Ridley snagged Diesel’s hand from his face, taking it between his own to play absently with the alpha’s fingers. He had large hands. Wide. Like…bear paws. When Ridley held his palm to Diesel’s, it was dwarfed, like a child’s. Ridley had always admired people who had elegant hands. Graceful bones, long, tapered fingers. It had always screamed money, refinement. He’d always thought of them as artist’s hands. Which was kind of silly, but it was always the first thing that popped into his head. 

Diesel’s hands were…anything but. His hands, like his arms and chest and legs—his everything really—were covered in ink. Each finger held something different. The skin beneath his first knuckle showed a wrench, a crude silhouette of a wolf’s head, a checkered flag, and what looked like a boxing glove. Below the second knuckle were letters. F-A-S-T.

It was clear Diesel loved cars…and racing and it showed on his hands. Not just the tattoos—there was a speedometer tattooed on the back of his right hand—but his nails were painfully short and a permanent black ring stained his cuticles. Motor oil, probably. His palms and fingers were dry and rough, like sandpaper, cracked in some places. They looked awful, but when they glided along Ridley’s naked body they left goosebumps in their wake. 

“What do you do for them?” Ridley asked. 

“My hands?” Diesel asked, confused. 

This time it was Ridley who snorted. “No, it’s clear to see you do nothing for these.” he said, shaking the hand he held. “You really need a moisturizer before your skin turns to dust,” Ridley chastised. “But I mean for Titus, for the gang…the crew…the pack? Like…what do you do? What do any of you do? How can you afford to do what you do? How can you afford all of this?” He held up the game again. 

Diesel shrugged. “The pack makes money in a lot of ways. Street racing. Fight clubs. Personally, I’m a mechanic. I’m the mechanic. I keep our cars in top form. Well, Jensen and I. He uses his egghead skills to tune the engines, and I build them. We make money off the bets. Off the events.” 

“Street racing?” Ridley echoed, turning the idea over in his head. 

Diesel nodded. “Mm. Your new mate is the top racer on the circuit. People come from all around trying to beat Titus. They never do. Yet they just keep trying.” 

Ridley made a face at the mention of Titus. He was still brooding apparently. Devastated over having accidentally claimed Ridley or whatever. Diesel laughed when he saw the face Ridley pulled. 

“Don’t be too hard on him, princess. Titus has a…complicated history with omegas. He’s the only reason the night movers even exist. Without him, we couldn’t rescue as many people as we do.” 

“The night movers?” 

Diesel nodded. “It’s an underground network created —in large part—by Titus. A way to smuggle omegas out of bad situations and get them to sanctuary cities where they are safe to live their lives how they want.” 

Ridley frowned, asking the question he’d wanted to know from the beginning. “No offense, but why would a bunch of alphas give a shit about how omegas are treated? Guilt?” 

Diesel’s bright expression darkened, black clouds rolling across a blue sky. “In a way, yes? We all have our reasons for doing what we do. It’s not my place to tell other people’s stories. But not every alpha wants to subjugate an omega.” 

Ridley’s stomach soured. He resisted the urge to ask if he was sure about that. Instead, he said, “Yet you exist in a world that only sees us as commodities. How do you get away with saving so many omegas right under their noses? How has nobody caught on to what you’re really doing? Especially the New Guard?” 

Ridley’s lip curled at the mention of the corrupt officials. The ones who were supposed to be upholding the law, not breaking it. 

“It’s not a pretty story,” Diesel said hesitantly. 

“When is it ever?” Ridley countered. “A never believed in fairy tales. The world sucks.” 

Diesel scoffed. “You look like an angel but you’re one of the most cynical people I’ve ever met.” 

Ridley rolled his eyes. “Show me an optimistic omega and I’ll show you a crazy person. The only bright side to living every day as prey is that we get really good at spotting the predators. Now explain to me what I’ve gotten myself into.” 

Diesel sighed. “You’re so pushy.” When Ridley just stared at him, unblinking, Diesel rolled his eyes in return. “Fine, we run the races and the fight clubs. People pay to watch and pay to play. It’s high stakes but it makes us a lot of money. It not only funds keeping the network alive, but keeps the other packs from getting suspicious about the omegas we ‘purchase’” 

“And the others in the pack? What do they do?” 

“Sugar and Steele fight. And they win. Ryker is our medic. He’s also our…diplomat.” 

Ridley raised his brows at that. “Diplomat?” 

“He keeps things running smoothly between us and the other packs.” 

“Other packs of criminals?” Ridley clarified. 

Diesel laughed. “Yeah, princess. Criminals. We can’t buy every omega. We’ve tried to…eliminate our competitors, but there’s always another crew waiting to take their place. Trafficking omegas is a good business. These guys come in, snatch omegas off the street or…acquire them through other…sketchy means. Then they sell them to the brothels, the breeding farms.”

A slow throb of anger formed in Ridley’s core. How many people had the New Guard snatched from the center? How many were just taken right off the streets? How many people were out there silently collecting omegas to sell to these monsters? 

“I get these shitheads trafficking omegas into brothels and breeding farms, but…what is it they think you guys do with the omegas you buy? You had Jensen delete them out of existence. But surely someone has noticed that none of your omegas reach a breeding farm or brothel?” Ridley said. “Right?” 

Diesel heaved a sigh. “We’re not known for stocking breeders and whore houses.” 

Ridley’s insides suddenly felt slippery. “Okay? So what are you known for?” 

That uneasy feeling intensified when Diesel said, “Before I tell you, you have to understand its the only way for us to justify why the omegas we purchase disappear.” 

 “Just tell me.” 

“We run red rooms,” Diesel said. 

“I’m sorry?” Ridley said, brows knitting together. “What’s a red room?” 

“It’s an underground website that appears and disappears on the darknet. Alpha’s pay a lot of money to…torture and kill omegas…for fun.” 

“You let alphas…murder omegas on camera?” Ridley said, suddenly feeling lightheaded at the idea of it. 

“Of course, not. It’s all staged. We don’t even have to do it that often. Most people think we deal with…private clients who want to host parties…without cameras.” 

“You stage shows where you pretend to torture and kill helpless omegas? You guys make…torture porn.” 

“No, we fake torture porn,” Diesel corrected. “Fake. We would never let an omega get hurt.” 

“So they don’t look for the omegas because they think they’re dead,” Ridley clarified. 

“Yes.” 

“And…the bodies?” 

Diesel closed his eyes for a long moment. “We have a reputation for…creatively disposing of the victims. It’s part of the…service.” 

“Wow. How…thorough of you,” Ridley muttered. 

“I would like to use now to take the opportunity to remind you that we do not in fact torture and kill omegas. Remember? We rescue them. Rescued you, in fact. But we need to exist in this world, we need to act as though we’re just as bad as they are, if we look weak, this doesn’t work. Being the good guy around here sometimes means getting real blood on your hands.” 

Ridley turned startled eyes to Diesel. “You just said you don’t kill anyone.” 

“No, I said we don’t kill omegas. We’re all killers, princess. All of us. Anyone who comes for us gets sent home in a body bag. Well, what’s left of them, anyway.” 

Ridley blinked rapidly, processing this information. “Do people…come for you a lot?” 

“Yes. We have a lot of power, money and influence in the night market. That’s always going to draw enemies. The moment we take you in public—the second anyone sees our marks on you—there will be a target on your back. Someone is going to try to hurt you, to take you from us. And the only way to ensure that doesn’t keep happening is to make sure the blood spilled in your name is so grotesque that they don’t dare mess with you again.” 

Ridley shivered. “I-Is that why you guys are keeping me locked up?” 

Diesel frowned. “We’re keeping you locked up because you’ve been in heat and we’re not crazy.” 

Ridley pulled a face. “Is that why they’ve all been avoiding me like I’m diseased?” he asked, hating how sulky he sounded. 

“Nobody’s avoiding you, strawberry. Okay, well, Titus is avoiding you, but he’s also working. Sugar and Steele too. The fights have to go on. We can’t have it look like anything has changed about us. Not yet. Not until your first appearance in public.” 

“I’m going to have an…appearance?” 

Diesel nodded. “We don’t have a choice. You’re Titus’s mate. You’ve been claimed by our whole pack. They’ve seen thousands of omegas pass through our hands for business, but never for pleasure. And they certainly won’t expect Titus, of all people, to be the one who chose an omega.” 

“Because he’s a douchebag?” Ridley mumbled. 

Diesel laughed loudly, his belly shaking once more. “Hah. No. Well, yeah, but we have a reputation for treating omegas like property, like product, nothing more. Arriving with one we…own…is gonna cause a scene.” 

“Oh. What’s it like?” Ridley asked. “The night market?” 

“It’s a shopping mall for criminals. A playground for the underworld. It’s a place where alphas get to live out their deepest, darkest, most debauched fantasies without consequence.” 

Ridley scoffed, words laced with bitterness. “How is that any different than topside?” 

“You’ll see soon enough, princess,” Diesel assured him. 

“Am I going to go out dressed like this?” Ridley asked, looking down at his hoodie. 

“Of course, not. Titus is a lot of things, but he’d never allow any omega of his to appear publicly in rags. The night market has their own…style.” 

“Even for omegas?” 

Diesel grinned. “Especially for omegas.” 

“Do…Do other packs have omegas?” Ridley finally asked. “Or will I be the only one?” 

“You’ll see other omegas. Most packs have one or two for…obvious reasons,” Diesel said carefully. 

Ridley gave him a flat look. “To fuck?” 

Diesel’s gaze suddenly slipped from Ridley’s. “There’s something you need to know.” 

Ridley’s stomach swooped like he was jumping from a high building. “Which is?” 

“You’re gonna see a lot of omegas being treated…poorly. Other gangs buy, sell and trade their omegas. At the night market they’re like cash or…pink slips. There are gangs who will use their omegas openly, punish them publicly, allow others to use them too. Most omegas you see underground will be…collared.” 

Ridley stared at him, his heart racing. “Collared? Like…dogs?” 

“And…possibly leashed.” 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Ridley asked, his ears so hot they felt blistered. 

Diesel shook his head, an unreadable look on his face. “No, and you’re gonna have to learn how to not react.” 

“You want me to not react when other omegas are being abused right in front of me?” Ridley repeated, that throbbing anger inside giving birth to full-blown rage. “You want me to sit there quietly as some fucking alpha humiliates and violates another omega while you all sit around and laugh?” 

“You have to.” 

“The fuck I do.” 

“There’s nothing you can do,” Diesel said, his disgust evident in his tone. “Well, not in any obvious way. Also, you’re only permitted to talk to other omegas in front of your alphas. Both alphas. They don’t want omegas plotting or banding together.” 

“This is such bullshit,” Ridley spat. 

Diesel gave him an anxious look. “Princess-” 

“Do not princess me right now, dickhead,” Ridley snapped, lightly punching his fist into Diesel’s stomach, making him grunt softly. “How can you say you’re not as bad as them if you just…ignore this sort of thing?” 

Diesel was shaking his head before Ridley even finished his sentence. “Nobody is ignoring anything. We try to barter for omegas suffering the most so we can get them out, but we have to be subtle. We’re the bad guys, princess. It’s the only way to do what we do.” 

“So…what? I’m supposed to follow along behind you guys with a collar around my neck, keeping my eyes to the floor like the meek little omega while you guys get to do whatever you want? Fuck that,” he seethed, lowering his feet and spinning so he could sit with his back to the wall, facing the alpha. 

“I’m not saying-” 

“I was fine with being your pack omega,” Ridley snapped, cutting him off. “Meeting your sexual needs and…whatever…but I am not gonna be your…slave.” 

Diesel arched a brow, voice still calm. “Not even to save your sister?”