Page 143 of Claiming the Pack's Omega

“Sure,” I say, sliding my hands into the pockets of my sweats.

“I’m sure you know what I’m going to ask,” Killian says.

“Yes,” I nod. “Nate Fisher. Find out who he is.”

Killian grips my shoulder and squeezes. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me, I would’ve done it even if you didn’t ask me.”

“Let me know what you find, alright?”

“Will do.”

This is what I’m good at. This is how I can help Reyna.

I’m no good at most of the things an omega would probably ask of her alphas. It’s a wonder I even presented as one, with how pathetic I feel most of the time.

But I can do this.

I can find out who the hell this Nate guy is and give that information to the rest of the pack. I may be physically weak, but that can’t be said about any of the other guys. Plus, there’ssomething to be said about how well connected we are. We have access to resources that a lot of people don’t. Might as well use them to protect our omega and right all the wrongs of her past.

The moment the door to my bedroom shuts behind me, I’m in my element. The only light comes from the glow of the monitor screens in front of me as I immerse myself in my work with a single-minded focus: find the piece of shit who dared to betray Reyna’s trust so he could violate her.

I set up one of the scripts I regularly use for background checks and enter in the name of Reyna’s ex-boyfriend. I have it run through as many databases I can think of. There are the open-access court records, the Southside school records that are pretty easy to access, and other systems that aren’t public, but that I can access pretty easily.

What can I say, spending nearly every waking moment learning about technology since I could comprehend it has its benefits. It wasn’t like I had anything remotely close to a social life to distract me.

My computer dings as the program starts to make a few hits.

Nate Fisher is a common enough name, so I have to sort through a couple middle-aged dads, and one old guy, but then I find something.

A yearbook photo.

A senior year, yearbook photo.

He’s got curly brown hair and a confident grin.

So this was the boy that Reyna fell in love with. If I were a teenage girl, maybe I would see the appeal, but I can’t see past what he did to Reyna. She gave him her love and hehurther.

If I were held at gunpoint and told the only way I could survive was to lay a single finger on her, I’d swallow that bullet with pride. It takes a certain kind of monster to do what he did to someone he supposedly loved.

I hate him.

I hate his stupid face. I hate his stupid jawline. I hate how he has that same stupid smirk as all of the guys who bullied me relentlessly.

I take a breath, my jaw clenching so hard it creaks.

I feel a sting at one of my cuticles. Shit, I guess I was picking at them again. There’s a bit of blood there, but I just wipe it away before turning back to my work.

Now I know what his face looks like. I can do a lot with that. You’d be surprised how effective facial recognition software has gotten these days.

A hit from the police records database pops up and my eyes go wide. It’s not what I expected. At all.

It’s a missing persons’ report. Two years after the incident at the park.

If anything, I expected to see a police report. I wouldn’t put it past a spineless douchebag like him to try and file something against Reyna’s old pimp, even if he was the one trying to rape Reyna. With a mind as twisted as his, it’s not out of the realm of possibility that he convinced himself he was just helping himself to what he deserved. I’ve seen that sort of attitude from alphas, when it comes to omegas they think are theirs, before.

But no, this is something different.