Page 41

Xavier

“You’re letting Della distract you from what’s important here.” Vincent starts the engine the second I slide into the passenger seat and slam my door shut.

I blow out a sigh and snap my seatbelt on. “I should’ve known there was a reason you dragged me out here in the middle of the night.”

Vincent pulls away from the house. “You don’t deny it.”

“No, I don’t deny it.”

“Aly would want justice.”

“Aly—” I pierce him with a stare, “—would not have wanted us to throw away ten years of our life. She would want us to be happy .”

Vincent is silent for a moment, but I know he’s thinking hard. Too hard, because he whispers, “She’s not ours, Xavier.”

“Who are you trying to convince? You or me?”

His fingers tighten around the steering wheel. “She’s going to leave. When all this is over and I’ve found the alphas who hurt her, she will leave us.”

Ah. The heart of the conversation.

Fear .

My brother is afraid to let himself believe we can have a future with her.

“So, we ask her to stay.”

He takes a breath and releases it. “You didn’t see her in the shower, Xavier. I keep wishing I could go back in time to when I caught her crawling out of my classroom and stop her from leaving the school.”

Guilt .

If there’s one thing my brother knows how to do and do well, it’s blame himself for not looking after the people he cares about.

“You have to stop beating yourself up about that. It won’t change anything.”

He takes a turn too fast, which is unusual for him. It's not like him to be so reckless.

“Hurting yourself won’t lessen her pain,” I tell him quietly. “You know that, right?”

He doesn’t respond.

“She would have left if she blamed us,” I say.

A red light halts us, and he turns to me, eyes burning with fury. “That doesn’t change the fact that it was my fault. Everything that happened—it's on me. If she had been at school, she would have been safe, but now... now it’s too late. I don’t even know how to begin to apologize for all of this.”

“She doesn’t blame you, brother. Levi said they talked. That she was glad it was her and not Mercy. She’s not angry with you, me, or Levi. You didn’t intend for what happened to her. She knows that.”

A glimmer of hope flickers across his face, but doubt clouds his eyes. “I want to believe you, but…”

He doesn’t know if he can.

“Believe.” Reaching over, I squeeze his shoulder until a jackass behind us honks his horn.

He shifts gears, and we continue now that the lights are green. “She looked like she was getting ready to kiss you back there.”

My brother hasn’t told me where we’re headed, but the route is familiar.

I grin at him. “Jealous, brother?”

“No,” he says quietly. “I just want her to be happy.”

Me too.

“With us, she will be. Now, want to tell me why we’re headed to Lucas Security in the middle of the night?”

“It’s ten thirty.” His voice is dry.

I scowl at him. “They won’t appreciate us turning up in the middle of the night to answer questions about a teacher’s plastic surgery.”

“Garrison knows we’re coming.”

“I take it you called him, told him you were on your way, and then hung up before he could tell you that now isn’t the time?”

Silence.

Shaking my head, I smile reluctantly at him. “I have no fucking idea how that always works for you. Me? I get doors slammed in my face or people just don’t answer.”

A smile, faint though it is, tugs at his lips as he pulls up to the Lucas Security front gate. “Being the most important man in the city helps to open doors.”

I’m rolling my eyes as he presses the intercom button.

And to no surprise ever, Garrison buzzes us right in.

There’s a smug edge to my brother’s smile as he pulls into the gates and up to the house.

Garrison stands in the doorway, his shirt untucked. Vincent shuts off the engine, and we get out of the car to walk toward him.

“It’s late.” He steps aside to let us in.

“It couldn’t wait,” Vincent says.

He gestures toward his office. “Let’s go to the office. You’re lucky it was movie night. Otherwise, we’d have all been asleep.”

“Movie night?” I ask. Then I hear it—the faint sound of a man yelling coming from behind a closed door on my left.

Garrison’s lip quirks. “Resa learned about the weekly movie night tradition Everleigh has with her pack and decided she wanted the same.”

“We had one the other day. What are you watching?” Vincent asks.

“ 28 Days Later . Deadly virus wipes out everyone,” Garrison says, shaking his head. “And before you ask, it was Resa’s choice. You?”

“ John Wick .” I grin. “Della’s choice, and a damn good one.”

Even Vincent is nodding in agreement, and I can’t remember the last time he sat down long enough to watch a TV show, let alone a movie.

Della fell asleep toward the end, so we covered her with a blanket and continued watching. We’re all looking forward to the sequels with popcorn, candy, and a couch that’s more comfortable than the one we have.

Garrison makes a face. “I’ve seen it and I’m not recommending it to Resa.” He looks at Vince. “You’re enemy number one around here. She’ll be stabbing you in the neck with a pencil before the week is over.” In the office, he closes the door behind us. “You said you needed information.”

“Everything you can find about Ms. Huffman. She’s the wellness instructor at Haven Academy,” Vincent says as I take in the now-empty whiteboard.

They must be taking a break before starting their next case.

“ Wellness instructor ?” Garrison frowns.

“Fancy name for a PE teacher,” I explain.

Garrison’s confusion clears. “You think she was involved in Della’s abduction?”

Vincent has information about the men who took her. We have a lead. A big one. When the time is right, we’ll act on it.

“Not that. Something else.” He hesitates, and I wait for my brother to lie and keep secrets, two things he excels at. “We lost someone important years ago.”

I swear my heart stops beating. I clutch it to make sure.

Vincent glares at me. “There’s no need to stagger around like that. I’m not that closemouthed.”

I grin at him as I drop my hand and stop pretending I’m two seconds from collapsing on Garrison’s table. “You say that like I don’t know you.”

Shaking his head, Vincent turns back to Garrison. “Our omega. Aly. Alyson Russ. That’s who we lost. Someone killed her.”

Garrison swears under his breath, his brow furrowed in sympathy. “Shit. I can’t even imagine…”

An alpha’s omega is everything. Irreplaceable. Unforgettable. Losing her felt like someone had reached into my chest and cut out my heart. It changed all of us.

“That was a lifetime ago,” Vince says. “We want closure so we can all move on.”

With Della. It’s time to let go of the past and embrace a future none of us imagined we’d ever have.

“And Ms. Huffman might have had something to do with it?” Garrison asks.

“There have been omega murders in the area for the last ten years. That’s how we narrowed the search to the school. We checked the teacher’s records, and there was no indication that she was married, so her name might be different,” Vincent says.

Garrison takes out a notebook and jots down some notes. "Is there anything more you can share with me? Names are helpful.”

When Vincent glances at me, I give Garrison a brief rundown of the limo that passed through our small town on the day Aly went missing, along with our belief that there may have been more than just a wealthy couple in the vehicle.

Vincent takes over. “We found out that the husband, Lincoln Bradshaw, had died in a car accident. He was a drunk. His socialite wife vanished to Paris, and we were never able to track her down. If Ms. Huffman hid her previous marriage, what else could she be lying about?”

Garrison nods. “Blaine’s our skip tracer, but he’s not going to want to leave Resa now, so don’t ask.”

“I can wait a day,” Vincent says.

“You could have called and told me this on the phone.”

“I could have,” Vince agrees with a hesitancy that makes me look at my brother curiously. “You pull people out of situations that leave scars.”

Garrison drops his notebook on the table and walks over to the filing cabinet. After riffling through the contents of the top drawer for several seconds, he returns with a business card and hands it to Vincent.

“Dr. Kira Phillips. One of the best trauma and PTSD psychiatrists in the country. I’ll let her know I’ve given you her card, and she’ll make time to speak to Della.”

Vincent tucks it into his pocket. “Thanks.”

“Losing an omega leaves scars,” Garrison says quietly. “You might want to take advantage of talking to someone yourself.”

“Those scars have scabbed over, and I’m not looking to cut them open. This is about Della. I want to help her, but I don’t know if this is something I can help her with.” He turns to leave. “Thanks for making time, and I’m sorry to have taken you away from your movie night.”

“I can handle a lot, but zombies?” Garrison says with a shudder as he walks us out. “Your call couldn’t have come at a better time. I’ll call tomorrow once Blaine’s had time to work his magic.”

Back home, the TV is on in the living room at a low volume. I move in that direction while Vincent shuts the door behind me.

Levi turns off the TV and lifts a finger to his lips, a sign to be quiet.

Della is sleeping on the couch with her head resting on his lap. A blanket covers her.

Moving carefully, Levi shifts her head to a cushion on the couch, waits a moment to ensure she’s still asleep, and we all walk into the kitchen, closing the door so our conversation won’t wake her.

“What did you find?” Levi sits on a stool at the kitchen island.

Vince leans against the counter with his arms crossed. "Maybe nothing. Maybe something massive." He adds, "We need to get back into the school.”

Levi frowns. “Why? You think Ms. Huffman is the killer?”

I shrug. "I don't know yet. Garrison will update us tomorrow.”

Levi scrubs a hand over his face. “So, she’s the one who tried to roast me alive in the sauna?”

“Maybe not her,” Vince says. “But she was married before and might have had a whole life before teaching—a life none of us knew about.”

Levi asks him, “So, how do we confirm that?”

“Blaine is doing a background check on her. A detailed one,” Vince emphasizes when it looks like Levi is about to speak.

“And the end-of-year ball is in a couple of days.” I yawn, tired. “Makes it the perfect night to corner her while everyone is distracted and get some answers directly from her.”

Levi glances at the closed kitchen door. “And Della?”

“She stays here where it’s safe. I’m not putting her in danger,” Vincent says firmly.

We all look at him.

“You have met her, right? There is no way that she’s going to want to sit this out. She’ll want to be involved,” I warn.

“So, we—” Vince jerks his head to the closed door at the sound of rustling fabric.

He walks across the room and pulls the door open. The entryway is empty. We look at each other. If it were anyone but Della, we’d go back to our conversation. By silent agreement, we head to the living room to check if she’s still sleeping.

Della is on the couch, her auburn hair brushing against her cheek, one hand resting on the ground as she snores softly.

She’s beautiful. So beautiful that I was lying to myself when I said she wasn’t my type. She is exactly my type.

This house is a rental we’ve been staying in for the past few months. For the first time, this house feels like a home, and it’s all because of her. She makes it feel like a home.

We all watch her for a beat, then Vincent closes the door, and we return to the kitchen.

“We can’t let anything else happen to her,” I say quietly.

Vincent and Levi nod.

We’ll do whatever it takes to keep her safe.