Page 20

Chapter 19

Kobe

The voices outside my door grate on me like nails scraping a chalkboard. My muscles, my joins, my skin…they all react with such overblown sensitivity I can’t believe I managed to get any sleep. Even the sheet underneath me is uncomfortable to a barely tolerable degree.

I turn around slowly and hold my hand over my face, taking inventory of how close to death I feel. The maddening scent of Jasper finally seems to be gone. When I tried to fall asleep, it felt like I would never be rid of it. No matter how long I stayed in the shower, letting the cold water run over me to the point of risking hypothermia, I couldn’t make it go away. Now, it’s only a lingering tinge at the back of my nose that I can deal with. My heart no longer palpitates, either.

The horrible headache is a different story…

A knock on the door sends shards tumbling through my skull. It takes my brain far too long to connect what that painful sound means, and I barely grab the blanket and pull it over my bottom half as I lay there naked and spread out like a starfish in time before Marci walks in.

All night, I’ve been so damn hot I couldn’t sleep with a much as a blanket touching me. The bed’s drenched in my sweat either way. I might need a new mattress.

“I’ve already seen it all, darling,” she whispers lightly, smirking as she comes in with a glass of water and some pills in her hands.

I wish I had the energy to even chuckle at that. I still want her to know I appreciate her, so I move my head to flash her a thankful smile.

Marci puts the stuff on my side table. I hate seeing her face locked into that worried expression. All I told her when I stumbled home was that it was an omega issue . It’s better for her to not know the full extent. Thankfully, Marci asked for no more information, probably because she knows she couldn’t really understand it fully even if she had. She’s still been checking in on me throughout the night, unfortunately for me, because every little sound would wake me up.

“I’ll get him ready for school. Hannah isn’t available today, remember? But don’t,” she says quickly, noticing me jerk as I realize that’s today of all fucking days, “don’t worry! I’ve got it. So just rest, alright?”

Before I can thank her, Marci slips out of the room. As much as I want to hug her, I relish in the silence and complete darkness that returns.

I force myself to turn and wash down the pills. One is for my head, another is a suppressant that should hopefully dampen the effect of this situation . I fight with the urge to throw up again, as I have been doing since I came home, and lie back down.

My body is split in opposite directions—a part of me wants to sleep until the world ends, and the other is too restless to let me relax for a second. Hoping I will get some much needed shuteye once the medicine kicks in, I reach for my phone. I need to make sure the message from Jasper that woke me up at five in the morning telling me to take the next two days off wasn’t a dream.

It wasn’t. The text is nothing more than that. No apology. Of course, it would be foolish of me to expect one.

Remembering Jasper’s face as he stood above me sends shivers down my back, so I shake my head to ward off those memories. It scares me how weak and pathetic I felt. The power he had over me was the kind of power no man should have over another.

I always knew Jasper was dangerous, but yesterday showcased the terrifying extent of it. If Solomon Zane was anything, he was smart and cautious.

Though, I suppose, not smart enough to see what was coming…

Now, the future is even darker and more unsteady. God only knows what Jasper will do now that no one can hold him back.

I blink in confusion when I see there’s another new message I didn’t notice before. Not very surprising, considering I was pretty delirious. This one’s from Apollo, sent at about five in the morning, a few hours ago.

Hydrate. Don’t move much. Light foods. Get better.

Also, PLEASE call an ambulance if you feel a metallic taste in your mouth.

A wave of concern passes over me at that ominous message, but upon clicking my tongue against the roof of my mouth and swirling it around, I’m confident that I won’t need the ambulance. Lowering my unfocused gaze, I conjure up the fuzzy memories of Apollo coming to my rescue. I hardly believe I somehow made it to that car. For most of the way there, I thought I might just pass out on the street.

And then he appeared like an angel. Telling me what was happening to my body and making sure I was better.

My eyes no longer feel like they will bleed from looking at my phone, even on the lowest brightness, so I rest against the headboard and go online. I search for the word I think Apollo used, getting various results. I’ve never heard of Acute Pheromone Overexposure and neither did the many, many posters asking the questions on forums I scroll by. While it seems pretty uncommon, I gather it’s a sort of thing that many omegas have at the back of their minds as the worst that can happen to them.

No wonder I had no idea about it. I never grew up around venusfolk, after all. Mom never cared to make sure I had people like me in my life, and because betas most often keep to betas, that was who surrounded me as well.

The guy who knocked her up must’ve been a venus, probably an alpha. That’s as far as we ever got on that. I learned the same things the beta kids at school did and had to figure the rest out myself. Marci always tried to help, but not having any solid role models I could ask personal questions growing up definitely left me with some gaps in knowledge.

I find some scientific articles, but those are too complex for my current state of mind. I skip past the drivel of data in an attempt to find the most important information.

‘Use of suppressants is discouraged while recovering as they might interfere with the body’s natural ability to self-regulate and—’

I stop reading and nervously glance to the side. I’m sure the ones I had will be fine.

‘The overexposure can be fatal in certain rare cases.’

By some miracle, I’m still alive.

‘Likely to trigger heat, or heat-like symptoms.’

Crap. Groaning in frustration, I rest my head back against the wall. Heat is the last thing I need right now. I already feel so out of it I can’t even tell if I’m feeling the symptoms of it or just the aftermath of what Jasper did to me.

I try to find out how long I’m going to feel this way, and most places state a couple of days, depending on the severity and length of overexposure. So, the two days Jasper graciously allowed me will have to do.

Finally, as I mindlessly scroll, my eyes get heavy and I realize I’m not really processing any of the words on the screen, so I put the phone aside and lay back down.

I wake up again drenched in cold sweat but somewhat rested. My head doesn’t hurt as much. Small victories.

After carefully moving the blinds, I discover that it’s already dark outside. I grab my phone in horror to realize I slept almost the entire day. There are no sounds coming from beyond my room, and the time itself would confirm that Marci is probably out with Skyler, either picking him up from school or doing something nice after.

Skyler. I didn’t even talk to him. He must be worried about me. I need to get my shit together.

Somehow, I force myself into the shower. Marci must’ve come in at some point while I was asleep and got me some more medication and water, because they’re on my nightstand.

I take the pills for my headache but leave the suppressants. The online article said I should avoid them, so I better be safe. The reasonable thing would be to go to a doctor and get checked, but I never was a reasonable kind of guy.

Moving around isn’t as arduous anymore. The strength in my muscles has gone down to about twenty percent, my bones feel brittle, and if I had to walk up the stairs, I’d probably pass out, but it’s finally starting to feel like my body is mine again. While putting on clothes is uncomfortable, I can handle it. I even manage to change my sheets so that I don’t have to lie in my own filth and get a cold on top of everything.

Actually ingesting something seems a tall order, but I force myself to go to the kitchen and at least have a piece of toast. The mere idea of anything else makes me want to hurl.

I run my hands through my hair, still wet from the shower, and search for the bread. Skyler always leaves stuff in the most bizarre locations. Makes it a little fun game to find whatever one needs half the time.

A knock on the door startles me.

My mind must still be messed up, because Jasper is the first person who pops into my head.

Had he come to finish me? No. No, that's not it.

Apollo appears right after, but I think he’d message beforehand. With hesitancy, I step toward the door and peer through the peephole.

Two people wait outside. A man and a woman. They both wear sleek trench coats, with dress shirts underneath. Something inside me responds in fear and uncertainty, whether it’s my gut or paranoia. Their put-together and professional visage definitely makes them look like detectives, but they could also be just trying to sell me some crap.

I try to sneak away, making them think I’m not home—since I didn’t turn on any lights to spare my sensitive eyes—but as I’m turning, I bump into the shoe rack next to the door and let out a sharp yelp. If they didn’t hear that, they heard the shoes hitting the wall right after. Dammit! I should’ve stayed in bed.

Another knock.

Sighing, I lean in to check again. Instead of their faces, I see their badges.

Federal agents? Fuck me. This is bad.

“I’m Agent Evans and this is Agent Colton. We’re here to ask a few questions, Mr. Saber.”

My stomach feels like a wet rag someone is trying to squeeze dry. I’ve never been worried about the police. Not as much as I should. After all, I’m only a driver. But that’s just been another way for me to ignore the truth. Criminals get caught eventually, and they pay for their crimes. I’ve done enough things to be considered one in the eyes of the law.

But federal investigators? That’s bigger. Worse.

They know I’m here, so I release the lock, but leave the latch on. That way, they at least can’t push in.

Peeking at them through the gap, I inspect their badges. Like you have any damn idea what a real badge should look like. “Um, what’s this about?” I ask with hesitation while gripping the door, itching to slam it shut.

The woman leans closer, her expression serious. “We have a few questions about the recent fire on 12 Fernhill Road. The neighbors claim they saw a car leaving the area near the time of the accident, and we have matched it to one you drive.”

I try my best to not show panic, but sweat already trails down between my shoulder blades. They can’t know. There were no neighbors. I parked at the back and…

A scent touching my nose completely derails my train of thought. I blink, staring at the woman. She’s an alpha. Her pheromones are faint—she’s not even releasing them on purpose, I don’t think—but they do smell of peaches, almost like peach iced tea.

My entire body tenses up. I can’t control it. I can’t think about anything else besides the fact that if she wanted to, she could bring me to heel right now. I’m already cracked, my psyche weak and tired from what happened. One deliberate wave of her pheromones and she could get me to confess everything. That knowledge upturns my stomach, and I barely suppress the urge to throw up.

“I…I’m really not feeling too good. Would you mind coming around another time?”

She makes the kind of expression that clearly says ‘damn, he really doesn’t look well’ and shares a glance with her partner, who gives a nearly indistinguishable headshake in a response.

I’m not getting out of this, am I?

“We will be brief, sir,” the man says, keeping that professional tone still, but there’s the slightest amount of pressure behind his words. “We only have a few clarifying questions, nothing more.”

Gulping, I dart my eyes to the floor. I could easily say no. They have no right to just barge into my home without a warrant, or with this little evidence. I could demand a lawyer, and they would be obligated to abide by that request. But…the paranoia brews inside my head. It bubbles like water itching to boil.

Wouldn’t it be suspicious if I sent them away? Why would a regular, innocent citizen refuse to have a brief talk if they had nothing to hide?

‘If you refuse, they’ll know you’re guilty’, a panicked voice in my mind screams. I’m not in the right headspace for this. I know that. And yet…

“Alright,” I mutter, stepping to the side.

After undoing the latch, I hesitantly allow them to enter. With those polite smiles, they both step past me, glancing around with curiosity briefly before they walk into the living room area. I motion for them to sit down on the couch and then lean against the recliner to the side, folding my arms over my chest. Partially to hide my trembling hands. Partially to let them know that this is all the hospitality they’re going to get.

“Let us get to the point. Were you in the vicinity of the scene of the crime at roughly 10 PM that night?” the woman asks, resting her hands pressed together in her lap.

“Suppose I was in the area,” I say, successfully keeping my voice firm. “I didn’t even hear about it until I got home. I’m…I’m a driver. I take clients where they need to go. I’m sure I’ve been ‘near’ plenty of crimes in the city cuz I drive around plenty of places in a day.” My tone might verge on combative, but they can’t just expect me to admit to it. Even when I’m like this, they won’t get it that easily.

The two share a glance again. “I see,” the woman, Agent Evans, says.

“So you were in the area? Have you noticed any suspicious activity?” Agent Colton asks.

I raise my brows, acting clueless. “Suspicious as in…?”

“It was a large fire, with many victims. The act would seem deliberate, so I’d say a larger group were involved.”

I take a slow, controlled breath. “I’m sorry. When I drive, I’m the sort of person to just focus on the road and the destination. I don’t look around much or study the scenery. I’m afraid it was a long day, so even if I was looking, I probably wouldn’t remember. There are plenty of other people who were in the area that you can ask, I’m sure.”

There’s a slight smirk on the woman’s face. Like she knows I’m lying. “Mr. Saber,” she says, pausing with a sigh, “let us be candid with each other. We know what you do, and we know who you work for.” Crossing one leg over the other, she gives me a look of total acceptance.

I fix my expression to be unmoving and neutral, even if my heart pounds inside my chest like a church bell.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Agent Colton chuckles bitterly. “You work as a driver for the known gang leader by the name of Jasper Zane. You are free to deny that, but it doesn’t change the facts.”

My throat keeps closing on itself. “If this is what you believe about me,” I suggest sheepishly, “then why am I not being arrested right now?”

Agent Evans smiles. For a moment, I’m not afraid of what she is and the power she holds. For a moment, she looks just like any normal woman, with clear tan skin and bleached hair elegantly pulled back into a bun.

“As I said, let’s be honest with one another. Our higher ups don’t think this is a wise idea, but the two of us believe there’s an opportunity to make everyone happy. We’ve been monitoring Zane for years. With his father in charge, there wasn’t much we could do. Solomon Zane was very smart about which powerful, influential individuals he’s kept in his pocket. Police in this city have long been corrupt, and they too will be dealt with in due time. What’s most important is that now that Solomon Zane is out of the way, we know that Jasper Zane will act without impunity. He is going to escalate. There will be more chaos, more violence, and more people that suffer under his leadership .”

The extent of what they are aware of and freely tell me puts a new fear into me. This isn’t some little investigation. This is in full swing. They must have things on me, too.

The world spins. This apartment, the life I have, my family…it all buzzes around my head in the form of incoherent, flashing images as it’s threatened to be snuffed out. My life will be over. Skyler and Marci will end up alone.

“Why are you telling me all this?” I ask in a choked up, tense voice. Digging my fingers into my biceps as I have them crossed is all that’s keeping my breath steady.

The male agent leans toward me, his expression serious and brows furrowed. “We have an informant in the organization, but no one nearly close enough to the core to provide any useful information.”

No. Nope. No fucking way.

I shake my head. I know what they’re going to ask and there is no way I could even consider that.

He pauses, glancing at the woman. She takes over.

“Listen to me,” she says, and her firm tone pulls me in. Keeping my lips in a thin line to hide the slight quiver, I meet her determined green eyes. “You’re the only person in Jasper’s inner circle who doesn’t have any criminal record. Somehow, you’re not like the rest of them. And not just because you’re an omega, or because you’ve avoided punishment.” She lowers her voice. “We noticed that. I can see it right now,” she says, studying me firmly.

This is wrong. This is all wrong. She has no idea what she’s talking about.

“All the others who surround Jasper Zane are criminals. We know their names, their stories, their records. You are a child of a broken woman, who’s serving time for her crimes, partially thanks to you. You care for your little brother and for your mother’s childhood friend. Besides some disciplinary actions in school, which would be more than understandable considering your circumstances, you are by all accounts a decent person. We know you got into this by working for Carlos Wilson, and we know that you were handed over to the Zanes when Wilson retired. You care deeply about your family, Kobe. That much is clear. Think about what could happen to them if you died on the job, or if you went to prison. If you keep living this life. Being lucky and being decent can only get you so far…”

I want her to stop talking and disappear. Closing my eyes briefly, I desperately order my brain to ignore her words, but they are too heavy and important to just let go.

This had to come eventually, right? Criminals get caught. That’s the truth of life.

“If you cooperate with us, we will guarantee you protection. For you and your family. You’d be given a new name, a new life, and so would they. You could start over and right every wrong you might have committed in your time. I’ve done this for a while, and I can tell by looking into someone’s eyes when they’re a good person at heart.”

I draw my brows together, suppressing a bitter snort. Who does she think she is? A main character of some crime drama? “I doubt that,” I mutter, glancing back at her.

Those ghosts haunting my conscience would disagree. The man I killed with my own two hands would, too. I’m not innocent, and I can never be innocent. This must be just her way of softening me up. She’s playing the good cop, clearly.

Her chuckle surprises me. Tilting her head, Agent Evans has a surprisingly soft expression. “There’s guilt all over your face, Mr. Saber. That’s something we hardly get to see in evil men. In people who are beyond redemption.”

I stare into space somewhere next to her, too paralyzed by fear and doubt and frustration to do or say anything. My entire body is growing hotter again. Like the stress of them coming here and springing all of this on me undid all the recovery I managed in my sleep, I feel on the verge of passing out.

My silence must be more than a confirmation for them, even if they already know all there is to know. But what is there to say?

The agent claps her hands together with a sigh, indicating to her partner they are done. They both stand up, startling me a little. “Anyway, we promised it would be quick, so we should get going. I will leave this card here,” she says, placing the white business card with names and phone numbers on the coffee table in front of her. “I ask you to think about what we said. Consider the proposition. And if you have questions, don’t hesitate to contact either of us. We would be more than happy to find a middle ground and help each other. Please. Think about it.”

I stare at the card. If someone followed them or saw them come in—hell, even if someone saw this card alone—I could get carved like a pig for that. Swallowing hard, I nod, acknowledging it without blinking or moving in any other way.

“Thank you for your time,” Agent Colton says, stepping around the couch to head for the door. I hold my breath, counting the second until they’re both gone, when the woman pauses on as she passes me.

“You really don’t look too good, Mr. Saber. It might be your heat playing up with your hormones. I’d take some medication and get some proper rest if I were you.”

A hint of care in an otherwise professional tone takes me aback. She seems genuine in her concern. With a nod, I flash her a thankful smile before she turns and heads for the door.

I can’t believe they’re actually gone even when it shuts behind them. The silence in the apartment after they leave makes my knees buckle. With a loud, exhausted exhale, I collapse into the recliner and finally let out that panicked whimper I’ve held in the entire time.

“Fuck,” I whisper, rubbing my eyes. Tears push in, and so comes the trembling in my hands. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…”

The card stares at me from the table, its pristine whiteness almost radiating.

What the ever loving fuck am I supposed to do now?