Page 19 of Broken Bonds

I thank him for the address, hanging up and just staring at the numbers and letters scrawled on the torn slip of paper one of the guys handed me.

I don’t know what the hell I’m going to say to this omega when I meet her. She may completely lose it when she sees my face, the mirror image of my twin’s. She deserves to know, though.

I also desperately want to know about my brother’s life. I need to know that he was happy, that he had the love he always deserved and needed, but never truly believed it. It’s vital to me to know that he had a fulfilling life, despite how short it was cut by the hands of Fate.

“I saw a bar not far from here on the outskirts when we were coming through.Jinxor something. How about we go get a few drinks?” The sound of Forde’s deep, rumbling voice fills the air.

I agree, and we head out, leaving our belongings scattered about the rented room. My truck is parked in front of the door of the room we’re staying in on the ground floor, and I quickly unlock it and crank it up. It’s only a brief ten minute drive from where we’re staying toJinx, and when we arrive in the almost deserted parking lot, I begin to question if the establishment is open for business.

Until I see a blinking neonOPENsign in the window.

Must just be a slow night.

We hop out of the truck in an instant and move forward into the bar as a unit. I don’t know what it is, but when I walk through the doors, it feels like coming home, if that makes any sense. There’s a familiarity in the air that I can’t, for the life of me, explain.

There are a couple of pool tables to the right of the room when we walk in and an old school jukebox in the corner currently playing a Guns N’ Roses song. Front and center of the room is a long, gleaming oak bar with countless bottles of alcohol behind it. There are booths and tables and chairs to the left of the room and several big screen TVs line the wall as well, though the screens are black currently.

The woman behind the bar looks up as we take a seat, walking over to where we all are.

When she finds herself in front of me, a gasp of shock is released from her lungs. The cup that she was cleaning tumbles from her fingertips, the sound of shattering glass reaching my ears through the music. There are only a few patrons in the bar, but none turn at the racket.

Tears line the older woman’s eyes as she looks at me and reaches a small hand out to touch my cheek. I still, frozen to the stool I’m sitting on as she looks at me with trembling lips and teary eyes.

“Lake. Oh, dear gods. I know you’re not him, but damn it all to hell, you have my Lake’s face on yours. Who are you, little boy?” she asks demandingly, brown eyes narrowing on me.

My throat bobs as her hand leaves my cheek. This woman was important to my brother.

Her hair, a combination of gray and black, is long and loosely tied on the top of her head in a seemingly careless way. Despite being short and displaying beta characteristics, she is still quite intimidating. Her eyes, which are a soulful brown, reflect a deep compassion and love, yet they are filled with heartbreaking sadness at the moment. Her eyes and lips both carry the telltale signs of laughter, letting me know she’s smiled very often throughout her life. Her face is practically untouched by time, with only a few wrinkles present. She doesn’t appear to be any older than her fifties or sixties. Despite her age, she is still remarkably attractive.

What kind of significance did this woman hold in his life?

“I’m Link, ma’am. Lake was my twin brother.”

As we speak, I can sense Forde and Rion watching us intently, staying in place but not interfering, their presence providing me with strength and comfort. The woman stares at me with a look of surprise, before growling in frustration and slapping her open palm on the counter, bowing her head and exhaling a deep sigh of exasperation.

“Dammit all to hell, kid. Why the hell didn’t you tell me? Or Ramsey?” she mutters, almost brokenly.

It’s clear she’s talking to herself, but my curiosity about who she is becomes nearly overwhelming. This is someone who can tell me something about him. Someone who can fill in the gaps for me that I’ve missed all these years.

I clear my throat, shifting on the stool I’m sitting at.

“You knew my brother?” I ask her softly, searching her eyes and recognizing a lot of grief and hurt when I ask her that.

She glances back up at me, her eyes blinking as they track all over my face, from my forehead to my chin, soaking in all of my features. Her eyes soften the longer she looks at me, and I see that motherly instinct in her that must have drawn my brother to her like a moth to a flame.

He always did want a mom so damn bad when we were younger. Looks like he found one.

Lucky bastard.

“Yeah, kid. I knew your brother,” she utters softly, her eyes creasing and becoming shiny before she blinks the tears trying to well up away and clears her throat. “That boy was like my son. Him and Van. Well, the entire pack, truly, and their Ramsey is like my daughter as well.”

I blink the tears trying to form in my eyes. “So, they were still together after all this time. Thank fuck.”

My eyes close as I breathe in deeply.

“Did they work here or something?” I ask when I finally look back up at her.

She’s cleaning the broken glass from the floor near her feet and barks out a laugh at my question, shaking her head at me in amusement as she stands back up and dumps the shards in the trash.

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