Page 143 of Broken Dreams

Pulling off my work gloves, I touch two fingers to my forehead in mock salute before walking toward my car. It’s ridiculously out of place in this neighborhood and too expensive. I guess I should just sell it and buy a truck. I don’t really have any attachment to it, and it immediately signals me as an outsider.

Getting into the car, I toss the gloves to the side and shut the door. I rented out an apartment in a high rise building downtown for now, and I need to get back to clean up. The engine purrs as I turn on the car, making my lips tip up.

I glance to my left to ensure I’m clear of traffic before smoothly merging onto the road. I have drinks tonight with Corbin so he can introduce me to members within the criminal underbelly of the city. I need to mingle with the alphas in order to be accepted, which means my presence is requested at this gentleman’s club.

I expect it’ll be boring and filled with old men who will ask me questions about why I’m in Minneapolis. It’s a legitimate concern, because I wouldn’t be here at all if Linus and Quinnweren’t. A part of me wants to be honest and tell the men tonight that I’m here in pursuit of my scent matches.

Another part of me wonders if showing my cards to everyone who asks is a dumb move. Rolling my eyes as I fight through rush hour traffic, I ask myself if I really care what some old men think. The only thing that matters is getting accepted by the various circles needed to allow me to rub elbows with my omegas.

That’s it. The rest of the judgy assholes in the world can get fucked.

Feeling better about my decision, I ignore the fact that I’ve been fighting with myself the entire drive home. I park in the underground garage, checking my phone for the first time all day as I walk to the elevator. I have a few texts from my contacts complaining about my hiatus that I ignore, and a single text from Corbin confirming drinks tonight.

Corbin:

Maybe tone down the suit tonight, yeah?

Wonderful. I’m already getting fashion advice from a crime boss. I stick out here like a sore thumb, and I doubt I’ll be able to change everything about myself to fit in

This apartment came fully furnished because I don’t have time to worry about buying personal things. I’m barely here, and I only need a place to sleep and shower. It even feels empty as I walk through the space to the bathroom.

If I’m honest with myself, most of the places that I’ve lived in have been like this, since I travel so much. The only time I’ve enjoyed being with anyone is when I was able to watch Quinn and Linus together. I truly am a voyeur.

Outside of the games I play with myself to see how long I can watch before my control frays, I loved seeing the way Quinn andLinus interacted together. Every touch was filled with adoration and love, every moan uncontrived and real.

It felt like they were stealing moments with each other, but they also knew I was a safe person. I learned a lot through their body language, what they enjoyed, and then it allowed me to use it to pleasure them both. I’m not a selfish lover.

It’s everything else about myself that I’m working on.

As the hot water beats over my skin, washing away the sweat of the day, I tell myself some hard truths. I think that Quinn and Linus are reminded of their time at the club when they see or hear my voice. When I first became a patron of the club, before I was one of Quinn or Linus’ regulars, I’d see some really fucked up shit.

I thought insisting on a private room when I was with them would help limit the reality of where we were, but those were pretty lies I told myself. Every moment I paid to be with them lined Bret’s pockets, making me part of the problem.

How do you prove to people that you care about them after everything you’ve done that points to the opposite?

I’m struggling to stuff all of my insecurity away when I stride through the doors of the address Corbin gave me. I chose to ignore his text message about my suit and wore it anyway.

I’m working on being a better alpha, and that has nothing to do with my clothing choices. The sharp black suit with gray accents is part of my armour, just like makeup is warpaint for women.

I’m nervous about tonight because these alphas are powerful men in the circles Quinn also travels in. They don’t have to like me, they merely have to agree to help.

Corbin meets me outside of the room with a stony look on his face, and for a moment, I worry I did something to offend him.

“I need you to stop for a second and listen to me,” he says. “Quinn’s father is in that room, but I suspect he’ll be leavingsoon. You’re here to discuss joining our community, you don’t know who Quinn is, and you’re going to do a damn good job of putting on the asshole devil may care affect you first rolled into town with. Got it?”

“Si,” I say before I can stop myself. Fuck, somehow, Corbin has a way of making me feel like a stupid kid who is in way over their head.

“Perfect,” he mutters, stepping back inside.

Arranging my face into a smirk as I throw myself into my role, I follow him, my gaze moving over the players in the room. This is the space I’m comfortable in. If I leave behind my need to reunite with Quinn and Linus and earn their forgiveness, I can be cold and calculating.

Some would say that makes me weak, yet I don’t believe it does. It’s just another facet of myself.

There are six men of all different ages in the room chatting, which means this isn’t a group of only senior mafia leaders. That doesn’t bother me as I need allies of all kinds, and I make myself comfortable in an armchair as I get a feel for everyone.

“This is Christian,” Corbin says gruffly as he returns to his seat. “He’s thinking about relocating to Minneapolis.”

It’s the same lie I gave him when I first met him, so I suppose it’ll work now as well.

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