Page 152 of Broken Dreams

My lips twitch as I sigh, trying to get my mind on what I need to get dressed. I’m just glad that each encounter where I’ve found people being robbed or interrupted a kidnapping filled the darkness that’s been starved for attention. I know there’s not a chance for complete redemption for my soul, I’m too fucked for that.

The only kind I need is from my omegas. I can appreciate the good work I’ve been doing for others, but it’s not enough.

Looking critically at my closet, I see two sets of clothes on either end. One set is what I call ‘before Minnesota’ and the other is ‘after’. All of my heavy lifting each day as I help build Omega’s Haven’s transitional living home has made my body change drastically.

My arms and legs are full of corded muscle, which means that I no longer can wear the clothes I used to. Instead, I had to commission new suits in order to accommodate my body. On the left side of the closet are well loved jeans and t-shirts as well as sweatpants.

It’s amusing to me to see the way Minneapolis has written its story along my skin, making me decide that it’s growing on me. Getting dressed in a gray suit, I pocket my phone, checking my reflection to ensure I didn’t fuck up the buttons on my vest.

While some things have changed, I’m still meticulously put together. I also have more facial hair, the goatee I’ve always had fuller than the last time I saw my omegas.

Tonight is important. It’s the night that the select senior mafia members will be voting on my ability to stay in Minnesota. If this doesn’t go my way, I’ll never have the chance to make things right with Linus and Quinn.

For a group that tends to drag their feet, this moved faster than I thought it would. The interminable meetings weren’t as bad as Corbin made them out to be, and I think I’ll miss this all, along with what could have been if they deny my bid to stay here.

Blowing out a breath to clear the nerves, I grab my keys and wallet from the kitchen counter as I move through the apartment to leave. I turn out lights except for one for luck as my mom used to say as part of her superstitions, and then I’m out the door.

I’ve been thinking about her more in passing, wishing things had been different than they were. I think all men have regrets as they get older, and my mother is one of mine. If things had been different, she’d still be alive today.

The elevator feels as if I’m moving in slow motion as it carries me down to the garage. Tonight is the culmination of a lot of work. It feels surreal to be heading to what could be my last meeting if this vote doesn’t go well.

I can feel myself getting spacy as I get closer to arriving, my mind threatening to drift as I move on autopilot.

I barely pay attention as I walk across the garage, unlocking the new truck I bought last week. It’s still flashy, but I like it better than the ridiculously expensive Mercedes coupe I sold. I also like that there’s so much more leg room as well.

Change doesn’t necessarily bother me usually, but there’s been a lot of it in a short time frame. Most of it has been for the best. My personality has shifted as well, and I’m finding myself caring more about others

The noises of the city around me silences as I close the door to the truck, and I find myself annoyed by it. If my brain is going to be chaotic, the world around me may as well match it.

Fuck, I need to get a damn grip.

Pulling on my seatbelt, I move through the inevitable things that I do every time I get into a vehicle. Once the truck is on, the engine purring away the way I want to for my omegas, I flick on the radio. The heavy metal sounds ofStone Demonsbegin to pulse through the speakers, and I decide that’ll match my mood.

My hand shifts the truck into gear, and I start my drive to the gentlemen’s club where I had one of my first meetings. It seems to be where a lot of business is conducted, which is amusing. Every mile is bringing me closer to finding out if I’ve impressed enough people, or if they’ve merely been humoring me.

If there’s a saint for good luck, I whisper a prayer to them as I turn up the volume of my music even more.

Please, please, show favor to me tonight.

CHAPTER 30

QUINN

Evan is waiting for me once I’m done with the group routine at the club. Cerenity decided that this meeting was more important than cage dancing, so I gave Linus a kiss and let him get me ready. I had a bag packed with clothes to change into, helping me remain as calm and confident as possible.

I’m neither, to be honest.

“How many weapons do you have on you?” Evan asks once he pulls out of the parking lot toward the meeting.

I’m wearing my crossbody for my mini tablet and pull it out as I think about it. The weather is still warm, which means I have to hide my weapons accordingly. When it’s cooler, I’ll have more flexibility since layers mean more hiding spaces.

I guess I am a mafia man’s daughter after all. I just needed to be reminded of it. There’s too many shadows that want to swallow me up if I tread down that road, so I answer Evan instead.

“At least eight pins that are sharp enough to take out an eye or kill someone in my bun, a gun on my right thigh, and a knife strapped to my other thigh. There’s also pepper spray in my purse,”I say.

My dress is knee length and full enough to hide all of it. Demure, pretty, and deadly is the look I’m going for. Linus had to add a few hair extensions to make my low bun fuller, but it isn’t noticeable. Men tend to not pay attention to things like that anyway.

I’m not planning for trouble, but without my alphas, I’m loaded for the promise of it. Evan met me in the back hallway so I wouldn’t have to walk through the club.

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