Page 193 of Broken Dreams

“This is about Alisa, huh?” Linus asks after we shower together and pull on street clothes. My hair is still pinned and curled, which is why we’re done so quickly. I didn’t want to go through removing my sharp pins from my hair.

“Yeah, I think it is,” I admit, fixing my shirt so it lays well. I’m wearing a pair of jeans and a snarky t-shirt that states that I’m a demon without coffee. I have a pocket knife in my front pocket, and a gun in a holster at my back that I cover with a jacket.

Regardless of the outside temperature, it’s always cold in Augustine’s office, so I’ll be glad for the extra warmth.

“Let’s not talk about how much I hated her for being such a selfish twat,” Linus mutters, picking up our bag to make sure everything is put away.

Our lives are what they are today because of the things we went through and experienced. I’m certain that Alisa feels the same as she comes to terms with her next steps, and she deserves to reunite with her brothers if she wants.

The trouble is, I have no idea if she’d want to.

Fingers linked together, Linus and I walk out of the dressing room to find Augustine talking to some of the dancers as he waits for us.

“I just want to make sure that you know that you don’t owe the Finnegan boys anything, alright?” Augustine says, searching our gazes.

“We know,” I tell him.

Nodding abruptly, he walks us to his office.

“We seem to end up here often,” Linus teases him.

“It’s because you’re very sought after,” Augustine says. “Being less interesting isn’t really an option, though. Here we are.”

Pushing open the door to his office, I find Alisa's brothers with drinks in their hands, looking gloomily at the ground. Their heads both jerk up as Linus and I walk into the office, and take seats in front of them.

“Be nice,” Augustine bites out. “Let’s start with introductions, I guess. The tall, grumpy one is Lars, while the one with all the tattoos that looks like he could be in the mafia is Caleb.”

“Come on, I am nice,” Caleb complains. “I own a bar, tell most rules to fuck off, but am not in fact in the mafia.”

“Good for you,” Augustine mutters. “I’ll be outside. Their alphas will find their way back here, so you’re on borrowed time.”

Stalking into the hallway, he leans on the wall to give some privacy.

“Look, I’m not completely sure that the Alisa I know from the club is your sister,” I begin. “We didn’t talk very much because?—”

“Quinn was mute until very recently, and took a lot of shit for that at Slick Dreams,” Linus says. His usually sweet voice is dark and gravelly. He’s angry about being here, because we have to talk about a place that continues to make its previous existence known in our lives.

As much as we try to live in the present, Slick Dreams and Bret will continue to linger like a bad smell.

“It was a defense mechanism that became more permanent,” I sigh. “The Alisa I knew is pretty, has long dark hair, and dark eyes. She’s in her early twenties as well. I know hair color can change over time, so that may not help.”

“It’s been such a long time since she was taken,” Caleb sighs.

“I get it,” I say. “I was kidnapped at fourteen, and Callum and Duncan have been looking for me ever since. It’s nice to see that her brothers never forgot about her.”

“I always used to remember that her hair was so dark that it used to reflect blue in it,” Lars says, taking a slow sip of his whiskey. His gaze is reflective as he remembers his sister. “She was kidnapped right out of her bed.”

“Oh wow,” I whisper, shaking my head.

“There were no clues or any hints as to where she could have gone. We checked her phone for a boy or someone she could have been talking to but there was no one,” Caleb says.

“I would say her hair was that dark,” Linus says softly. “I used to pull it out of the hair brushes. She was always running behind while getting ready.”

Linus used to save her ass often, because that was something that would get you punished. The sweet man he is, he doesn’t explain why she was always late.

“Oh,” Lars says, looking as if he’s at a loss for words.

“Slick Dreams was raided a few days ago,” I say. “The guards were killed, the omegas brought to Minneapolis to a shelter so they can rebuild their lives in whatever way they wish.”

---