Page 40 of Broken Dreams

I want to spoil my omegas completely. That needs to start with some hard truths, though before I can do that.

“We’re almost to Milwaukee,” I tell him, stretching my neck muscles to relax them.

Duncan twitches at the sound of my voice since he fell asleep as well. I told him he should in case I needed him to drive later. We both cat napped during Quinn’s heat but not enough to be well rested.

“That gives us five more hours on the road,” my brother mumbles with a yawn that cracks his jaw.

“Um, where were we coming from?” Linus asks in a small voice.

Pretending that doesn’t make me want to fucking light Bret on fire, I simply say, “Detroit.”

“How is she doing?” Duncan asks, twisting in his seat. “I hope it’s not too tight back there.”

While the back seat is roomy for a truck, Linus has long legs. He’s got to be cramped. I’m going to need to buy an SUV. Not a big deal in the long run, I’m not hurting for money. I just want everyone to be comfortable.

“No, we’re good.” Linus says. “It feels nice to be able to snuggle under a blanket together without worrying about getting caught.”

Duncan makes a noise in the back of his throat that happens right before he kills people. I may be a hacker that makes good money for several mafia families as my day job, but we have no problem getting our hands dirty when needed. Duncan has several legitimate businesses he runs as well that bring in decent income. We’re neutral ground, which is why so many of themafia families hire us as freelancers. It gives us a lot of flexibility to do whatever we want.

Our father doesn’t enjoy how much freedom we have, but I don’t really care. We have our omegas, he won’t ever be able to complain about who we settle down with again.

Speaking of fathers and families, I’ll have to deal with Quinn’s when the time comes. There’s so much to do when you find a girl who's been missing for twenty years.

“Ah, I went to sleep so I wouldn’t overthink this whole escape thing,” Linus says carefully. “I need to know more so I don’t freak out.”

“Do you want me to just start talking, or do you have specific questions?” I ask.

If his anxiety is beginning to spark, his thoughts may be moving too fast for him to ask questions. When things are overwhelming, figuring out the best way to disseminate information is important.

Blowing out a breath, Linus takes a moment before answering.

“Where do you live? Are you living in separate houses?” he asks.

“We’ve lived together our entire lives,” Duncan answers, taking a sip of water to pace his words. “We inherited a house soon after college, and during college we shared a house we rented.”

“Our rooms are always across from each other,” I continue. “My Grandma Diedre gave the house to us when he turned twenty-one. She bought it for herself initially, but decided it was too big for her and her pack after one of her mates died. She’s now in her eighties. My grandmother wanted us to have a house with character.”

“It’s definitely that,” Duncan says with a smirk. “We used to offer it up to the families for meetings and parties. It’s a great party house, but it’s also got good bones.”

“It’s safe too,” I murmur. It’s so natural for us to bounce back and forth in a conversation without talking over the other that I don’t even notice it.

I’m sure it’s a bit creepy for others though.

“Families?” Linus asks tentatively.

“The mafia families of Minneapolis,” I explain. “We’re a tight knit group, and fight like actual families as well.”

“Yes, some of the old men are stuck in the stone age and need a kick in the pants to accept change,” Duncan grumbles. “Minneapolis isn’t really the kind of place where you’ll find turf wars, either.”

Well, not anymore, anyway.

“We also live outside of Minneapolis. It’s quiet and pleasant,” I add. “Are you worried that we’re criminals?”

“Not really,” Linus says. “I also don’t think upstanding people search for their lost childhood friend in a manner that actually works.”

“Ah, no. You’d be right about that. I had to tap into a contact or two on the dark web in order to do that,” I say. “We’ll keep you both safe.”

“Good,” he sighs. “After the way you handled the club, I don’t think I need to worry about that either.”

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