Page 43 of Broken Dreams

“When did you leave?” I ask, confused. “Why wasn’t I told?”

“You don’t own anyone in the club, I do. I’m not sure you remember that, despite your obsession with two of my omegas,” Bret says sharply.

Ignoring his words, I recognize that he’s deflecting. Fucking snake.

I track Linus and Makayla’s heats when I can’t be a part of them. I know exactly when they end, which is why I’m here roughly seventeen hours after her heat should be over. The only way Bret and Slick Dreams would be across the country is if they left in the early hours of the morning.

Scent matching with two omegas has made me even more ruthless, and I’ve had to force myself not to inject them with trackers multiple times.

Now I wish my control wasn’t as good as it is. Hindsight really is twenty-twenty.

“This is true,” I drawl. “However, I would suggest not shitting on one of your most loyal clients. Makayla and Linus are what keep me coming back. This is bad business.”

“You’re right, of course you are,” he says hurriedly. “They killed a guard as they made their exit early this morning and we had to make sure everyone else was safe.”

Everyone else. Fuck.

“Makayla just finished her heat. Why do I feel like there’s something you’re hiding?” I ask. “I’ve been hounding you for years to buy them?—”

“Shh, Jesus,” Brett yelps. “Fuck, what if someone hears you?”

Well, I was trying to be discreet, but I can be the worst kind of asshole. The one with nothing left to lose.

“You are testing my patience,” I warn him. “Are they with you?”

I don’t have to say who I mean, he knows. I don’t give a shit about his operation outside of how it affects the people I care about. So many wasted years, I’m so fucking stupid. I waited too long.

Forcing my racing thoughts into a box to deal with later, I focus on the imbecilic words coming out of Bret’s mouth.

“Well, you see,” he begins, “the alphas who were with Makayla took her and Linus. It was late and everyone wasfocused on the main room. They were all new clients who wanted to stay anonymous.”

“We all know you don’t care as long as you’re getting paid,” I mutter. “Where were you when all of this happened?”

If he was hiding in his office, I’m going to break both of his fucking legs. I’ll light his pubic hair on fire just to listen to him scream!

“The alphas worked together to knock me out. Linus said he was going to walk her to bed and clean up. Due to personality conflicts, I had him stay with her,” he explains.

No one likes Bret Harris. He’s a selfish prick who doesn’t give his omegas enough of anything. If the area wasn’t up to expectations, I’m sure the alphas wouldn’t be happy. Not everyone who comes through Slick Dreams is a soulless criminal.

“Go on,” I rasp. If he was in front of me, I wouldn’t be able to keep myself from hurting him. It’s better that he isn’t so I can get as much information as possible before I begin to search for them.

The first thing I’m doing is searching the cameras in the area for any clues as to who may have been with Makayla during her heat. If Bret doesn’t have names, then this means he’s relatively worthless to me.

I have so many questions, including if this was planned beforehand and if these alphas know each other. Fuckity fuck, fuck.

“They went right out the back door, and killed Saxon when he tried to keep them from leaving,” he says finally, resigned.

Hmm. I wonder if Linus helped them to leave. Didheknow them? My questions continue to grow. If things have been growing worse here, he’d do anything to protect Makayla.

Fuck, it’s official. I’m taking a leave of absence from work. I’ve supplied everyone with enough firearms to blow themselvesup. Let them sort out their shit while I sort out mine. Sometimes, we think we have all the time in the world, until we don’t.

“How did they kill Saxon?” I ask curiously. It’ll help me figure out what kind of men I’m looking for.

“The weapon was taken with them, but it appeared to be a knife wound to the throat and then the back of the neck through his brain,” Bret says, sounding queasy.

Death fascinates instead of disgusting me. I don’t get my hands dirty as much as I’d like anymore, but doesn’t mean I won’t.

It sounds as if the people who killed Saxon were professionals. Without seeing the man, I won’t be able to know if one person or two killed him. It sounds as if a knife was thrown into his throat for the first blow. It’s what I would do if he was standing between me and freedom.

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