Page 59 of Broken Dreams

I feel the weight of that statement, because I should have acted sooner. The reason I waited was because I didn’t want either of them to get hurt if I forcibly broke them out. I don’t have a pack, or people that I trust. I’m a lone wolf with a long list of enemies.

There isn’t a chance to respond because he grabs a card from a table and hands it to me.

“I already took a photo of it in case I ever need it. I have a feeling I’m lighting that boon on fire by giving this to you,” he says.

“Fuck them, you have my boon,” I say without thought, feeling the heavy cardstock between my fingers. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he says. “There’s a chance he won’t answer the phone.”

“I’m very persistent,” I warn, watching as he pushes the button to call the elevator.

“You may want to put the gun away,” he advises, making me curse in my mind as I lift my suit jacket to do that. “Listen,that card is all I know about where they could be. I’m being this magnanimous because I was curious as to what you’d want.”

Showing I hear him loud and clear, I nod as I enter the elevator. I pocket the card and leave it there as I get to the lobby, cross it, move to the door and to my car.

I resist the urge to call until I get to the first light, and then keep calling when it’s not answered.

August 1st

DUNCAN

“There’ssome fucker that’s calling the forwarded line again,” I grunt, frowning at my phone.

Quinn and Linus have been with us for two weeks. We’ve been keeping things low key, handing off their new computer to search for things that pop into their minds instead of needing to ask, and they’re both making plans for schooling. In whatever manner that’ll make sense for them.

They’ve missed a lot of things in the bubble of the sex club, and I feel like they have questions they aren’t comfortable asking us. I remember the things Adira used to ask me, her cheeks flaming red. The difference now is that we’re trying to find our way with our omegas. Conversation for Quinn is still difficult, as she’s unused to speaking much at all.

I can tell when she’s feeling overstimulated because her eyes seem to glaze over and she zones out. It freaked me out the first time I saw it because I couldn’t yell at her to bring her back like I would with Adira. I just have to let her come back to herself byrubbing her hand slowly or Linus will suggest leaving for their nest.

That’s their space. Callum and I haven’t had a conversation with them about it, but we agreed that we wouldn’t encroach on it without express consent, unless there’s an emergency.

Callum has his contacts already working on changing both their last names, as added protection before we make things official to become a pack. Neither of us are pushing for that yet. They’ve had few enough decisions in their life, we want to organically move in that direction.

It’s enough to have Quinn and Linus here, and be able to see them every day. I’m starved for the sight of them, but as soon as I do it’s as if I can finally relax. It just never lasts.

Quinn is getting accustomed to being more comfortable expressing her opinions with pen and paper, and each night, she and Linus sleep in their nest. I got a knock on my open door halfway through the first night to a sleepy-eyed Quinn demanding the shirt off my body.

Linus leaned against the wall as he watched, his shoulders quietly shaking with laughter. Her instincts are awakening, and I’m enjoying watching it all.

All bets are off when the screams begin, in the hours when the demons decide to play havoc with their dreams. It’s every night. My heart pounds as I get up and nearly run into Callum, his hair all fucked up, eyes wild. Linus’ voice rings through the hallways, but when we push into the nest, Quinn is just as tortured, her hands clawing at the sheets as she fights the beasts in her mind.

Crawling into the bed, we wrap our bodies around whoever is closest, lulling them back to sleep. In the mornings, we’re gone before they wake up. I don’t know if they even know we’re with them.

Neither of them have brought it up, anyway.

Outside of being awoken every night to hold them into the early morning hours, we haven’t had much excitement. No one has talked about a sexual relationship or made any moves toward it. She, my brother, and I may have history, but no one wants to push too hard. This is their freedom, their moment to figure out where they fit in the world, we’re here to watch and support.

But fuck, if every time they blush or perfume as they get turned on isn’t the ultimate torture. It’s making me more likely to want to blow people up for their bullshit, that’s for damn sure.

“Here’s an idea, answer the next call,” Callum teases me finally, hiding a smile. Yeah, yeah. Really funny. “Honestly, if they’re not leaving a message it’s because they can’t for some reason. There aren’t many people with that number.”

We gave it to Alesso, but wouldn’t he at least leave a voicemail? There isn’t any kind of personalized message to this forwarded account, as it’s different from my phone. It’s a beep and that’s it. No identifying information, just in case.

Alesso didn’t seem like the clingy type. Over the last two weeks, Callum has done a deep dive on the men we shared Quinn with during her heat, getting as much information as possible. Alesso Daventi is a money launderer in Chicago, with his own busy life. I doubt he's the one calling.

“Fuck it, if they call?—”

Ring.

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