Page 78 of Broken Dreams

“Where’s your good for nothing brother?” Dad asks, crossing his arms over his expansive chest. He hits the gym too hard and looks a little ridiculous to me.

I hate how he puts my brother down, especially when Callum works really hard and is such a good person. It’s always been like that, though he puts up a really good front to the rest of the world that we’re the apples of his eye. Hah.

“He’s in the office,” I say, leading the way toward Callum and away from our omegas. This was a tactical choice, since it’ll give them safety and privacy.

Quinn and Linus are practicing and getting ready to start their first shift tomorrow night, and I know they’re buzzing with excitement. Quinn has expressed that she’s nervous about how much more difficult even one word answers are becoming, and I believe it’s stress as well as the big changes she’s experiencing.

I asked if she wanted to see a professional, but she refused. She’s been tight lipped about the past, and I believe she wants to tell me, but writing it all out would be worse than saying it.

I asked her for a list of people I needed to kill, and she smiled before giving it to me: Alpha Miles Kellogg and Bret Harris. Linus circled the latter’s name, throwing in his two cents about the club’s alpha.

I’ll find a way to track them both down and kill them, though I worry Bret may find us first.

“Hudson won’t leave me alone,” Dad groans. “Do you have Quinn or not?”

“She’s not a possession, even if she was here,” I state. “I will never stop looking for her, so if you ever want grandchildren, maybe you should pray I do.”

“She was never right for you,” he sighs as we walk into the office.

“What brings you over?” Callum asks, not bothering with the pleasantries. He has a lot less time for his bullshit.

“Quinn Hughes,” Dad says.

In another life, we were both lawyers, I’d swear it. We both took multiple logic courses in college, just for shits and giggles.

“What about her?” he asks. “There’s no one here by that name.”

Hiding my smile, I walk over to lean against the desk next to my brother.

“Why does Hudson think his daughter, who has been gone for twenty years, has suddenly popped up to be with two degenerates like us?” I ask.

Quinn’s father actually called us this when we left her house the day she was kidnapped. The fucker. I’ve had to keep myself from blowing his brains out on multiple occasions. It’s actually why Callum and I have distanced ourselves from him. If I can prove that he sold her, I won’t hold back.

“You’re no such thing, you’re Kellys,” Dad sniffs, ignoring the question. “Hudson got a tip that his daughter had been seen recently, and wants to reunite with her. You know poor Ayla has never been the same since she lost Quinn.”

I don’t know how the poor woman is still with us, to be honest. She’s so fragile and quiet, if I knew Quinn would remain safe, I’d find a way for them to see each other. I’ll ask Quinn if she wants to see Ayla, and then go from there. Fuck, there’s so much shit to navigate through.

“Sympathetic segues won’t get you anywhere with us,” I remind him.

“So why are you really here?” Callum asks. “We aren’t responding to Hudson for a reason, and that’s because he’s not worth our time. The two of you made every effort to keep us away from Quinn before she disappeared. You won, you kept us from her forever. That’s quite a flex and a desperate one, but whatever.”

My brother has a sharp tongue, same as I do. Mine gets a bit more use because I care less about what people think. I only behave when absolutely necessary.

“Stop putting words in my mouth,” Dad growls as I struggle not to roll my eyes. “None of that happened. You were too old for her, my God, you’re so dramatic, Callum.”

Meh, it was only four or five years. It doesn’t mean we couldn’t have accompanied her to the mall.

“It’s a moot point now,” I remind him.

“It’s not, because someone took a photo of her,” he says, pulling out his phone to hand it to me angrily.

Going into Minneapolis was a gamble, but hiding isn’t living either. Quinn deserves to build a life, confidence, and everything that comes with that. We’re willing to help her fight the demons who come along the way, even if it means our own father and hers.

Glancing down, I see a photo of her getting out of the car and shrug. My new SUV has tags that aren’t connected to my brother or I, and it’s currently in the garage. My father has never seen it.

“She was fourteen when she disappeared, how do you know that’s her?” I ask. Without him noticing, I forward the photo to myself and then delete the message from his phone before closing everything out to hand it back to him.

Dad colors slightly as he shoves it into his pocket, looking as if his clothes are too tight as he shifts on his feet.

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