Page 42 of Defiant Beta

And because Delilah was here pretending to be something she’s not, no one will know she’s even been abducted.

If she had been wealthy, this math class, where I bore the students and myself with knowledge they will never use, would not be happening. A wealthy parent of an omega would have had this school shut down if their child went missing.

How can anyone find Delilah if she was here using a fake name?

No one will find her. Not even the police.

Not in time.

“Uh, Professor Vincent?” A female omega who smells of sweet chestnuts clears her throat, her expression wary. She musthave heard about me humiliating Delilah in class. “You, uh, just stopped talking. Should we?—”

I snap my book shut, place it on the desk, and walk out of the classroom, pulling my cell phone out of my pocket as I close the door on the staring omegas.

Last night, I struggled to sleep, tossing and turning in my bed as thoughts of what could be happening to Delilah tormented me.

I do something I should have done the moment I learned someone had taken her.

I dial a number from memory as I walk down the hallway.

Three rings and the phone clicks.

“Lucas Security?”

We’ve spoken twice, but I know exactly who I’m talking to. “Garrison Brewster?”

“Speaking.”

I check my pocket for my car keys. “You find people. I need you to find someone for me. I’m on my way to you.”

A door snicks open behind me. “Professor Vincent?” One of my students calls down the hallway. “I?—”

I hang up the call as I leave the building.

From what I know of Garrison Brewster, he rarely leaves his home. That works for me. What I need to discuss is best done face-to-face.

I cut across the quad to reach the staff parking lot, whistling when I spot Xavier raking leaves.

We’ve worked hard to get to where we are in this investigation, and I have no idea why I’m throwing away years of work for a beta I don’t know.

He takes one look at me, drops his rake, and jogs toward me. His eyes are as red as mine, a sign he got as little sleep as I did.

“I knew you’d finally see reason,” he mutters, scratching his beard.

“Where’s Levi?”

“Fencing lesson, I think.” He yawns. “We're going after her?”

We rarely argue, but last night, we got into a heated argument about Delilah. Despite my warning him not to attract the cop’s attention, he was down by the gate trying to find out what he could. That led nowhere, since even the cops didn’t have any leads.

Mercy, the omega that Delilah saved, didn’t stay on campus. Her father came to collect her, and she left soon after the cops had spoken to her in the nurse’s room.

“We are,” I say.

“I’ll text him.” He pulls out his phone, sends a message, and returns it to the same pocket when he’s done. “We could tell the cops she wasn’t who she said she was.”

We reach my car, a matte black Audi, and I open the door, turning to face him. “By the time we’d finished explaining what we were doing at the school and what we knew, she could be dead. We need professionals who will make her a priority.”

When Levi jogs toward us from the wellness center, I’m not sure if he abandoned his lesson the way I did, or if he didn’t have to teach at all.

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