Page 35 of Unhinged
"You've been my bonus son since you were eight. I know you as well as Raiden and Orion."
I huff at the use of our legal names. Bettie may have been an old lady and the late Pres' wife, but she always called us by our government names in private. Road names were only for the brothers.
I lean against the wall next to the kitchen table, running a hand down my face.
"What's the matter, Titus?" she asks, finally turning from the stove. She's stirring a pot of creamy chicken and dumplings, her wooden spoon swirling like it's keeping time with her heartbeat.
"I don't know, Bettie." The words come out rougher than I expect. "This omega's got my head a mess."
Bettie whirls around, slamming the spoon down on the counter so hard it splatters broth onto her hand. She barely seems to notice. "She doesn't have you anything. You did that. You and my idiot sons." Her eyes narrow. "What the hell were you thinking? Kidnapping an omega? Putting hands on her? And then you find out she's your Kismet? Ughhh!"
She visibly shudders like she's trying to shake off the disgust.
"I'm sorry, Bettie," I say, the words softer than they should be.
"Don't be sorry, Titus." She points her finger right at me, unwavering. "Fix it. You get that young lady and her son back here, and you grovel like you've never groveled before, you hear me?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"I don't want Acid the Enforcer trying to woo her." Her words soften slightly. "I expect Titus Beck, the gentleman I raised, to be catering to her. You understand?"
"Yes, ma'am," I repeat, and this time I don’t waver.
"Good." Bettie grabs her spoon again and stirs like her life depends on it. "Now sit your sorry ass down and eat. You're not fixing anything on an empty stomach."
By the time I finish my second bowl of chicken and dumplings, my stomach is full and warm in a way that eases some of the tension riding me all damn day. Bettie might be furious with us, but the woman can cook like nobody's business.
I'm at the sink washing my bowl when my phone rings, vibrating on the counter like it's about to jump off. My pulse spikes. I grab it, setting the dish down in the drying rack with a clatter.
"Stone," I answer as I jog toward my room. "Tell me you got something."
"I do. Or well... my contact did." There's a pause, and I can hear Stone sucking in a breath like he's holding something back. "First of all, you should know that you're Levi's people, so I won't charge you anything."
"Appreciate that," I say, trying to keep calm. "What else?"
"My contact apparently knows your omega," Stone says with a dry chuckle. "They were real eager to help. And by 'help,' I mean the text message had a ton of laughing emojis and said 'good luck to your pals who wanna mess with her.' So... there's that."
My heart stutters. Brydgett's tough; I know that better than anyone. But someone knowing her well enough to think she’s untouchable? That makes my blood run cold. "Just tell me what you know," I snap.
"Ike Hale lives at 114 Mason Creek Drive, Ridgeville," Stone says. "That's all I got."
"Thanks," I mutter and hang up.
Ridgeville's just a little over an hour from here. I need to tell Gears and Arrow so we can get our asses moving.
I head straight to Gears' office. Sure enough, he's there, half-buried in papers and sipping whiskey like he's the goddamn king of patience. His head lifts when I enter, and before he can say a word, I blurt out, "Got Ike's address."
"Arrow!" Gears shouts, his glass hitting the desk hard enough to slosh whiskey over the rim.
The sound of boots pounding down the hall follows, and a second later, Arrow shoves through the door, breathing heavy. "You got something?"
"Acid has Ike's address," Gears says, his expression dark. "Now let's hope she's either there or this Ike can tell us where she is."
Arrow's gaze snaps to mine. "When do we leave?"
"Tomorrow afternoon," Gears says firmly.
"Tomorrow?" I repeat, incredulous. "We should head out now."
