Page 65 of Waiting for Fate
My thoughts immediately drift to Bea, imagining the worst. “Spit it out already.”
“Someone tried to break into the apartment belonging to Sabine and Omen Powell.”
A growl rips from my throat, and I plant my fist against the side of the van, denting the metal.
“Not the van!” Jericho shouts.
Growling louder, I stalk to the closest tree and land several quick blows to its trunk. My knuckles split from the heavy hits against the rough texture of the tree bark, but I could give a shit about a little blood and pain. Someone tried to take my omega, and I wasn’t there to protect her!
“What happened?” Ridley asks, smothering a growl of his own.
Lukas takes a wary step back, sitting on the hood of the car. “Police arrived before the intruder could gain entry, but escaped before they could be apprehended. As a precaution, both omegas were placed in temporary residences with higher security.”
“Together?” I ask, already knowing they split them up. It would be the best way to mitigate the threats against them. Split them up and monitor their locations.
“No. Omen Powell was moved to the home of her Fate matched mates while Sabine is staying with her boss, Shiloh Acherley.”
Ridley gives me a hard look. “Find out who tried to get to our omega.”
“You can’t leave your current mission-“ Dromir starts, but I ignore him as I step inside of the van. Digging through our bags, I find my phone and power it on. It’s a risk to use personal devices during a stealth mission, but the danger it could bring is worth having access to the cameras I planted at the girls’ apartment.
“What time did the break-in occur?” I ask.
He hesitates, shifting from foot to foot before he admits it’s been several days. These motherfuckers hid this from us fordays?!
Scrolling back, I find the date and time he mentioned. The camera above Bea’s door gives me a clear view of the hooded alpha, who walks by several times before taking tentative steps toward their small porch. His shoulder slams into the frame, but he bounces off of the reinforced wood. He repeats his attempts several times. One of which knocks the hood covering his face. I growl, squeezing my phone hard enough it creaks from the strain.
“Fucking Benjamin Montgomery.”
Ridley snatches the phone from my hand and curses when he sees the Montgomery heir on the screen. “I’ll fucking kill him!”
Dromir takes the phone, screen shotting the image and forwarding it to himself. “We will take steps to track him down. The two of you are to remain here. Catching Doctor Harrison is still a priority.”
“You expect me to sit in this damned van when my omega is in danger?” I snarl, taking a step toward him.
Ridley’s hand lands on my shoulder, stopping me from beating the shit out of our boss. “Bea is with Shiloh. He won’t let anything happen to her.”
“I can’t trust-“
“He’s her mate too.”
Jericho gasps behind us, a whispered ‘no fucking way’ slipping from his lips. “Ah, Ridley is right, Lex. Even if this Bea isn’t his mate, Shiloh won’t let anything happen to her while she’s under his care.” I glare at the other alpha, and he shrugs. “He’s my brother.”
“Wait, that makes so much sense. I thought you looked familiar!”
Worry and possessive need have my hackles up. It shouldn’t be this Shiloh asshole looking after my omega, even if he is another of her Fate matched mates. I should be protecting her.
“Give us two weeks,” Dromir says as he opens the door to his car. “If we don’t have an update on Benjamin Montgomery’s location by then, we’ll pull you from this mission.”
Grunting my reluctant agreement, I power off my phone and toss it back into the van. I need to go on another run.
“You stupid fuckin’ brat!” My father roars as I slip into the house. He grabs a handful of my hair, dragging me into the kitchen. I cry out from the pain in my scalp, fighting to escape his ruthless grip. “I told you to clean this shit up.”
I’m slammed against the counter. The blow rattles my head, making stars dance behind my eyes. When I can focus, I spot the cup I had used this morning, still dirty, in the sink. I must have forgotten to rinse it and put it away.
“If you aren’t going to listen and clean up after yourself, you can get the fuck out of my house. It’s bad enough I have to see your ugly ass face every damn day; I won’t be cleaning up after you too.”
His words cut deep, but the alcohol on his breath reminds me this isn’t really how he feels. I am the spitting image of my mother, which is why he claims to hate me so much. Momma died a year ago this summer. Lung cancer. They say losing a bonded mate can ruin an alpha, and my father is proof of that.
