Page 63 of Discover Me
Micah steps a little closer, his voice dropping lower. "What if I want to tackle something hard tonight?"
I snort, desire spiking through me at the suggestion in his tone. "I would say get your sexy ass in the car, but it's technically theirs now, so... want to walk? There's a diner about three blocks from here that makes the greasiest burgers in the city."
"Walking sounds perfect." Micah threads his fingers through mine. "Lead the way."
We start walking, leaving the label building and Tom's fury and the complicated mess behind us. Tomorrow will bring lawyers and logistics and figuring out where I'm going to live now that my apartment isn't mine. But right now, holding Micah's hand and walking toward greasy food and a future we get to choose for ourselves, everything feels exactly right.
Micah
A few days of absolute bliss follow Kellan grabbing what little he actually owned from his apartment and all but moving into my house. Everything at the apartment belonged to the label—the furniture, the kitchen equipment, the expensive electronics mounted on the walls. His personal belongings fit into three boxes and two suitcases. Years of his life reduced to what could fit in my truck bed.
Kellan keeps calling himself homeless, dramatically throwing himself on my couch and declaring that his hero Micah hassaved him from living on the streets. The first time he does it, I laugh so hard my healing ribs ache. By the third time, I just throw a pillow at him and tell him to shut up.
"I'm a charity case," Kellan insists, catching the pillow. "A poor, destitute musician who gave up everything for love. You should probably start a GoFundMe for me."
"You literally got a check for six figures last week," I point out. "You're the opposite of destitute."
"Details." He grins at me, that real genuine smile that's been appearing more frequently. "Let me be dramatic."
Even Jamie comes over to hang out, drawn by Kellan's infectious good mood. The three of us spend an evening on my back porch, drinking beer and telling stupid stories. Jamie and Kellan bond over their shared love of terrible action movies, arguing about which franchise has the most improbable explosions. The happiness in Kellan is something I haven't seen before, not even in our best moments at his apartment. He's lighter somehow, unburdened by the weight of Tom's expectations and the label's control.
I even got my cast off and now wear a brace that's infinitely more comfortable and functional. The doctor says I'm healing well but I still won't be cleared to work for at least another month or two. My arm is weak from disuse, the muscles atrophied from weeks of immobility. Physical therapy is painful and frustrating, but at least I can use my hand again for basic tasks.
Now I'm sitting on the couch drinking coffee and scrolling through my phone, enjoying the lazy morning. Kellan pads into the living room holding the newspaper my neighbor still delivers, despite my repeated attempts to cancel the subscription.
"Hey, so this was one of the guys that hurt you, right?" Kellan's voice is uncertain as he holds out the paper. "He was missing,apparently. Just saw his picture and thought I recognized him from that day."
I pull the newspaper toward me, my stomach dropping. The headline reads "Local Alpha Reported Missing" with a photo of Colt underneath. I realize suddenly why I haven't had to deal with either Derek or Colt for the past few days. No encounters at the grocery store, no threatening visits to my house, no menacing presence in town.
I start reading the article, my coffee forgotten on the side table. "Huh, they made a mistake." I point at a line in the text. "Says here Colt's an Omega, not an Alpha. That's definitely wrong."
I keep reading, my confusion growing with each paragraph. The article mentions something about a serial killer called Hex, describing Colt as a victim found in a neighboring county. "Holy shit, he was murdered? What the absolute fuck?"
"Murders happen in your town?" Kellan leans over my shoulder to read the article himself.
"This was a few towns over, apparently." I scan the text again, trying to make sense of it. "Don't ask me what they were doing there. But wait, it says it multiple times that he's an Omega. Colt can't be an Omega. He smelled like an Alpha. Strong Alpha scent, aggressive and intimidating. There's no way I was wrong about that."
"Could he have been using a scent changer?" Kellan suggests. "Or maybe that was just his natural scent and he was actually an Omega the whole time?"
The possibility sits strangely in my mind. I'd been so certain Colt was an Alpha, that both of them were Alphas. The aggressive behavior, the physical intimidation, the way they carried themselves. But if he was actually an Omega, if he'd been masking his scent this whole time, that changes everything. Whywould an Omega pretend to be an Alpha? What purpose would that serve?
I'm sitting with that information, trying to process the implications, when I hear a noise outside. Not the normal sounds of my neighborhood, but multiple car doors slamming and voices raised in greeting. I look up concerned, setting the newspaper aside.
Kellan goes to look out the window and his eyebrows shoot up. "What the fuck?"
Before I can ask, my front door bursts open and his bandmates come strolling in like they own the place. Rex, Jordan, and Liam pile into my living room, their expressions a mix of determination and anxiety.
I stand quickly, my hand instinctively going to my phone in case this is bad news. "What's going on? Did something happen?"
"We were going to wait until Monday or so to put out an official statement," Jordan starts, his words tumbling out fast. "Give ourselves time to coordinate with lawyers and PR people who aren't Tom. But he just called to say that he's suing us for breach of contract. You know he's going to set up a press conference before we can, spin the narrative his way and make us look like the bad guys."
"I tried to get back in the building to grab some equipment and they wouldn't give me access anymore," Liam adds. "Had to get someone I know who still works there to smuggle out my guitar. If we don't control the story now, Tom will destroy us before we can recover."
"So we're doing this now," Rex finishes. "Right now. No more waiting."
"Doing what now?" I look between them and Kellan, trying to follow the conversation.
Kellan smiles softly at me, moving to stand beside me. "I guess we're telling the world the truth. About Tom's manipulation, about the fake relationship that became real, about why we're leaving the label. That Lunar Ransom is changing directions and doing things on our own terms."
