Falling Together (The Omega Haven Book 1) Page 11
“Shit,” Lyle said. “Antoine is going to have a fit.”
“What?” Hank said. “So he’s a little chubby around the middle. You’re a photographer, do your smoke and mirrors stuff and no one will notice.”
Lyle laughed and Craig grumbled, pressing a hand across Jake’s belly. Jake jerked away from the touch, but there was nowhere to go.
“That’s no belly fat, Hank. That’s a baby,” Craig said.
“Antoine was selling him as the virginal Snow White,” Lyle added. “No way to do that with a pup in his belly.”
“In a few months, there’ll be a baby to sell. That’ll more than make up for the loss of revenue, especially if it's an Omega. Besides, he’s still a beauty.”
The three men contemplated him, while Jake tried to shield himself from the gazes, impossible given Hank and Craig were still holding his arms.
“He is exquisite,” Lyle agreed. “And there are a few who like the pregnant look. Not much we can do about it now, anyway. I’ll snap a few pics, send them on to Antoine.”
Jake struggled in their grips again at the cold Alpha’s name.
“You’re gonna need something to keep him still,” Craig said. “He’s feisty.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve got just what we need,” Lyle replied easily. “I’ll get everything set up.”
Chapter Twenty
Being on the road again was a relief. Dave was by his side, but letting him drive. He felt more at ease this time, though he wasn’t sure what awaited him at the end of this journey. Would Jake say yes, come back with him? Or would he choose the life they’d sent him to?
The unknown should have bothered him, but it didn’t. Even the memories of Avery seemed distant somehow. He turned up the music, letting it wash over him. If things went his way, by tonight he’d have Jake home.
They pulled up in front of the safe house.
“No car,” Dave remarked as they climbed out. “But maybe Moira’s back.”
He went to the door, Will on his heels. The house seemed too quiet, and he wasn’t surprised when no one answered the knock.
“Jake?” he called. “It’s Will and Dave.”
He turned to Dave. “They wouldn’t have taken him with them if they were going somewhere, would they?”
“No, but they’d have left someone with him.”
“Any chance they moved him already?”
Dave shook his head. “He hasn’t been here a full day yet, Will. They’d only move him if there was a clear danger.”
There was no sign of a disturbance. Will circled the house, jumping the fence into the backyard and putting old skills into practice.
“Jake was out here, maybe yesterday,” he called to Dave as he walked through the back garden. “With another wolf, not Alan. Looks like they circled the fence and went back inside.”
He returned to the front of the house. “I can smell Jake the strongest out here but it’s not fresh. Hours old.”
“So, it looks like they did move him.”
In the distance, he heard the roar of a car engine.
“Someone's coming. We should have our answer in a minute.”
He hoped that someone included Jake. Of all the things he’d anticipated on making this journey, the idea that Jake wouldn’t be there at the end of it wasn’t one of them.
Alan’s car rounded the bend, pulling up next to theirs. He looked surprised to see them and Will felt a pang of disappointment that the car was empty.
“Back so soon?” he asked. “You find another Omega?”
“No,” Dave said. “We’re actually here to talk to Jake.”
Alan, who was already looking uncomfortable, seemed to become even more so at their words. He looked away, one hand idly rubbing the back of his neck, his elbow stuck out.
“Had to move him on. He’s not here.”
“Why?” Will asked sharply.
“Hmm?” Alan turned towards him, seeming surprised he’d spoken.
“Why’d you move him so soon? That’s not your usual method.”
“Situation changed. We had word it wasn’t safe to keep him here, found him somewhere safe to move on to.”
Alan was lying. Will could tell; his voice, his scent, his expression gave it all away.
“And where’s that?”
An awkward smile graced Alan’s face. “Come on, guys. You know better than that. I can’t just be giving you the location of safe houses. You know where one is, that’s enough of a risk.”
Will played along. “We want Jake back. How long to return him here?”
The smile fell away, a hint of anger creeping into Alan’s expression. “That’s not how this works. You don’t get to dump an Omega here then come back and claim them. He’s not yours, not anymore.”
Alan’s words were much more telling than Will suspected the other man realized.
“Whose is he?”
There was a definite hesitation before Alan replied.
“He’s his own person, that’s how this works.”
Will’s keen eyes scanned Alan, his nose scenting. He could smell Jake on him, the scent strong enough to be recent. It wasn’t easy to push past that, to let it turn to background noise, but he drew on his training and forced it from his awareness. Other scents rose to greet him. The second shifter from the garden. A third shifter, vaguely, like they hadn’t had physical contact. And, stronger than that, the familiar smell of cash. It was easy to see the bulge it made in Alan’s pocket.
Will shrugged his shoulders, giving an easy smile. “You’re right, Alan. I’m sorry. We just left some things unfinished, Jake and I.” He moved closer as he spoke, until Alan was within arm’s reach. “Maybe I could write him a note? Could you see that he gets it?”
“Of course,” Alan said, relief on his face as he set a friendly hand on Will’s shoulder.
Will placed a hand over Alan’s and made his move, twisting Alan's arm behind his back and shoving him face first against the car.
“What the hell! Get off me,” Alan yelled, struggling in his grip. But he was no match for Will’s Alpha strength.
Will reached into Alan’s pocket and pulled out the wad of cash, tossing it to Dave to count.
“That’s a lot of cash to carry around.”
“There’s nothing wrong with carrying cash.”
“There is when it’s illegal proceeds from selling an Omega.”
Alan struggled in his grip. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“There’s about four thousand here,” Dave said.
Will leaned forward, speaking into Alan’s ear. “That’s about half the going rate for a finder’s fee for an Omega these days.”
“Half? Craig said—” Alan stopped himself, but it was too late.
“Craig said what? Come on, Alan. There’s no getting out of this. I used to work shifter crimes. I’m the closest thing to a living lie detector, and I know bullshit when I hear it.”
Alan banged his fist against the car bonnet and Will wrenched his arm up higher, forcing a cry of pain from the other man.
“Come on, Alan. I’m playing nice right now. You don’t want to see me play it another way, believe me.”
“Moira’s gone to stay with her sister. The house was compromised a while back so she said we’d stop using it. These guys offered me money if I kept it open as a safe house, and more money for every Omega I delivered to them.”
“How long?” Dave asked, stepping closer. “How long have you been selling them on?”
“Four months.”
That wasn’t the whole truth. He was leaving something out.
“And before that?” Will asked, leaning on him.
“I couldn’t do a whole lot while Moira was still here, but sometimes I'd redirect an Omega, tell the relocator they’d changed their minds and deliver them to Craig.”
“The house wasn’t just compromised, was it? It was you. You started offering the Omega for sale and they figured out where you were getting th
em from.”
“It was a lot of money. And who gave a damn about some runaway Omega? They probably had better lives with the Alphas who bought them than they’d ever have had in the miserable places we were sending them to.”
“Where. Is. Jake,” Will asked, in a tone that told Alan he wasn’t asking again.
“Oh no,” Alan said, shaking his head. “You don’t know who these people are, what they’d do to me if they found out I ratted on them.”
“What about what I’ll do to you?” Will asked, voice no less menacing for being soft.
“No,” Alan said, though he sounded less than sure of himself. “You’re with Dave, and Moira has always said that Dave is good people. Plus, you used to be a cop. They have standards. You’re not going to do anything you’d regret.”
The more Alan talked, the more certain he sounded. Will cursed silently, reaching into Alan’s other pocket, and extracting his phone.
“Dave, keep a hold of him, will you?” he asked, and they swapped places.
“Password?” he said, waving the phone in front of Alan’s face.
“Bite me,” Alan said back.
“There’s a lot of things I could do to you right now that wouldn’t give me an ounce of regret, Alan. Simple things that cause a lot of pain but not a lot of damage. I’m sure you’d rather skip the demonstration.”
“Four-four-eight-nine,” Alan mumbled.
He flicked through the shifter’s phone. A handful of calls exchanged over the previous two days. He could pick out Dave’s number and in between another number. He’d called them right after Dave had made contact, then again yesterday after they’d dropped Jake off. The same number each time.
“Is that Craig’s number?” he asked, showing Alan.
“How should I know? You’re the cop.”
Dave shoved him against the car and Alan grunted.
Shaking his head, Will walked away, pulling out his own phone.
This was the last thing he wanted to do, the last person he wanted to call, but he needed help and there was only one place to get it.
Chris answered on the second ring, sounding cautious.
“Hello?”
“Chris, it’s Will.”
Surprise turned to concern as Will explained his reason for calling.
“It’s not just that we’ve hit a dead-end, Chris. It’s that I know the kind of guys who run these operations. Dave and I are not equipped to go up against them.”
Chris listened, asked all the right questions, and contemplated Will’s request.
“We’ll help you, Will, of course. But on one condition.”
“Name it.” There wasn’t much he wouldn’t give to see Jake safe. He’d pushed him away, told him being out of the city was the only safe place for him, and put him right back into the hands of the kind of people he’d saved him from.
“We need you back on the job. You agree to rejoin the team and we’ll put every effort into find Jake.”
That was the last thing he’d expected Chris to ask.
“Okay. I guess it's time.”
“Damn right it is. Where are you?”
Chris took the address they were at, Alan’s cell number and the number that he’d called, and promised to get back to him.
They took Alan inside, and Will waited for Chris’ call. He didn’t have long to wait.
“These guys are on a watch list, Will. Not your friend Alan, but Craig and the number Alan was calling. Tim’s team have been following up, but they were waiting for more info before they moved. How sure are you that these guys have Jake?”
“Jake was with Alan, Alan called that number, and only that number, over the past twenty-four hours, and now Jake is gone. The only name Alan has given us is Craig.”
There was silence over the phone and a brief crackle as the signal faded.
“We’ve traced the phone to an address a few hours from your location. We’re putting together a team to carry out a raid.”
“I can meet you there.”
Chapter Twenty-One
They’d strung him up by his arms in chains that hung from the ceiling. It forced him to stretch, right up onto his tiptoes. He could see why Lyle had done it, though. He couldn’t move, couldn’t kick out, and it also stretched out the long line of his body, masking any sign of what he hid within.
Laughing, they’d left him like that afterward, Craig climbing the stairs with noisy footsteps while Hank slipped to the back of the room, and through a door Jake hadn’t seen. He could hear voices coming from inside, mostly Hank's, and another softer voice, pleading.
Letting his head fall, he closed his eyes. His sight wouldn’t do him much good now, but whatever he could hear might give him some clue as to where they were and what would happen next.
Lyle had sent the pictures off to Antoine, going upstairs to phone him. From the rise and fall of his voice through the open cellar door, Jake guessed the news wasn’t going over all too well. A few minutes later, Hank crossed the room. He stopped nearby for a moment, and Jake could feel his eyes on him. He didn’t twitch, didn’t move, focusing hard on keeping his heart rate from rocketing and giving away that he was awake.
A moment later, Hank’s footsteps moved on up the stairs. The cellar door stayed open, but their voices moved away, out of the kitchen. He strained to hear them.
“Antoine wants him, as soon as possible,” Lyle said.
“What about the other one? I’m getting tired of babysitting.” That was Hank.
“He’s in negotiations with a private buyer for when he’s ready to be sold. Wants him kept here until then,” Lyle replied.
“Fine,” Hank concluded. “We’ll move Jake this afternoon.”
“I’ll let him down,” Craig said. “He can sleep in with the other one.”
“No,” Hank said. “Leave him. Turn up the thermostat down there. Get him hot and bothered. We’ll give him a nice cool drink of water later and he’ll sleep like the beauty he is.”
Jake had to appreciate that they were consistent at least. Dehydrate their captives, then drug the water. A surefire way to get compliance. Maybe this time, things would be different.
By the time they finally let him down, his body was screaming at him, his wrists, shoulders, back, legs, right down to his feet. He’d long given up trying to hold himself up on his toes and let his arms take his full weight.
He went to his knees with a cry as they lowered him, gasping in air as if it would soothe the fire burning in his muscles. They’d turned the heat up as they’d promised, his body bathed in sweat, muscles quivering from the strain. They freed his wrists; red, raw, and bleeding from the metal cuffs that had held him up.
“Antoine was right,” he heard Lyle say, his voice a low whisper. “Red really is your color. Leave him like that for a minute while I take some pictures.”
He kept his eyes closed, ignoring the men even when they moved him at Lyle’s instruction, crossing his arms in front of him and drawing a hiss from his throat.
“Eyes open this time, looking at the ground,” Lyle said. A foot nudged him, then kicked his shin when he didn’t comply and he jerked to awareness, opening his eyes, and training his gaze on the ground. Got to be good for them. Make them think he had no fight in him, that he’d do everything he was told.
“Good, very good.” The click of a camera shutter sounded, again and again. It was a sound that followed him in his nightmares, like that of the whip swishing through the air and the crack when it landed. Maybe this was just another nightmare. One he could wake up from.
“Okay, we’re done,” Lyle called, and a hand landed on his head, stroking softly.
“He’s right, you were very good. Didn’t fight us an inch. For that, you get a reward. You’re going on a trip later, a long one. You’ll be in the back of a truck, it’ll be warm, it’ll be close and dark.” Hank’s voice wasn’t soft exactly, but a more gravelly sound than his sharp tones from before. “If you’re going to be good for us, we’ll ge
t you some food and some cool water. How does that sound?”
His mouth was bone-dry, his throat parched. There was nothing he’d like better in that moment than a drink. They had him over a barrel. Of course, they didn’t know he knew what they planned.
He nodded against the hand on his head. “Yes, please.”
“Good boy. See how easy it is when you do what you’re told? Antoine likes his boys that way. Rewards them, like we’ll reward you.”
Hank stayed for another minute, his hand stroking across Jake’s hair. It took effort not to shudder under his touch, not to move away even despite the pain and the leaden feeling in his body.
Craig returned with a tray, setting down a bowl of chicken and rice, and holding out a bottle of water, so cold that little rivulets of condensation were running down the side. He twisted the lid off and opened it, setting it just within reach of Jake. He picked up on their cues, the little game they were playing and instead of reaching for it, like they were expecting, he turned his head up and looked at Hank.
“You go on ahead. That’s your reward for being good for us.”
Hank's hand let him go and he and Craig walked towards the stairs. They were watching him but trying not to seem like they were. Jake knew he had to make it look good, like he had the day he’d run from home. Asking to sit down with Kelly and Rick that evening and discuss how to make things right between them. Made them think they had him right where they wanted him.
He surged forward, grasping desperately for the bottle, and bringing it to his lips. The action hurt, even more so when he lifted his arms and tipped the bottle, turning sideways so the men couldn't see what he was doing as clearly.
A moment later, he heard a chuckle and their footsteps jogging up the stairs. The upturned bottle was pressed to his lips, the cool water touching his skin, a tiny trickle seeping through. He wanted so much to let the cool liquid in, let it ease his raw, dry throat. Instead, he lowered the bottle, rubbing hastily at his mouth. The tiniest bit had got into his mouth and it took effort to work up enough saliva so he could spit it out. There was still the matter of the full bottle, which couldn't be full when they came back down. Glancing around, he found a bucket in the far corner. Even from that distance, the smell alone told him what it was for. Besides, his bladder was aching and what better way to hide the drugged water?