Claimed by the Band (Fameverse #1)

Chapter 10 – JORDAN

10

JORDAN

M y stomach churns as I stare out the airplane window, watching wispy clouds drift by far below. What the hell am I doing? This goes against every rule I've set for myself over the past nine years. No face-to-face meetings. No real names. No personal connections.

And yet here I am, flying halfway across the country to meet a pack of alpha rock stars and their omega frontman.

But the fact that the people who attacked Asher are going after other targets now is proof that this shit goes even deeper than I thought.

I've been dealing with assholes like this for years. It's what I do. But this is the first time I've encountered any group quite as bold as this. Or as organized.

It's possible it's just a copycat of the first attack. The police evacuated Rita Dawson's venue before anyone could make good on the threat, but if it's not…

I close my eyes, taking a deep breath. The recycled air of the plane cabin fills my lungs, tinged with the scent of stale coffee and too many bodies crammed into too small a space. Even with the suppressants, being crowded by this many alphas and omegas makes my head spin and my nerves prickle.

At least I managed to snag an aisle seat near the back. Less chance of anyone paying attention to me.

Not that they would anyway. I made sure of that.

My hand drifts to my chest, feeling the familiar pressure of the binder beneath my baggy sweatshirt. The short, nondescript haircut. The complete lack of makeup or any other feminine touches. To anyone looking, I'm just another unremarkable beta male on a business trip.

The perfect disguise. The perfect lie.

But for how much longer?

I pull out my phone, scrolling through the messages from Asher one more time.

His enthusiasm is palpable even through text, a one-eighty from the blunt message that convinced me to make the trip. Back to exclamation points and smiley face emojis.

I'm starting to think he's got multiple personalities. It would be endearing if it wasn't so terrifying.

ASHER: Can't wait to finally meet you in person, Echo! The pack is so excited. We owe you big time for agreeing to this.

I snort softly. They have no idea.

ASHER: Let us know when your flight gets in and we'll send a car. Or I could come pick you up myself if you want.

I type out a quick reply, keeping it professional and distant.

Landing at 2. Will take a cab to the meeting spot. See you at 3.

There.

Short, simple, to the point.

No room for misinterpretation.

Asher's response is almost immediate.

ASHER: Boooo, you're no fun But okay, Mr. Mysterious. Have it your way. Can't wait to finally meet!

I wince, guilt twisting in my gut. He has no idea how wrong he is. How much of a lie this whole thing is.

But it's necessary. It has to be.

The plane starts its descent, the change in pressure making my ears pop. I close my eyes again, trying to center myself. To remember why I'm doing this.

The attack on Wild Honey was bad enough. But now with the threat against Rita Dawson? This is escalating, fast. Whatever group is behind these attacks, they're not going to stop. And if I don't do something, more omegas are going to get hurt.

Or worse.

I can't let that happen. Not when I have the skills to stop it. Even if it means putting myself at risk.

The wheels touch down with a jolt, startling me out of my thoughts. All around me, people start gathering their belongings, eager to deplane. I stay put, letting the aisle clear before I make my move. Less chance of accidental touching that way.

As I file off the plane, my phone buzzes again. Another message from Asher.

ASHER: Just realized I don't even know what you look like! How will we recognize you?

I'll find you.

I turn my phone off and put it in my pocket as I make my way through security. I still have some time before the meeting and the bar I chose isn't far from the airport, so I grab some stale coffee and a cinnamon roll before heading out.

My stomach is twisted up in so many knots the sweet bread just makes me nauseous, so I dump it in a trash can on my way out and head to my rental.

The entire drive, I'm still warring with myself over whether I want to go through with this. But Dark Asher is right about one thing.

I'm already hiding my true self. My identity. Other omegas like him and Rita are putting themselves out there every night. Putting themselves in danger.

For nearly a decade, I've been hunting the alphas who prey on us. The pieces of shit who think omegas just living our lives on our own terms are taking something away from them, and are willing to make us pay the price for that perceived crime.

People like the so-called family I ran from when I was only sixteen years old. People who would love to put me and every other omega back in the hellish prison I barely escaped.

If I don't take a stand now, what's the point of everything I've been doing? Best case scenario, it's a high-stakes game of whack-a-mole. One group gets shut down, another pops up. And the people in charge aren't doing shit, whether it's due to incompetence or the fact that secretly, it dovetails with their own agenda.

Maybe a little of both.

This is finally my chance to make a difference. To take on a high-profile case and make sure the consequences for Asher's attackers are so steep that anyone else will think twice before perpetuating a stunt like that again. At the very least, they'll know they won't be able to stay anonymous.

I've been in hiding for so long, protecting myself at every turn, in survival mode for so long that I forgot the whole reason I ran in the first place: Freedom.

Some things are worth taking a risk for. Fighting for.

And tonight, the real battle begins.