Chapter Fifty-FiveJett #2
“Pretty much. You’re not from here?” she asked, shrugging off her jacket and hanging it from the chair.
“Came here to be pre-med at Rock Tech. Ended up being a cop.” I grinned. Spencer had attended there, too.
“Your parents were okay with that?” Hurt flashed in her eyes.
“Yeah, my parents were supportive–both of my career choice and me staying here.” Okay, one of my moms was a little sour about it at first, but she got over it.
“How many parents? Two? Four? Nine?”
“Nine?” I laughed. “Three dads, two moms. I also have six brothers–no sisters.”
“Wow, and I thought three was a lot.” She grinned.
“Oh, it is–most of them are alphas.” I rolled my eyes. “I have a shit-ton of aunties and cousins. My omega grandma is the matriarch. We all lived close. There were always people everywhere. One reason I don’t mind having Ri around is that I miss a houseful of chaotic teenagers.”
She laughed. “I hope you see them a lot. That sounds great.”
“It is, and I go back as much as I can. My moms love Evan. Stuff him full of dumplings,” I laughed.
“Mmmm, that sounds delicious. Can we check out the market sometime?” Her gaze went beyond the restaurant’s little plant fence.
“Absolutely.” I’d bring her back when Brennan was with us.
Grace was cute if tiny blonde girls were your thing. Usually, big dudes were my thing. Caroline didn’t do it for me, which was one of the many conflicts we’d had when she’d lived with us. But after seeing Grace’s tight little ass shake in class…
Yeah, I could be convinced.
An older server came over. She was one of the owner’s mates.
“What are you drinking?” she asked in Mandarin, giving Grace a once-over.
“Beer, please,” Grace replied in Mandarin.
I stared at her. So did the server.
“Sorry, my accent is bad,” she continued in Mandarin, head ducking.
“I understand you fine, what kind?” she replied.
“Whatever you have is fine,” Grace told her.
I ordered beer for the both of us. “Did you grow up on the West Coast, too? Because the guys all learned French and Spanish in school out here.”
She shook her head. “I’m pretty sure my doctoral cohort was mostly from China. I probably speak a weird dialect. Um, I think I learned Spanish in school, but I’m bad at it. Do you learn Chinese at school there?”
“Yeah, Mandarin or Russian, and Spanish, but we speak Mandarin at home. Some schools around where I grew up also taught indigenous languages.” I eyed her. “You’re remembering more? That’s great.”
Where exactly did she grow up again? Maybe she was homeschooled?
Grace shrugged. “I remember a lot more. But not anything important, like how I ended up on the park bench or a lot about my work. My love of tipsy karaoke isn’t vital.”
I leaned in as the server brought our beers. “I love karaoke. Do you need to reach out to your brothers, let them know you’re okay?”
“We haven’t talked in years. I don't think they care.” Grace squinted at the menu, and we ordered.
How sad. Had they seen her on the news? Her hitting the shooter with a chair had gone viral. Four siblings, six cousins, all of my parents, and nine aunties, had realized that was my pack and texted me, worried. Not that you got a really clear view of her face. But still…
“You did really well in class. Are you a dancer?” I asked.
“When I was a kid. I did dance, cheer, and tumbling. You know, that stuff.” She shrugged.
Called it.
“Any martial arts? I can teach you more than boxing. You mentioned cardio boxing?” I took a sip of beer.
“I… I remember that I took a bunch of self-defense classes.” She looked away, toying with her beer. “Just the kind offered at my college. I couldn’t afford to go anywhere else, so I took the basic classes over and over.”
“Great. Like what they teach omegas?” Which could be lethal. It was designed for small omega bodies back when omega kidnappings were a very frequent occurrence. It also made a good basis for other disciplines.
“Like the type they teach women so you don’t get attacked by sketchy dudes. It all depended on the teacher.” She looked away again and got that uncomfortable look on her face she sometimes had when talking about personal things.
The server brought our noodles. She also only brought chopsticks. Grace thanked her and opened the packet, digging in, though she held her chopsticks weirdly.
“How did you and Brennan meet?” Grace asked.
I frowned, unsure if Brennan would want me to tell her, since it was very personal. “That’s a story for another day.”
“That good?” She grinned. “How about when you met Evan?”
“They’re not too spicy, are they?” I asked.
“Not spicy enough.” Grace added a lot of chili sauce.
“Brennan and I had a destination wedding at one of his resorts. Because why not, right? His longtime friend Wes was coming. I’d met him a couple of times, military, clean cut, good at team sports, you know the type.” I grinned at her.
She grinned back. “Right, he played rugby in high school.”
“Bren was on the team with him. So, Wes was bringing his boyfriend, Evan, to the wedding. We hadn’t met him yet and were curious since they’d met in the military.
” I took a drink of beer. “What we didn’t know is that Wes’ boyfriend was an omega–and that they were actually mates who’d recently bonded.
They show up for the pre-party, and shit.
I did not know they made omegas that big. ” I chuckled, remembering that night.
Grace laughed. “Evan is a big dude.”
“Oh, I do like me a big dude. There was also something about him. Throughout the entire week of festivities, we kept finding reasons to talk to him.” Really, it was shameless of me to flirt with him like that.
Wes not punching me and Brennan attempting to flirt, too, only cemented that we could all be something together.
“I can imagine. Evan walked into the room at the Center, gave me a hug, and… it’s so stupid, but I felt like everything might be okay.” She smiled.
“Never thought I’d meet my omega at my wedding,” I laughed. “We thought we’d see if we’d work as a pack–and we did. Evan introduced us to Spencer, and everything fell into place. Now, here we are.”
My phone buzzed.
Evan
You’re out to eat with my girl?
“Evan’s jealous. We should send him a picture.” I sent him a picture of us with our beer and noodles along with a text.
Me
You can’t always be with her. Want your usual?
“Hey.” Brennan stood there, holding his helmet, still dressed for work. A few people gave him appreciative looks.
I was so lucky.
“These are so good.” Grace pointed to her almost empty bowl with her chopsticks.
“Hey, Honey.” I tugged him down for a kiss. “Want anything?”
He was frowning at Grace. “Why are you always wearing Evan’s clothes?”
What sort of question was that? She always wore his clothes for the same reason Evan always stole our stuff. It smelled right.
“Fine.” Frowning, Grace tugged off the shirt, so she was only in her sports bra, and threw it at him. Then she froze. Her chest shook, and her peach scent took on the burnt tang of fear.
“It’s okay.” Brennan’s voice went quiet, his expression softening, as he put out some soothing pheromones. “Grace, I wasn’t asking you to take it off. I was just surprised. I’d think you’d like Wes’ stuff better. Here.”
With a tenderness I hadn’t seen him show her before, he took the shirt and put it back on her–but not before I saw the angry, raised scars crisscrossing her back.
Shit.
“I like his fashion sense.” She sniffed, ducking her head.
“Which is fair,” I pointed out. Wes tended not to care about his clothes, while Evan could be a snappy dresser when he wanted.
Brennan moved my stuff off the chair next to me and sat down. “You don’t need to be ashamed of your scars.”
“I’m not, just aware that they bother others.” Her shoulders rounded as she put her jacket back on and pulled it around herself.
Sure. We should work on her confidence.
The server came over and looked at Brennan and asked in English, “Are you eating?”
“I’d like a pot of tea and number three with pork,” he said.
I also ordered Evan’s noodles to go.
Brennan looked at Grace’s bowl and shook his head. “That just looks spicy.”
“I’m going to find the restroom.” Grace left and went inside.
“Was she in a car accident?” I asked him softly, polishing off my beer. That's how Brennan got his scars.
Brennan shook his head. “It’s how they made her forget that Wes was real.”
I sucked in air sharply through my teeth. “That’s fucked up. How is that even legal?”
“It probably isn’t.” His look turned grim.
The server brought a pot of tea and cups for everyone. Brennan poured all of us tea, putting one at Grace’s empty place.
“Remember how I had someone investigate her?” His voice was quiet as he looked into his cup.
“Oh right, I’d forgotten you’d done that? What did you find?” I frowned, because we’d been having a good night. Yesterday at the pizza arcade was fun, too.
“Her record has been altered–and apparently has the fingerprints of something called the Omega Protection Program all over it. At first I was angry, because I knew she was hiding something. Then the investigator explained what it was and why I should leave it alone or ask Grace directly. I didn’t even know such a thing existed. ” He took a sip, looking pensive.
“Oh. I don’t know much about it, other than it’s similar to witness protection.
They’re usually getting omegas out of fucked up situations.
It would explain the holes in her stories, the inconsistencies, and why things feel weird.
It might even explain why Wes couldn’t find her.
That’s been bothering me,” I said quietly, thinking over the ramifications.
“Could be. My guess, based on the few things I know about her, is that maybe when her family disowned her, things went sideways and she ended up in the program?” He turned the cup around in his hands. “I don’t know. But it would explain a lot.”
“Yeah, and her mom’s death caused her to come out of it, thinking she was safe. For all we know, her concussion and being on the run had nothing to do with her research, and everything to do with her family. Those scars.” I shook my head.
Brennan nodded. “Can you imagine someone hurting you so badly you thought your mate was a dream?”
I winced at the thought. “That sounds awful.”
“Grace and Evan seem to love each other, as do her and Wes. At the very least, I should try. For them. As long as we continue to have no fear of her being a danger to the pack, of course.” He took a sip of tea.
“Sounds good to me.” I finished my noodles. I mean, she was bonded to Wes and Evan. Spencer looked at her like he wanted to gobble her up.
Yeah, Grace wasn’t going anywhere.
Brennan took a bite of noodles and made a face. “Ooh, I forgot to ask for negative spicy.”
“Did you close on the estate?” I asked.
“Pending the final inspection. Terrance thinks it’s a mistake,” he added. “That an event venue won’t add to the brand portfolio and it won’t be profitable.”
“But you don’t think it’s a mistake–and that’s what’s important,” I told him.
While his business partner was good at the details, he wasn’t the visionary my husband was.
I looked towards the restaurant. Where was she? “Hey, she was playing Volkov when I came home.”
“Probably not as good as me.” He smirked.
I shrugged. Like I would know. “It was fast. We should bring her to concerts.”
“It’s still hard, having someone strange in my house. Not knowing much about her–and now not being sure if I should even ask, given how much she’s been through. Also, what danger could she bring to us?” he huffed.
“True. I worry about who might be after her. Should we up our security?” I asked. We had alarms and cameras, but we were due for a security audit.
“I’ll leave that to you and Wes.” He frowned and looked around. “Where did she go? She’s been gone awhile.”
It was a little amusing watching Brennan try to protect us from Grace, while his alpha instincts clearly wanted to protect her, too.
She came out holding a bowl to her chest, a smug look on her face as she sat down.
“What is that?” Brennan eyed the bowl.
“Fried ice cream.” Her eyes danced. “Want some?”
Brennan looked skeptical.
“Please.” I took a bite, the batter was hot and crispy, the inside cool and creamy, the chocolate sauce adding contrast.
He shook his head. “I’m not really into sweets.”
Grace dug into her dessert. She pushed the bowl back to him. “Sure you don’t want a bite?”
“Ooh, I want another.” I opened my mouth, and she fed me one.
“I guess.” Frowning, he took a small bite. His head cocked. “Huh. I like the outside.”
“You would,” I laughed.
We finished up and I paid. We weren’t charged for the ice cream.
“Come back soon,” one of the young servers waved at Grace.
“Can I drive home?” she asked me, holding Evan’s order, as we walked to my bike.
“When we get closer to home,” I climbed on. “Could you even get home from here?”
“Probably not. I should review the road rules here.” She pulled on her helmet and got on behind me, holding tight, like she belonged here.
While I wasn’t sure Grace belonged in my bed, she belonged with our pack. I just hoped that her past didn’t catch up to her and break everyone’s hearts.