Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
Jack
My poor, amazing, broken omega. I’d never had to deal with emotions as strong and bitter as the ones that sank down on me as Quincy told his story, and in the aftermath, once he’d fallen asleep in my arms. It had to be irritating for him to nestle against me, what with post-heat aversion to touch, but some things went beyond the demands of biology.
Quincy needed me. I’d never been so certain of anything in my life. I’d thought the point of my existence was to be a good son, to do as my parents wanted me to, whether it made me happy or not, so that I would be in a position to contribute to society at large.
That was my old mission. My new one snored away in my arms, covered in tattoos, hair a bright and cheerful mop to hide the darkness inside, pierced through in several places, but nowhere near as painfully as his heart.
“What can I do?” I whispered softly against his hair, stroking his damp, tear-swollen face, fighting back tears of my own. “What can I do to help you?”
I didn’t have an answer. I wasn’t even sure there was an answer.
I’d learned more than I wanted to about what happened when a bond was broken.
Most of the people I’d interacted with had been severed when their mate died.
Ninety percent of the time, a bonded mate died of grief within a few weeks of their other half, but sometimes, especially if they were younger and possibly pregnant, they lived on as a shell of their former self.
I’d also seen a few omegas who, for whatever reason, went through the severing procedure without their alpha dying.
I remembered thinking it was horrifically unfair that the current procedure inflicted the lion’s share of the harm on the omega.
Severed alphas usually walked away from the procedure with nothing more than an inability to bond again.
I’d had my suspicions back when I was learning about the whole thing, just like I had my doubts now, that the procedure had been designed by alpha scientists to punish the omega for leaving when a different procedure could have been devised that went much easier on both mates.
I tried to push those thoughts out of my head. They were only upsetting me, and they weren’t going to help me help Quincy.
But how could I help him? The damage had already been done. The bond severing procedure was irreversible.
Before my thoughts could well and truly spiral, my phone buzzed on the table in the other part of the RV. I sighed, knowing it was probably my dad. He was undoubtedly furious with me.
There was no point in delaying the inevitable.
I eased away from Quincy, got up, and hurried into the other part of the RV to answer the call before Dad gave up.
Only it wasn’t my dad. It was someone named Nancy Miniver.
“Hello?” I answered, curiosity getting the best of me.
“Mr. Battenburg, hello! Nancy Miniver from the Norfolk Family Theater.”
My brow shot up. “Oh, hello, Ms. Miniver.”
“Nancy, please,” she said.
“Nancy,” I repeated her name.
“I guess you know why I’m calling,” she said in an excited voice.
“I, um, do I?”
“Yes. Your audition was outstanding, Mr. Battenburg. I don’t even need to see you at call-backs. I would love to give you a position in our troupe for the summer season. We’re doing South Pacific, and I would love to see you in the role of Emile.”
My heart throbbed and pinched with a dozen conflicting emotions. “Oh. Thank you. I—”
The sound of movement from the bedroom had me turning to see Quincy slowly pushing himself up from where he’d been lying face down. He looked so ragged that all I wanted to do was run to him.
“I wish I could, Ms. Miniver,” I said sincerely. “To be honest, I thought I would be able to fit a little theater into my schedule this summer, but it turns out that isn’t the case.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that,” Nancy said. “Are you sure you won’t change your mind?”
I bit my lip, wishing I could take the opportunity. It was everything I’d thought I wanted.
But I wanted to be a champion to my omega even more.
“I’m sure,” I sighed. “But thank you so much for the opportunity.”
We said our goodbyes, and I ended the call.
As soon as the ongoing call screen disappeared, I was faced with the home screen, which was lit up with red dot notifications.
“Jack?” Quincy called tentatively from the bedroom.
Without hesitation, I headed into the bedroom, but I clicked on my messaging app to see who all had been texting me and what they had to say.
My dad was pissed, of course. He wanted to know where I was and demanded that I return to Kincade Slopes at once.
I ignored the texts and put my phone down as I sat on the bed. Quincy’s aversion to touch was evidently gone. As soon as I opened my arms to him, he crawled to me and curled himself in my embrace.
And he started crying again.
I hated what had been done to him, and I hated the bastard who’d done it to him more than anything I’d ever known. Chester whoever he was had better hope he never came within ten miles of me.
“It’s okay,” I whispered against my omega’s head, kissing and stroking him. “I’ve got you.”
“I’m sorry I’m crying so much,” Quincy said, his voice absolutely miserable. “I’ll try to stop.”
“No, baby. You cry as much as you need to,” I insisted, rubbing his back, then tipping his face up to kiss away his tears.
“That shouldn’t feel so good,” he said, snotting as well, which I didn’t kiss. “I’m not supposed to be able to feel any connection with an alpha anymore.”
“Who told you that?” I asked, shifting so he could rest his head against my shoulder. We were both still naked, but it felt even better than if we’d been clothed.
“The doctors. After the procedure,” Quincy said.
“Well, that was a stupid assumption for them to make,” I said. “There are all sorts of connections that people have with each other. Omegas can actually be friends with alphas. There doesn’t have to be a bond involved. They can even fall in love with them.”
I was sure I’d taken things too far by saying that. Quincy sucked in a breath and was still for a second.
And what was I thinking, really? It had still been less than twenty-four hours, although it was getting close to dusk again now. Mate bonds aside, I couldn’t assume my feelings for Quincy were anything other than adrenaline and affinity.
Screw that. I was falling in love with him.
“How many times did your dad call you?” Quincy asked, muscling himself to sit on his own so he could look at me with baleful eyes.
I grinned sheepishly and tapped my phone a few times. “Looks like four,” I said.
“Only four?” Quincy asked with a watery smile.
I chuckled.
We sat there silently for a moment, studying each other.
I wanted so badly to believe that what Quincy and I had, even though it was brand new and feeble, could be enough to defy meta-biology and heal his ability to bond.
I wanted the force of my affection for him to be enough to make everything better.
It wasn’t going to happen. I was enough of a realist to know that.
“What are we going to do now?” I asked gently.
Quincy lowered his head. The sadness that radiated from him had my throat squeezing up.
He picked at the bedcovers and said, “I think we should go back.” A long, heavy pause followed before he glanced up at me and said, “This was so much fun, but we can’t really run away from our problems.”
“No, we can’t,” I agreed.
I reached out to still his picking hand, then turned it so we could slide our fingers together.
After everything we’d done in the last twenty-four hours, after all the fucking and near breeding orgasm, simply holding hands with Quincy, my heart going out to him, meeting each other’s eyes and seeing the care and the trust that had been so easy for us to form, was the most intimate act of all.
“Do you want to use that tiny little shower first?” I asked him at last. “I’m not sure I could even fit in it.”
Quincy laughed and lowered his head again, this time with a sense of relief, like the storm had passed. “Yeah, I’d better,” he said.
We got up and got a move on. Quincy tested out the tiny RV shower while I listened to my dad’s messages—all of them angry demands that I return to Kincade Slopes—then tidied up the bedroom.
I wasn’t able to take a shower once Quincy was done, but I was able to rinse off using a rag that I found in an overhead cupboard. It wasn’t nearly enough, but it was okay for the time being.
We drove back to Blue Knob Mountain mostly in silence. It wasn’t a defeated or a bad silence, though. A few times, I reached across so Quincy could hold my hand in the space between seats. I needed that hand to drive for too much of the trip, but I grasped his again whenever I could.
“I hope you’re not in too much trouble,” Quincy said once we were finally driving up the mountain to the lodge. “Your dad seems kind of awful.”
I huffed and smirked. “He’s a senator. Of course he’s awful.”
Quincy’s eyes went wide and his jaw dropped open a little. “Fuck. I know where I’ve seen him now. I’ve seen him on fucking TV. Your dad is Senator John Salisbury.”
“Yep,” I said, feeling my face heat.
“He’s running for governor. I’ve seen him on commercials.”
“He is running for governor,” I said with a slow nod, feeling a little sick.
“Fuck, Jack.” Quincy looked genuinely worried now. “Your dad is fucking John Salisbury, and he barged into our room in the middle of the night to make sure you were going through with the auction playtime.”
I winced. “Dad has very specific ideas of what alphas should be,” I said, though it wasn’t really much of an explanation.
“Well, he’s creepy and horrible,” Quincy said, sitting back in his seat and crossing his arms. “He’s not getting my vote.”
I almost laughed out loud as I turned into the parking lot for Kincade Slopes. It was still crowded, indicating the auction event was still going on. Of all the things, it was surreal that Quincy was so determinedly not going to vote for my dad in the fall elections.