18. Simon
Chapter eighteen
"You're sure?" Cyrus asks through the phone. "Jordan doesn't own anything in her name?"
"I'm sure," I tell him, rolling my eyes. A car honks its horn as it speeds by me, challenging some pedestrians who decided to jaywalk. I straddle my bike as I look up at the glass building. "No sign of where she works either," I tell him. "But the guys are on it. We'll have something soon."
"It's been three months. This is ridiculous. She shouldn't be so hard to find."
That's the thing.
She's not.
I've known where she's been this entire time.
I've kept tabs on her since I joined the Hawks, and Nitro and Clicks have helped me keep track of her. Jordan Cross is also known as Jordan Knight, an executive at Hurry Up and Grow, the top advertising firm in the city. While Cross is her legal name, she has an independent LLC under her Knight name, keeping all her money and property attached to that one. I'm not sure why. According to the filings, Knightmare, LLC is a marketing, public relations, and advertising firm owned by Jordan Cross, DBA Jordan Knight.
Jordan has always been brilliant, and I can't help but think this was a way for her to live in Lunarcrest without us knowing.
But maybe that's self-centered thinking.
"I know you're stressed, C," I tell my packmate. Ex-packmate? I'm not sure anymore. We haven't had that conversation yet. The bond feels the same as it always did. We're all living together, functioning well as a group, but we're still splintered without Jordan. "But we'll find her. I can feel it. It's going to be soon."
I hang up on him and recline back against my bike. I wonder if she's liked my gifts. I didn't sign them, but I think she'll know they're from me. I want her to know that I care about her, I always have, and I've always wanted her as my Omega.
I want her to know that I'm an idiot for going along with the guys' plan for lying to her, and I should've just said fuck it and been with her, just the two of us.
And now that I know she's my scent match, but I don't know what she smells like? I'm nearly feral to get near her.
Which is why I'm sitting outside Hurry Up and Grow, anxiously tapping my foot, waiting for her to come to work. She hasn't been in all week, and I'm worried.
What if she's hurt?
What if she's sick?
I wait outside all day, working myself up into a tizzy.
My girl is not here. She has missed an entire week of work. It's Thursday. Where the fuck has she been?
I pace the sidewalk, running my fingers through my greasy hair, which is in need of a dye job. What if something has happened to her? How would I know? What if she's sick and dying and won't ever know how much I love her?
Fuck it.
I throw my leg over my bike and hastily strap on my helmet, taking off at a breakneck speed towards her condo. I've been here several times, hiding just out of sight of her fifth-floor windows, to feel close to her. The path is engrained in me, as familiar as the ride to club headquarters.
I'm in a fugue state that is only broken when the door I'm banging on gets ripped open by a handsome but tired-looking Alpha wearing only a pair of sweats. His hair is messy, and his dark green eyes shine despite how exhausted he looks. Instantly, I feel comfortable around this man, despite not knowing him or why the fuck he's in my girl's condo.
A fresh bite mark glistens on his neck, and I feel my stomach bottom out.
"You…" I mumble, my eyes unable to escape the grip of the glistening scar of tiny teeth marks. "Where's Jordan?"
Pain lights up my entire body as I stumble backward and slump against the wall, blood draining from my nose.
"You're one of them!" he hisses. "Get the fuck away. She wants nothing to do with you. Leave Jordan alone."
The unfamiliar Alpha leers aggressively over me. I'm no stranger to a fight. I've never been known to shy away from one. But when I look at him, with his beautiful bonding mark that I'm starting to realize I will never have, the fight leaves me.
"I'm sorry," I say quietly. "I just want to see her. I'm worried about her."
"She's not yours to worry about." He backs away from me with a strange look on his face. "She's my Omega. You three broke her heart. She wants nothing more to do with you."
My chest rips in two, even if the words aren't coming from her mouth. "But she's our scent match."
His body tenses, and he bristles, baring his teeth at me. "She's my scent match. You already have one."
It takes a minute for his words to register. It takes even longer for me to identify that strange feeling in my gut. It's been so long since I've felt it.
"You're… pack," I say quietly. I clear my throat and rise to my feet. "You're pack."
He huffs, crossing his arms over his sculpted chest and opening his mouth to argue. But no words come out. I know he feels it. The draw to a packmate is inexplicable, something in our DNA pushing us together. I didn't recognize it at first because it's been a decade and a half since I felt a new one, but there's no denying that's what this is.
I don't know this man, but every part of me tells me I need to. There is no doubt that this man is pack. His being scent matched to Jordan confirms it.
Eventually, his voice comes back. "No. I am not pack. Jordan is not yours. You need to leave."
He moves to close the door when I hear a beautiful, light voice calling, "Alpha, who's at the door?"
My heart stops at the voice I've longed to hear for thirteen years.
"No one," he replies with clipped words, trying to close the door. I wedge my foot in it, wincing when he tries to slam it. "Get lost," he hisses at me.
"Let me talk to her, please," I beg, my voice tight with tears. "Please, I just need to see her and know she's okay."
Suddenly, the door flies open, and I lock eyes with the woman I have been in love with for over half my life.
Jordan's wavy, red hair is gathered on top of her head in a messy bun, and a loose, grey sweater that looks softer than sin hangs off her shoulder. Her long legs are bare, and a tiny pair of shorts barely stick out of the hem of her sweater.
And her scent.
Fuck.
It hits me like a tidal wave.
Peach milkshakes.
From the first time we were allowed to go to the diner on our own, we couldn't have been more than eleven, she ordered peach milkshakes. That's why I've always called her peaches.
Seeing her, her jaw slack, her eyes wide, takes me to my knees. Tears join the blood traveling down my face as I stare up at the woman I loved and lost.
I've wondered if she'd recognize me after all these years. With the hair and the tattoos, I'm a far cry from the boy who left her.
But I shouldn't have worried.
Her soul knows mine. It always has.
"Simon," she says quietly. I can't place the tone. Is she happy to see me? Sad? Angry? I don't care how she feels – I just want to be on the receiving end of her attention. "Chocolate malt," she mutters, shaking her head. "Chocolate malt."
My milkshake order.
What's the likelihood we both smell like our milkshake orders to one another if we weren't always meant to be together?
She was destined to be mine.
"Peaches," I whisper, moving forward on my knees closer to her. She doesn't step back but slides behind the Alpha in the doorway. "I missed you so much."
"No."
I stop moving even though every part of me wants to grab her, to bite her, to make it to where I'm never without her again. "No?"
"You don't get to do this. You don't get to break my heart, leave me, and suddenly appear the day I present as an Omega." She shakes her head, taking a step back into her condo. "You already have an Omega. Go be with them. That's what you wanted. Beta Jordan was never enough for you."
The day she presented as an Omega? There's too much going on at once to process that, so I file it away for later before I fight to refute her last statement.
"That's not how it was!" My voice cracks. "Please, you just have to hear me out."
The Alpha has been silent until now, letting Jordan handle herself, but now he steps fully in front of her. "Leave my Omega alone. Go live your life. Don't bother us again."
"Jordan, please! We're meant to be together. Even your Alpha. He's pack, Jordan!"
Her retreating form stops, but she doesn't turn around to look at me. Instead, she directs her words to the Alpha blocking the doorway. "Is that true, Vick?"
He takes a deep breath and scrubs his hand down his face. Briefly, I wonder if he will lie to her and say no.
But he doesn't.
Because clearly, this Vick is a man of honor. Everything he's done so far has proven he's worthy of Jordan.
The man I couldn't be for her.
"I think so," he says softly. His eyes harden as he stares me down. "But that doesn't matter to me one fucking bit."
"Leave me alone, Simon." I'm unsure if I've ever heard Jordan's voice so sharp. Her shoulders are tense, her hands fisted at her side. "Quit sending me gifts. You three made me question my mind. You made me feel like I was insane."
Of course, I knew it was going to hurt her. I knew it was going to break her heart. But I didn't think it would hurt her like that. I didn't know she'd question her sanity.
"Jordan, please. Just call me. We can work this out," I beg. "My number is at the bottom of the box the necklace came in. Please, peaches, let me explain."
She shakes her head, silent tears brimming in her eyes. But she's too strong to let them fall. "Simon, if you ever cared about me, leave me alone. This is too hard for me. It's not fair."
Vick steps backward and shakes his head, closing the door in my face.
I wonder if, inside the condo, they can hear my heart shattering.