28. Simon
Chapter twenty-eight
"Can you put it over there?" I ask the tattooed Alpha. Chase raises an eyebrow at me and then rolls his eyes, setting up the serving dish and heating element on the opposite counter.
"Remember how you told me about my one freebie when I was carrying my traumatized Omega into your safe house?" Chase is Joey's packmate and an acquired taste. Since his restaurant, Bea's Kitchen, purchased Roberto's, and Joey took over managing it, it's become an unofficial Hawk meeting ground. So I've seen a lot of Chase in the past year and had some time to grow used to his surly attitude.
"Hey, it wasn't my house." I raise my hands. "Nitro made that call."
"Joey's dad can suck a dick," he grumbles, tossing the foil that covered the last dish. "You know he still hasn't met Nora?"
"I mean… do you want him to?" I glance at my cut hanging on a hook by the door.
I love the club.
Really, I do.
But I don't know if I want Jordan anywhere near it.
Chase shrugs, ruffling his bleached hair. He's got bags under his eyes, making him look paler than usual. He brought the food here on his way home for the evening so he didn't have to spare the catering staff, but maybe he should've gone straight home because he looks like he's about to fall over. "No, I don't think I would right now."
I can't ignore the way his body sways. "You alright there?"
"Yeah," he says in a husky voice. "I'm just exhausted. Nora is not sleeping, which means I can't fucking sleep either. I think I've gotten four hours in three days."
"She keeping you up?" I've only met Nora in passing at Roberto's, but she doesn't seem like the type to force someone to be up with her.
"Pregnancy is no joke," he gripes, leaning against the wall. "Don't get me wrong, we're all stoked to have a kid. But man. She needs to sleep."
Rafe comes wandering into the kitchen, inhaling deeply. "Shit, it smells good in here."
Chase smirks. "Thank you very much. I can't take the full credit, though. Nora helped with the recipe."
"Wait, Nora, as in Perfect Omega Nora?" Rafe asks, looking at me. "Do you know the whole pack?"
"Joey's family," I say with a shrug, like that explains it enough.
It must to Chase because he nods sharply. "Right, I'm out. Good luck." Right before he opens the door, he looks over his shoulder at me and Rafe. "Take it from someone who fucked up a lot with their Omega – you've gotta make an impact. Don't tell her you've changed. Show her." His eyes get a little glazed, and a faraway look flashes across his face. "You don't know what can happen. Don't wait. You don't want to leave things unsaid."
We stare at the door Chase exited out of, his words swirling around us. Rafe sighs. "She was kidnapped, right?"
"Yeah," I say quietly. "During dinner with Chase. He was nearly feral when they got to the safe house. I think I have an idea of why now." I go to the bar cart and start making a drink, Rafe trailing behind me
Rafe's dark hair is slicked back and out of his face. He's wearing a black T-shirt that clings to his lithe frame and dark jeans. He looks handsome and dangerous, starkly contrasting the slacks and button-ups he wears into the office daily.
It hits me.
"You're dressed like you used to in high school."
He shrugs, not denying it. "It felt like the right thing to do."
"What did?" Cyrus asks, turning the corner into the sitting room. He's got on jeans and an impossibly tight grey shirt.
"I must've missed the memo to cosplay as my teenage self," I grumble, taking in my own appearance. It's not that I dressed up, but I ditched the stained jeans and cut for light-washed jeans and a black button-down. I rolled the sleeves up, and some of my more colorful tattoos are on display. "Maybe I should grab my glasses and take my contacts out," I mutter.
"Nah, you'd have to bleach all that green out of your hair," Rafe quips, ruffling my hair. It's an intimate gesture that does something to me I am not in the headspace to examine.
My hair has been bright green for years, and I never considered the possibility that Jordan might not like it. She doesn't even know me as Slime. To her, I'm still Simon.
Before I have the chance to loose myself in a cosmetic anxiety spiral, the doorbell rings.
We exchange nervous glances, playing chicken to see who will answer the door. Cyrus gulps and opens the door quickly. I see Jordan and Icarus standing side by side, his arm tightly around her waist.
Icarus is handsome, with dishwater blonde hair and deep, dark green eyes. The way he holds himself, his posture, makes it clear that he's a doctor. Intelligence and confidence ooze from him. He's got his hair neatly styled and is wearing a navy short-sleeved button-up with khaki slacks, making me feel less out of place in my outfit.
But he's not what caused my heart to skip a beat.
Jordan's red hair falls past her shoulders in pretty waves that frame her face. She's wearing a little makeup, but it must not be a lot because the freckles that decorate her face are still visible. She has a pair of wide-legged black slacks with a tight, slate-blue top tucked into them. I'm not sure if this is how she dresses for work or not, but fuck she looks incredible.
She looks mostly the same as in high school, just slimmer and maybe a little haunted.
Or perhaps that's just my guilt being reflected.
I realize we've all been staring at one another, with no one saying anything for a long moment. I surge forward. "Hey, Jordan, Icarus, thanks for coming."
Icarus clears his throat and holds his hand out to shake mine. "Thanks for having us."
Jordan doesn't say anything. She just darts her gaze between each of us. Now that I've moved closer, I can see the bite mark from her bonding with Icarus and smell her sweet, creamy peach scent. It makes my head feel a little fuzzy.
Rafe clears his throat. "Do you two want some drinks? Cocktail? Whiskey? Wine?"
Icarus looks down at Jordan, who is looking a little green. "You want a drink, sunshine?" When she looks up at him, adoration in her eyes, like he's her sun, moon, and safety, jealousy twists my gut.
She used to look at me like that.
My Omega nods, and Icarus turns his gaze back to Rafe. "Red wine for Jordan, a neat whiskey for me, would be great."
Cyrus gestures for the couch, his broad shoulders tense. "Have a seat."
This is so fucking uncomfortable. It's like an interrogation. A hostage situation.
We used to all be in sync, a team. Now we're strangers.
Icarus leads Jordan to the couch and lowers himself, pulling her into his side. She still hasn't spoken, her hands wringing in front of her with nerves.
Cyrus sits on one of the chairs across from them, elbows resting on his knees. "Jordan, I want to start by saying I am so-"
"No."
Her voice rings out loud and clear in the room.
"We just want to ap-"
"I said no." The words are sharp, like the crack of a whip. "I do not want to hear your apologies." Rafe returns to the room and stands awkwardly in the doorway, holding their drinks. Jordan levels each of us with a look. "Because you're only sorry because I am an Omega. Your scent match. If I weren't those things, you wouldn't be sorry."
"That's kind of unfair, peaches," I begin.
"Don't call me that."
It's a knife in my gut, but I don't protest. I deserve this. "None of us liked what we were doing, is all I was going to say."
She jumps to her feet, startling all of us. Looking down over her shoulder, she addresses Icarus. "I knew this was a bad idea. We should go."
"No," Cyrus barks. Instantly, her body freezes, and she grits her teeth at the massive Alpha.
"Do not fucking bark at me, Cyrus Stargazer. You did this. Not me." She goes to move, and Icarus grabs her wrist. When she looks down at him as if he personally betrayed her, he releases his grip and sighs.
"You need to hear them out, sunshine."
"No! I don't! I don't need to retraumatize myself. Dr. K said I don't have to. That I don't need to."
"Dr. K also said you need to consider the long-term effects of denying this and consider that what may be uncomfortable and difficult now could make for an easier future," Icarus responds calmly.
Jordan wrinkles her nose while she looks at her Alpha and moves to say something before Rafe interrupts.
"Who's Dr. K?"
The answers come at once from the Valentines.
"No one."
"Her therapist."
If looks could kill, Icarus would be six feet under. "You have no right, Vick," she snarls.
"Shouldn't they know the extent of the trauma they caused?" he responds quietly. "Dr. K is a part of that. Didn't you want them to know what it was like? What happened?"
Her hands shake a little as she gnaws her lower lip. "I changed my mind. I can't. It's too much being around them. After all the texting and the video call, I thought I could handle it, but I can't."
Video call? Who did she video call?
Icarus stands up and looks at us. "I need a moment with my Omega," he says, placing a hand on her lower back and leading her through the dining room into the kitchen. I can hear whispered voices but cannot make out what they're saying.
Not that I'm trying to eavesdrop or anything.
"This is going fucking swimmingly," Cyrus says, burying his face in his massive hands.
"I'm a little surprised that Icarus appears to be on our side," I say. "Last time we saw him, it was not great."
"He loves her. He doesn't want her to be sick," Rafe responds, setting the two glasses he'd been holding on the coffee table and perching on the arm of my chair. I pull my legs up underneath me as he lowers his voice. "I'm concerned about what we're going to learn tonight."
"It's not going to be good." After a deep breath, I continue. "I don't think we realize the extent of what she went through."
Jordan and Icarus reenter the room, settling down on the couch. Jordan is as close as she can be to the Alpha without sitting in his lap. She picks up her glass of wine and takes a hearty sip before returning it to the tabletop.
There is a hardness to her that wasn't there when we were kids, and I can't help but think it came from us. A darkness passes over her features as she folds her hands on her lap.
"I do not need an explanation from you three. It is clear to me at this point that you lied about finding your scent match. So let's skip over that." With a final encouraging nod and squeeze to her hip from Icarus, Jordan locks eyes with me. "It's time you see what you broke."