49. Icarus
Chapter forty-nine
Athena squints at me over her coffee while I worry a napkin between my fingers. "And you think it was a good idea, going forward with trying to go after them with a lawyer?"
"What else are we supposed to do?" My shoulders slump as I stare at the half-drunk mug of chamomile in front of me. "She's devastated. She loved her job. The least we can do is try to get her a severance so that pressure is gone while she figures out what to do from there."
"It doesn't seem like you have much of a case, Icky, and I worry you're getting her hopes up." My sister flicks her braid over her shoulder before leaning onto her elbows. "She's fragile. She may shatter if this doesn't go well."
"Jordan is stronger than you give her credit for," I insist firmly. "She will come out on top of this. She's not just some delicate Omega."
"God, Icarus, I wasn't implying that. But she's had a weird couple of months. Anyone would be feeling unmoored in her position." She hands her empty mug to the waiter who comes by to check on us, smiling at him. He blushes and scurries away. "All I'm saying is that her life is vastly different than it was this time last year, and this could be the straw that breaks the horse's back."
"Is that the saying? I think it's a camel. I believe the saying has origins in the Middle East, and camels are most com-"
"Icky, fuck. Stop with the info dump," she groans, interrupting my speech. "I get that you're worried, but I do not want to be on the receiving end of another one of your lectures."
A twinge of pain in my chest has all of my words drying up. I like sharing knowledge with others. It gives me something to contribute to a conversation, especially if I'm feeling anxious.
And if I'm anything right now, it's anxious.
I am concerned about Jordan. While she is strong, and I know whatever happens, we will weather this storm together and come out on top, it doesn't stop me from imagining the worst-case scenario.
My phone rings, yanking me from my thoughts, and I rip it out of my pocket, hoping it's Jordan, but I don't recognize the number.
"Hello?"
"Dr. Valentine?"
I struggle to place the feminine voice on the other end of the phone. "Speaking. Who is this?"
"It's Crystal, Dr. Talbot's assistant."
Athena raises her eyebrows in question, and I shake my head, turning my shoulder towards her and facing the blank wall beside our table to drown out the chaos around me. "Crystal, this is a surprise. How can I help you?"
Her voice is frantic. "Please don't report me. I can't lose this job."
"Woah, woah, report you for what?"
"That woman in the picture on your desk, she's your Omega, right?"
I slowly rise to my feet and pull a few bills out of my wallet, putting them on the table, mouthing "I gotta run" to Athena. She nods and blows me a kiss as I turn and rush out of the door.
"She is, why?"
"Well, she's here. With Dr. Talbot. And I lied and said I had to go grab some research so I could come out here and call you because I thought you should know, and I know this is breaking so many rules, and I could lose my license and get fired, but you have to know-"
"Crystal. Take a deep breath. Why is my Omega there?" I can barely keep the growl out of my breath as I climb into my car, already heading to the Clinic. I don't know why Jordan is there, but I know I need to be, too.
"She's asked him if there is any way to deactivate that Omega gene you found."
I'm pretty sure my heart stops. My breathing switches to manual, and I have to force myself to calm down so I don't wreck my car on the way there.
"Dr. Valentine?" Crystal's voice echoes through the car speakers. "Are you still there? Did you hear me?"
"I heard you. Thank you for letting me know. I am on my way. Please, don't let her leave." I hang up before she can respond, my mind reeling.
What in the world is she thinking? You can't deactivate a gene like that. And why would she want to? All she's ever wanted was to be an Omega.
I fire off a text to the guys at a stoplight.
I received a call from a colleague. Jordan is at the clinic trying to get them to deactivate the Omega gene.
Simon
They can't do that
Tell me they can't do that
No, they can't. But I am concerned about the implication of this.
Rafe
Ditto. What do you need from us?
Cyrus
Let's just get home. I don't want to bombard her at the clinic.
Russ, we'll meet you at home. Give us a heads up on what we can expect or if we need to do anything before you get here.
The drive to the clinic has never taken so long. By the time I get there, I'm a wreck, my hands shaking so much I can barely get my key out of the ignition.
I follow the familiar path to Dr. Talbot's office, my steps faltering when I realize I have no excuse for being here. I could inadvertently out Crystal for revealing Jordan's visit.
Do I knock on the door, pretending I was here working and had a question for him?
Do I wait until Jordan comes out and intercept her before she can leave alone?
I'm wringing my hands, pacing in the hallway, when the decision is taken out of my hands.
"There must be something you can do!" Jordan's voice echoes in the hallway. The door to Walter's office opens slowly, and I glimpse him holding it half open.
"I apologize, Ms. Cross, but there is no deactivating a gene. We could put you on suppressants to hold off your heat. Those work for about a decade."
Moving slightly around the corner so neither of them see me, I'm not ashamed to admit I eavesdrop on their very loud conversation.
"I don't want to be suppressed. I want to go back to how things were. Being an Omega is too much. I lost my job. My life has been completely upended. My best friend betrayed me. I –" her words hitch with a sob, and I grip the wall to keep from rushing forward to gather her in my arms.
"I just expected this to be so different."
Walter freezes, looking around anxiously. I doubt he has any more of an idea of what to do with a crying Omega than I would. But this crying Omega is mine, and I can't sit by and listen to her when she is in so much pain.
Stepping around the corner with purpose, I lock eyes with Dr. Talbot. "Oh, Walter, I was just coming to see you!"
"Vick?" Jordan's voice floats through the open door. "What are you doing here?"
Walter pushes the door open, giving me an unobstructed view of the woman I love. Her face is red, and her eyes are swollen, but she still looks like a vision in front of me.
"I was here to pick up some research. What are you doing here, Jordan?" I push into the room and drop to my knees in front of her. "What's going on, sunshine?"
"She was here about the Omega gene," Walter supplies.
"What happened to doctor-patient confidentiality?" she snarls.
Walter looks regretful when he replies, "It doesn't apply between an Omega and their Alpha. Legally, I have to tell him if he asks."
"Of course, it doesn't!" she shouts, jumping to her feet so quickly I fall on my ass. "Why would it? I thought that the whole Perfect Omega trial was a farce because why would it even make it that far in the legal system? Arguing her personhood in court was fucking moronic. But I guess I see it now. I don't have rights to a job unless the company is comfortable hiring an Omega. God forbid I don't tell people I'm one." Her hands shake as she clenches her fists against her thighs.
Her red hair is pulled tight in a severe bun, and she's dressed like she's on her way to a boardroom. What was her plan? To somehow turn the gene off, march back to HUG, and demand her job back?
"Jordan, why don't we head home and talk through this?" I reach for her hand, but she yanks it away.
"Oh yes, the poor little Omega can't decide for herself and needs her Alpha to help her."
I show her my palms and step back. "That's not at all what I'm saying, Jordan. But as Dr. Talbot explained, we can't turn the gene off. I meant, let's head home and talk about how you're feeling. Maybe we'll call Dr. K on the way?"
Mentioning her therapist has her body deflating and sagging back in her chair. Her glassy eyes blink at me, and I rush to gather her in my arms. "I thought all of my problems would be solved if I presented. Why does it feel like I've lost all control of my life?"
Walter clears his throat, looking massively uncomfortable, and I scoop Jordan under her knees and carry her bridal style out of his office and to my car as I speak. "I don't know, my love, but your frustration is valid. This has been a strange, chaotic time for you, and I don't blame you for thinking things would be easier if you still presented as a Beta."
I quietly slip past a nervous-looking Crystal, who ducks her chin respectfully as we pass. I'm very grateful to the Omega for calling me. Who knows where Jordan would've ended up if she didn't?
"But," I say gently. "Even if we could deactivate the gene, being around the four of us would most likely reactivate it. You'd have to leave us for it to stick."
She chews her lip and avoids eye contact. I try not to read into it, but it's obvious.
She knew that and was trying to deactivate the gene anyway,
Placing her gently in the passenger seat and buckling her in, I walk around the back of the car slowly to give myself a moment to breathe and process.
My Omega was going to leave me. She is so frustrated at being an Omega that she was willing to give me up.
No.
I need to stop these thoughts before they spiral. This had nothing to do with me. Jordan is struggling, and she was thinking about how to improve it. It was not personal.
My phone buzzes with a text message.
Simon
Do you have her?
I'm worried
Please check in
Cyrus
She deconstructed her nest. Packed it all up, Russ.
She did what? Her entire nest?
Rafe
And all of the clothes we bought.
Tell me you have her.
On our way.
I store my phone in my back pocket and climb into the driver's seat.
It's a quiet trip to the condo, with Jordan looking out the window blankly the entire ride. Once I park, I'm surprised she lets me carry her into the elevator and through the front door.
My eyes catch on the diner painting before landing on the three men who lived that painting with her.
My packmates.
Simon is pacing frantically, green hair sticking out at all angles, and his eyes are red from crying. Almost the polar opposite, Rafe is rigid, his body coiled tight and his face expressionless as he stares directly at me. He looks like he's barely hanging on by a thread, a teddy bear clutched tightly in his right hand.
But it's Cyrus that surprises me most of all.
The massive Alpha looks nearly feral, his hair wild around his face like a mane, his skin splotchy and glistening in sweat. He stalks towards me, reaching out and making grabbing motions towards Jordan.
"Give her to me," he says roughly. "Please."
I look down at my Omega and silently ask if she wants to go. All at once, her emotions come rushing through the bond, her fear, despair, and resignation nearly making my knees buckle.
How did I not realize she'd been blocking me from feeling her?
Jordan nods, just in case the acceptance I feel through the bond wasn't enough to let me know she is okay with me passing her off to Cyrus.
He gently lifts her from my arms and holds her to his chest, heading towards the bedroom and the newly emptied-out nest.