33. Joey
33
Joey
It's been nearly a month since I've seen my little bird.
Nearly a month since our pack has been anything close to sane.
Everyone is worried about Chase. None of us were there when she was taken, so we can't possibly understand what happened.
All of us have wondered, quietly and out loud, how Chase ever could've let this happen. All four of us were convinced that we would've stopped it if we had been the one there.
Once, Blaine accused him of selling her out to get her away from our pack.
A lot of blood was shed over that one.
He's barely left one of the restaurants since it happened. He's hardly speaking, working himself to the bone. Chain smoking and biting off the head of anyone who dares to speak to him.
I don't know what to do with him.
We were best friends before he invited me to join his pack. Betas in packs aren't as much of a thing anymore, especially considering there are plenty of Beta women with whom there is no reason to have to share.
But that kind of thing never bothered me. I wanted a pack, that family. It's nice to know that someone always has my back, that I have four other sets of eyes to keep watch, and that I have extra hands to take care of the woman I love.
The woman that is so incredible that she can hold the love of five men.
That's what this is, regardless of if those stupid Alphas won't admit it. I'll have no problem telling her as soon as I see her. I love Nora. I do.
The door to the office I use in the back of Bea's slams open. "Get out to the bar, asshole," Chase grumbles, pushing his way into the room. "They need a manager on the floor right now, and I'm not fucking feeling it."
"And I am?" I say, looking up at the plain white ceiling. "Why do we have can lighting in here? Can't we spring for some mood lighting like we got on the floor?"
Chase sits on top of the desk. "You're in here thinking about lightning?"
"No, fucker, I'm sitting here thinking about Nora and trying to distract myself so I don't go insane. How am I supposed to ever think about anything different?"
He stiffens at her name. He struggles when anyone mentions her.
"Chase, buddy, you've gotta talk about this," I say softly. "You're going to explode, you're so bottled up."
Chase shakes his head, hands in tight fits. "Nothing to say."
"You can't play it like this, Chase. We're going to get her back."
"It's been weeks, Joey. Why hasn't she found a way to get to us?" He aggressively scrubs his hands down his face. "She could've found a way to at least get us a message. And she never snuck out to meet Nolan like he asked her to in the note he gave the cop."
I shake my head. "Maybe she never got it. Maybe her mom intercepted it."
"He's a detective, dude, no way he couldn't get it to her," he says bitterly.
This feels half-hearted compared to his protestations about her being a manipulator. His heart isn't in this. I think deep down he knows that she wouldn't do that to us.
I stand up, pulling on my leather jacket. "We need to go home, Chase. It's the 15th."
"I'm not watching that fucking interview. I can't sit there and listen to her talk about how she found so much better than us," he spits.
"Your pack needs you for this, Chase. It's hard for all of us."
He laughs, shaking his too-long hair. He needs a cut, his dark roots almost the same length as his bleached ends. He's got deep purple bags under his eyes, and I can't remember the last time I saw him eat.
"Please, consider coming home for this, Chase. None of us are okay."
I leave him there to stew in his sadness. Chase has never been good about accepting help. I wish he would just admit how he's feeling.
The bike ride to the house is quick, and I find all of the guys sitting in the living room, holding rocks glasses. There is a bottle of whiskey in the middle of the table that they've already put a dent on. "No Chase, I see?" Nolan says tersely. "Not that I'm surprised."
"I'm still not convinced he didn't set her up," Blaine says. He's not shaved since we lost her, his face scraggly and unkempt. He's barely showering, staying up all night working, and I doubt he gets much sleep anymore.
Levi hardly speaks at all. They put him on administrative leave at the school. He swings his head to Blaine and shrugs, then dips his face back to his knees. He sits curled up like that in a chair and doesn't make eye contact except when he tops off his glass and downs it in one go. He's not a heavy drinker, and I hate seeing him lose control like this. I can't even help him how I normally would because I refuse to let him submit while drunk. And he's drunk more often than not nowadays.
Nolan has lost all warmth. He's rigid and unmoving, not smiling or laughing. He can find nothing to enjoy since she's left. He's always been a stern guy, but this is next level.
I'm not sure how they would describe me. How I appear on the outside. All I know is that Nora felt like a glass of pink lemonade on a hot day.
My little bird was so flighty at first from ages of having her wings clipped, and was just learning to fly again.
And she was taken from us.
I grab a glass for myself, fill it up high, and sit on the couch beside Blaine.
Nolan turns the TV on.
Currently, they're running a feature on Nora's history.
"The Perfect Omega was the dream child of Dr. Albert Greene, who, at the time, was fresh out of medical school and looking to make a name for himself. Utilizing the genome map of expected A/B/O traits and data of the previous thirty years of designing, he was able to isolate a set of genes all but guaranteed to produce "The Perfect Omega." Those traits were used on the next child he Designed, and that child became Nora Summers."
Images of Nora as she grows up are weaved with images of Dr. Greene in labs and reading papers. It all looks very staged, like a propaganda feature during wartime.
"When Nora turned six years old and began showing early signs of impending Omega status, she began a genome-specific Omega training designed to test the traits designed for. The result? The beautiful Nora Summers. She scores top marks in every subject the Omega School teaches, despite having only attended for a semester, is an accomplished cook, plays the violin beautifully, and keeps a perfect home and nest. Now, we are here to finally witness the perfect end for Miss Nora Summers – The Perfect Alpha for The Perfect Omega."
"Alpha?" Nolan says. "As in singular?"
Levi's legs drop down, and he leans his forearms on his thighs. "I don't think we're going to like this, guys."
"Good evening, Lunarcrest City! LunarNews1 is here with the exclusive tonight – The Perfect Omega's Perfect Alpha. In just a few minutes, the Perfect Omega, Nora Summers, will join us for the first public appearance with her match!"
We all top our glasses off and lean closer to the television. The scene switches from b-roll of the Clinic to a pretty woman with dark hair sitting on a couch in some sort of sound stage. She smiles broadly at the camera.
"Good evening, I'm Rebecca Kahn, and today we will be finally meeting the lucky match of Lunacrest's own Perfect Omega. But first, let's bring out Dr. Albert Greene to talk a little bit about what this process has been like for him."
We tune out the bullshit of her crook of a doctor. I catch snippets of it, all of it self-important bullshit like fucking with someone the way they did is okay.
It should be criminal.
"Well, I know everyone is excited to see Nora today and meet her match. Nora, why don't you come on out here!"
A glass shatters on the floor. No telling who's it was, because several of us had to have dropped ours.
Nora walks onto the stage in a yellow dress that casts her creamy skin in a sickly pallor. The dress is loose on the waist and shoulders in a way it should not be—she was already so small. Her hair and makeup are beautiful, but you can't hide the redness at the base of her scalp or the deep purple circles under her eyes.
She sits next to Dr. Greene, and it's not a smile she has on her face. Her face is entirely blank. No emotion. No fear, sadness, excitement, or fury. Nothing. Just completely empty.
"Nora, the world wants to know – are you shocked by how your matching turned out?"
"Oh yes, Rebecca, I am. I pictured bonding to be much different than this."
"Oh, now you've ruined the surprise! Well, viewers, you're lucky. We're going to be showing Nora bonding tonight, live, right after this interview!"
"They can't do this!" Levi shouts, tears running down his face. "Doesn't she need to be in heat to bond?"
"It makes for a stronger bond," I say sadly. "But I think you can force it outside of a heat."
Blaine's voice lacks all emotion and fight when he says, "We have to do something."
"Alicia says there's nothing we can do if they try to bond her off," Nolan reminds us. "She is going to have to shout it out now and let the world know she doesn't consent to get out of it. No way the station would showcase the unwilling bonding of an Omega."
"I think all of us have waited long enough to meet your new pack! Why don't you bring them out now?"
"Well, that's the funny thing, Rebecca!"
Nora turns towards Dr. Greene and puts a hand on his arm, and my stomach falls out my ass.
"You already have!"
My head is spinning. I'm going to be sick.
"He… This was his plan all along, wasn't it? He groomed her from the moment she was conceived," Nolan says, face slack. "He engineered his Perfect Omega."
"He created a slave. He brainwashed her into being at his beck and call. He started teaching her when she was six," Blaine says, his flat facade breaking as he begins crying. "What the fuck do we do? Does this mean Alicia was right? Did he purchase Nora?"
"Can she even speak up?" I ask quietly. "Chase said the doctor said a word that just caused Nora to freeze up and do whatever he asked."
None of us want to think of that implication.
In the background, the interview continues, asking questions about how and when they knew they were meant to be together, addressing rumors of seeing her out with another pack, and Dr. Greene explaining why he doesn't have a pack and that's one of the things that makes him perfect for Nora.
She barely speaks during any of this, her eyes dreamy as she stares forward with a half smile. Every few minutes, it seems like her eyes clear, and she looks over at the doctor and then back at the reporter, but the doctor always leans over and whispers in her ear, and she goes back to her dreamland.
We're arguing about what we're going to do, only vaguely listening to how they're planning on immediately starting to design children when a shattering sound from the TV grabs our attention. Rebecca, Nora, and Dr. Greene are all still on camera and on the couch, but people are yelling, and there is a commotion.
The screen goes black.
We sit there, starting it, for a few minutes, when a thought hits me. I pick up my phone, dial the number, and listen. When voicemail picks up, I turn to the pack.
"Guys, Chase's phone is going to voicemail."