Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
RHODES
“It’s been hours,” I growl, walking into the practice center.
We’ve been calling Koen since he left the house with nothing more than a wave. He may have been tied to our bed for the night, but I knew he was safe there. Now?
I have no clue and that doesn’t sit well with me. To be clear, not only has it been hours since we last saw him, it’s now two in the goddamned afternoon, and there’s not been a single peep from our omega.
“When we find him, we’re going to chip him like a damn dog,” I add.
“Agreed,” Sky says, not even pretending to be even keeled today.
“He just left without saying anything! I vaguely remember he said something about needing to use the bathroom, so I pulled the rope holding his wrists to the headboard and went back to sleep. Honestly, you or he could have been talking to me and I wouldn’t have known which one of you it was. I’m still pretty tired.”
“Same,” I sigh. I had to pull Skylar back from following Koen down the driveway since he was half naked and didn’t have shoes.
There’s still snow on the ground, and I’m pretty sure we’re going to have fresh powder soon. Fuck.
We checked the video cameras in the house, and he was in a hurry trying to get ready. Luckily, he forgot about the alarm system so it was able to alert us.
Now, we have an omega to chase. The longer we go without eyes on him, the higher the anxiety and nervous energy I feel. Skylar will be worse, which means a bad little omega shall be spanked.
The foot traffic is light in the halls as we walk toward the gym. I doubt Koen is here, but we’re hoping to get a lead on where he could have gone. Popping my head into the gym, I frown as I raise my hand up to those here.
“What’s wrong?” Olsson asks as he continues to do weighted chin ups. The words come out in explosive grunts, and he’s pouring sweat. He’s obviously been here for a while.
It makes me feel guilty that I’m not currently training next to him.
“Just looking for Koen,” I shrug. “He’s not answering his phone.”
“Hold up,” he says, glancing at Richards for help.
Richards rolls his eyes and gets up, unwrapping the strap holding the weight between Olsson’s legs.
“You’re free. Run and gossip, little bird,” he says sarcastically.
“Get fucked and thank you,” Olsson says sweetly, dropping to his feet. “I need to check something. Let’s take this outside, Franz.”
Curious, I watch as he grabs a bottle of water and shoots a stream of it into his mouth. It reminds me of when I spit in Koen’s mouth, and it just makes me miss him more. Sighing, I step outside to wait for him, because now every little thing is pissing me off and it’s getting out of hand.
“Did you guys fight?” Olsson asks, now in front of me. His tank top is plastered to his skin, and his joggers are hanging low as he raises his brow at me.
I’m not sure where Skylar is now, but I’d bet anything he’s talking to Coach Weightman about why we’re not staying.
Sky likes to check off the boxes of the ‘to do’ list in his head while I find my own way of dealing with things.
Both things are a perfectly normal way of processing unadulterated trauma.
I only seem to be a functioning alpha at this time. Instead, I’m spiraling out of control wondering if we’re just too much for Koen. What the fuck caused him to bolt?
“Okay, look,” Olsson says. “Did you guys have a fight or something?”
“Nope,” I say honestly, shaking my head. “I didn’t even get to talk to him this morning. He was just rolling down the driveway with barely a ‘fuck you very much’.”
“He doesn’t miss training, and he’s always the first one here on our lighter days. Let me check something,” he mutters, pulling out his phone.
It appears as if he’s counting something in his calendar before he winces.
“At the price of getting my teeth knocked out, I’m going to tell you that I track his heats,” he says.
My jaw drops because that’s a very odd thing to track, but Olsson raises his hands, though they’re full.
“Koen is very close lipped, and the only omega currently on the team,” he says.
“He hasn’t said a word about how he feels regarding his ruined apartment, and he compartmentalizes everything.
I mean fuck, he asked me tentatively about the bar, and I mentioned there was an odd fan chatting us all up.
He got a look on his face before walking away. Have you talked to him about that?”
“No. Talking isn’t something he likes to do,” I admit. Fuck. “He doesn’t know we took him home that night.”
“Well, something could have spooked him today, or he could be preparing for his heat. I hate that someone I consider my best friend disappears once every three months without any warning,” Olsson explains.
“He shrugs off his heats, says it’s private and a blip on his schedule, yet we know that’s not true.
Anyway, he’s about a week overdue. I’d start hitting up the hotels since he’s not with you. Are you his scent matches?”
Damn. Way to sandwich in that question. My head hurts.
“Yeah,” I grunt finally. “As far as I know, he hasn’t realized that yet due to the fucking cream he uses.”
“I keep telling him he’s going to fry his nasal passages. He started using something stronger recently. I noticed it’s a different tube,” he mutters. “He’s stubborn as fuck, but tying someone to the bed is wrong.”
“Ah, how do you know about that?” I ask before I can pull back the rules.
“I had a feeling,” Olsson says, shaking his head. “You give off that vibe is all.”
Frowning, I incline my head toward Skylar’s voice as he calls my name.
“We do not,” I reply. “There’s no ‘vibe’ for dick cuddles.”
“Umm. That’s too much information. Less is more, man,” Olsson says, heading back into the gym.
I’ve never understood that saying. I’m way too extra for that shit.
Turning toward Sky as he makes his way to me, I tell him what I know.
“Our omega is in heat,” I say softly.
His scent grows slightly burned, the only indication he heard me.
“Coach received a text from Koen two hours ago,” he says.
“It backs up what you just said. His omega designation apparently allows him to take time off without filling out paperwork beforehand. His heats have their own timetable. However, Coach says he loosely tracks Koen’s heats for his own peace of mind. ”
“He’s not the only one,” I sigh. “Let’s get out of here, and I’ll explain.”
The hockey center is as cold as it is outside sometimes, and that’s definitely true today.
My cheeks burn as the icy wind whips around us as we walk to the Jeep, allowing me to update Skylar on my conversation with Olsson.
The sky is a bright white color I am starting to recognize as a sign of snow.
We’re going to get stuck looking for Koen in a snowstorm if we don’t find him soon.
“Our omega has a lot of people who watch out for him,” Sky says.
“I also ran into Edna and she said she already filed any necessary paperwork needed. That’s why Koen simply calls the coach when he knows he’s going into heat.
The team fills in the gaps for him so he won’t have to worry.
I wish Koen realized he’s less alone than he thinks. ”
Sliding his phone out of his pocket, he shrugs. “I tried to do this the normal way, but I’m not fucking normal, am I?”
I shake my head as we get into our vehicle, and he places the phone on the mount so he’s hands free. I appreciate the way he safeguards both of us, even if he’s still parked. Depending on the information Fishman has for us, I know that could change at a moment’s notice.
I worry as I watch the frown lines ruining the smoothness of his face, entranced while he places a call to our usual fixer.
It still amuses me how we have someone like Fishman on our payroll, yet it's a necessity. He keeps our asses both out of jail and out of the press. The media would have a field day if they knew half the shit we get up to. Our sins definitely have been increasing since meeting Koen Jeffries, though it’s not entirely his fault.
I’m willing to burn the world down for my omega, and I know Skylar feels the exact same way.
“Hey, Ryder,” Sky says once the vehicle’s heat kicks on. “I have a job for you.”
“Who died, and do you need new toys to kill people with?” Fishman asks. “You never call me Ryder. This shit is serious.”
“Well, I had to get your attention,” Skylar admits. “Koen is in heat and has disappeared. He told our coach but not us. I don’t have anything to go on now that his apartment is gone.”
“Are we ignoring the fact that he’s running from you?” Fishman snorts in amusement.
My lips twitch because that’s not a real question. He’s just as fucked up as we are. I can’t wait for him to meet his scent match and find out how quickly choices get torched. I’m running on instinct and obsession, and nothing more.
“Yep,” I reply, glad the phone is on speakerphone. “You know we love a proper hunt, but only when we have a direction to run in. Hide and seek isn’t our bag.”
“Not unless we can hear our prey breathing,” Sky grunts.
“Poor omega,” Fishman mutters. “I’ll start checking the video cameras around town for his likeness.”
“Thank you,” I say, getting comfortable. There’s no use getting off the phone if he’s working on it. We can camp out in the Jeep for now.
“Yep. He’s been busy,” he says. “He went to the bank and took out a lot of cash. Someone is ready to go underground.”
“He’s been tied to the bed before,” I grumble. “Why would this be any different?”
“You’re a crazy motherfucker, and I respect it,” Fishman says under his breath. I can hear his fingers tapping over his keyboard as he tracks Koen, and my heart beats faster.
There are many types of hunts, and a digital one gets my blood pumping just as much as any other kind. Koen thinks he’s safe and he’s done all the right things. The issue is there’s no such thing as a “right thing” when your pursuers play by different rules.
Sky and I always play for keeps.
“He went to a couple of clothing stores, a sex toy store, and….” Fishman trails off and now I’m frowning.
Thankfully my frown lines smooth themselves out afterward, or I’d be pissed.
“And?” Skylar asks impatiently.
“I lost him in between traffic cameras,” Fishman mutters. “He can’t be in a great area of town if that happened.”
“Goddamn it. My palm is twitching,” Sky grunts. “What are our options?”
“I’ll give you the hotels in the vicinity of where he was last seen, and you can start dropping bribes for information,” Fishman explains. “Welcome to my life.”
“Let’s go visit the seedier part of town then,” I say. “If he’s in heat, we need to pick up supplies other than sex toys. I mean, did he even get any water or snacks?”
“Not that I saw,” Fishman says, throwing our omega under the bus.
My lips twitch up, though not because anything is funny. This entire situation is simply bizarre.
“If you send me a list, I’ll go grocery shopping for you and add it to my tab. I’ll charge extra for the kinky shit,” Fishman says helpfully as he sends a pin to the phone. “This is the area I suggest you start looking. Let me know where you land, and I’ll bring you your stuff.”
“Thanks. You’re a lifesaver as usual,” Sky says.
“Also, just so you know,” I add, “I’m definitely adding kinky shit to the list.”
Skylar snorts as he ends the call, and pulls the phone off the mount to put in the coordinates we’re headed. Then, he hands the phone to me.
“You’re going to both navigate and text Fishman for me, please,” he says, putting the Jeep into reverse. “I definitely need rope to tie our omega down to fucking eat.”
Chuckling, I nod as I open the text box and add ROPE as the first item. Hey, at least I have my priorities straight, right?