Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
STONE
I’ve been monitoring Tom, the head of the Foundation, noting his comings and goings. There’s no way he didn't know what Joey was up to. I doubt Joey’s the only twisted fuck he has working for the Foundation. But that’s being placed on hold while I question Jimmy. All I need to do is wait for it to get dark and make my move.
I drove by early this morning and saw toys littering the yard. The house is located on a deserted country road that connects to the interstate. Only people who live on the road, or take a wrong turn, would dare to venture on it since it resembles something out of the movie Wrong Turn . The house is okay looking, but it could use some repairs. Its appearance just fits the stereotypical serial killer’s house in horror movies.
Two years have passed since the last time I saw my sister’s face. Seven hundred and thirty days. She was so full of beauty and life and now there’s nothing but a headstone and a plot for anyone to know she existed.
No one knew what happened to her and didn’t seem to care. Not even the police force I worked for seemed too concerned about a dead beta.
I quit the force six months after her death. The corruption is one of the main reasons I left. It gutted me at first, but that quickly turned into anger, and now I’m out for revenge. The only person I know I can trust is Commissioner Charles Key.
All I want is to find the person responsible for my sister’s murder and handle them with my own brand of justice. I stay in contact with Charles because he feeds me information to help in my search.
No one else knows he helps me and they never will. It would cost him his job, and possibly his life, if the wrong people find out.
It took months of sneaking around and researching, but I finally found the last person seen with her, and it was none other than Joey Ritz. One of the top agents at the fucking Foundation.
Where does the treachery stop?
The fucker was reported to be kidnapping betas and omegas off the streets and taking them back to his home. Apparently, the fucker had a torture chamber in his basement. After he got tired of “playing” with them, he would kill them, which we only found out after his only surviving victim, Cassia Weaston, came forward.
I need him to pay for Brenda’s death. She didn’t have a pack to protect or avenge her, but she does have an older brother that will burn the world to the ground for her.
Joey has been missing for a year. It’s been said he died in a fire, but I don’t know if I believe that. If there’s one thing I can say for sure, it’s the police department is full of fucking liars. For all I know, he’s alive and on a beach somewhere, living his best life, and the fucking cops are covering for him.
He has a cousin, one who was under suspicion for that corrupt asshole Whiteside’s murder. I don’t have anything against betas. How could I? My sister was one. But Whiteside was a vile human being. His hatred festered until his heart turned black and he had no remorse for anything he did. He had everyone fooled, except me. It’s the main reason I asked to partner with someone new four years ago. If not, I was going to kill him myself.
In hindsight, maybe I should have.
But that brings me back to today and what I’m planning. Charles finally gave me the name of the cousin and his address. Jimmy Jones sounds like a fucking asshole. I will get some answers tonight if it’s the last thing I do.
I’ve just sat down in my chair and turned on the television when my phone vibrates in my pocket.
Unknown: Got some info for you on Tom from the Foundation.
Me: What is it?
Unknown: Omega tied to him, now linked to the Carlisle Pack. Possible Arcane bond. Abused.
Me: Was the omega sold as well?
Unknown: The money trail would say yes.
Me: Who are you?
Unknown: Just someone who wants to bring an end to corruption and save those who need it. Do what you will with the information.
I wish I knew who this mysterious angel was. Hell, I don’t even know if it’s a man or a woman. All I know is I get random texts with information that so far have always been truthful and spot on.
I’ll check into this omega that’s tied to Tom and this pack, but first I need to handle Jimmy and find out where the hell that snake, Joey, is hiding.
I sit back and stretch my legs, propping them on the coffee table. I need to clear my mind so I can be in the right headspace for tonight. I scroll over to the apps and click on the icon I need. Immediately, the television comes to life with the opening credits of Tangled .
My sister’s favorite movie. It brings me closer to her. Watching it helps me rationalize what I’m about to do. Once I get the information about Joey, I’m killing Jimmy.
* * *
I park down the road, taking advantage of a pull-off with a break in the treeline, to stow my truck. I’ll go on foot the rest of the way to Jimmy’s house. With it being dark, I don’t want him to see headlights and know I’m coming.
Not that he would. The fucker’s been all over town showing his face, gloating at the fact he couldn’t be convicted for Whiteside’s murder because of a technicality. Better yet, I plan to find out who removed the cleaver from the evidence locker. It was the only thing the police had to tie Jimmy to Whiteside. Without it, there was no case.
The chill of the night cuts through my jacket, but I keep moving. The rustling of the leaves as the wind blows and the high-pitched hoo-hoo of owls as they communicate with each other calms my racing heart.
I halt as a twig snaps beneath my feet, praying no one heard it. I stop and listen, not moving a muscle, but when a couple of minutes pass and there’s nothing, I continue.
The trail I’m on leads me up to the back of Jimmy’s house. There’s a light on in the kitchen, but from where I’m standing, all I can see is a silhouette of two people sitting at what I assume to be a table. One of the shapes is large, while the other is smaller and petite. Most likely his wife.
I take a step closer, and that's when I see it—blood smeared across the porch, a lot of it. My gut twists, and I know I need to assess the situation before I go in half-cocked. Something isn’t right. I need to stay sharp, and keep my cool. I inch forward, placing my foot on the wooden step to the porch, and cringe when it creaks. Fuck! What the hell is wrong with me tonight? I might be an alpha but usually I’m stealthy as fuck—not tonight, apparently.
I can see movement as the smaller form walks across the room, then returns with something in hand and places it on the table, sitting back down across from him.
Fuck, I need to hear what’s going on in there and see what’s happening. My eyes scan the length of the porch. At the end, I see a window cracked open with the curtains parted.
Perfect.
Every step I take is deliberate and purposeful. I take my time, gingerly placing my foot on the floor, silently pleading for the wood to cooperate and not make a sound. I release the breath I’d been holding when I finally make it to the window. The pungent mixture of mold, rot, and wet dog fills my nose, choking me. It smells like pure sewage, but a faint smell of coconut and lime cuts through and overwhelms my senses, stirring something deep inside of me.
It doesn’t mix with any of the others, and I yearn to know who it belongs to. It's not the scent of whoever's blood is on the porch, so who is it? Does Jimmy have some poor omega held captive here?
I position myself so no one can see me and peer inside.
I see Jimmy, who looks exactly like the photos provided to me by Charles and what I found online. He’s slim, with a full beard, and dark steel eyes. His hair is long and greasy, with a receding hairline. He has a smirk on his face as he looks at the person in front of him. I can’t quite see them. I move so I can try to catch a glimpse, finally finding a spot with the perfect side view of him and his guest.
The house is oddly silent except for the two of them. No sounds of children can be heard.
I finally see the other person as she stands and moves over to Jimmy, straddling his lap as she lifts a spoon to his mouth. God, this woman is sex on a stick and definitely not the woman in the pictures as his wife. A mistress?
How is she with him? Did he follow in his cousin’s footsteps and kidnap her? Does she suffer from Stockholm Syndrome?
My biggest question is, how is he keeping his hands off of her? I glance lower and see them secured to the chair.
When she speaks, her voice is like silk sliding over my skin, causing me to shiver.
She feeds him from the plate beside her, and he groans in delight with each bite. The goddess smiles at him, and I want to hurl. She should be on my lap, riding my cock.
Wait! What? Where the hell did that thought come from?
“Do you like my meal, Jimmy?” she asks as she feeds him another bite. I can’t hear everything from this position, just bits and pieces of their conversation.
His mouth is full of food, so he nods.
“Does it taste good?”
He nods again.
“I told you I could cook better than Marsha.” She pauses for a moment, feeding Jimmy another bite. “Or maybe it’s because this is Marsha. Does she taste good? Did you expect to eat your own wife, you sick fuck?”
Fuck, did she just say what I heard? She’s feeding the fucker his own wife. This Little Minx is even more twisted than the man I’ve become.
I need to know why she’s targeting Jimmy. Maybe we can join forces. Maybe even in my bed. My cock is begging to be with her. Being this close, her scent is muted enough to know she’s not an omega, but I’ve never envisioned having one in my future. I’m almost forty, and if I was going to have one, then it would have happened years ago.
I can’t take my eyes off of her, even though anger boils inside of me when he spits the food into her face.
“You fucking cunt, I’m going to kill you!” Jimmy shouts and it takes all of my strength to stay glued to my spot, needing to see how this plays out.