1. Zephyr #2
“You were trespassing on an active crime scene.” Abraham huffs. An exasperated look clouds his face while he lifts both hands slightly off the table in tandem as if offering me a silver platter of my own stupidity.
“How was I supposed to know that?” I argue, despite knowing both of us are well aware that I did.
The whole building was wrapped in crime scene tape, and after watching it for two hours before going in, we knew the building was being patrolled every forty-five to sixty minutes.
Abraham doesn’t dignify that with a response. “Six months, good behavior, you’re out in half. Be a little shit, and it’ll be the full six. I’m sure you don’t care to hear about the numbers game of the fines.”
He’s right. I don’t. Restitution, no matter how large, will be paid easily. Pack Baron makes billionaires look broke. But him coming here suggesting this deal means he can’t just pay off whoever we need to get me out of this.
Six months without Phoenix? I don’t . . . I can’t.
“And . . .” I hate that my voice sounds shaky. “If we don’t take the deal?”
“Don’t.” Abraham shakes his head and motions as if to wipe the bad idea out of the air.
Don’t. Meaning don’t even think about not taking this deal. We’re not winning. Meaning it’ll be so much worse for me, for Phoenix, and for the club if we go to trial.
I blink slowly, looking at the folder on the table in front of him.
Abraham tips his head and catches my eye.
“If you sign this, you are admitting to guilt and going to prison for three months minimum. It is the least amount of time you will serve for this crime. If we go before a judge, it doesn’t look good.
Zephyr, I can’t tell you what to do, but I can tell you this is the best you’re getting. ”
The clock ticks by, seconds passing as I take in what he’s saying.
“I tried every avenue,” Abraham whispers. “Morals have become priceless this week.”
I’m not trying to mimic his tone, but as the harsh reality overtakes me, I can’t make my voice louder than a whisper. “Did Phoenix get home?”
“It was worth it.” Abraham’s single nod isn’t much, yet the weight of my sacrifice feels a little less disastrous.
Phoenix made it back to the club with the pictures and contents of the safe.
“Well, there’s that,” I mumble.
“I talked to your mother before coming here. She says she loves you and she thinks you’re brave.” Abraham’s words are sincere.
I don’t care what my sire or Grisham Baron thinks. I never have. But who wants to disappoint their mom? He knew I’d question that. Unlike his mate, my eldest brother Xavier, Abraham seems to like the rest of us Barons beyond what we’re useful for.
“Three months min? Six months max?” Fuckin’ shit, this is really happening. The world is collapsing in on itself.
This’ll be the longest time I’ve ever gone without seeing Phoenix.
My entire body turns hollow as my stomach threatens to empty.
Alphas aren’t usually born as twins. Especially not identical twins like Phoenix and me.
Most families select one fetus over another to grow to term.
It’s to limit the number of alphas born to their family.
They don’t want the responsibility of that many alphas.
It’s too expensive to contribute to the fund for buying omegas, but we were born to Family Baron.
Having alphas as offspring and being able to afford to buy us mates is a sign of our greatness and wealth.
I’m stuck with this immovable weight of dread that comes with the idea of being apart from my twin. My chest is tight, and I struggle to draw in a breath. The shirt collar is constricting around my throat.
There is a lawyerly ‘hmmm’ before Abraham confirms, “It’ll be three as long as you keep your head down and nose clean.”
“Shit.” I hadn’t even thought about that. It’s one thing to get fucked up in holding or the area’s jail. But prison on its own . . . could be a death sentence.
It seemed like such an easy decision to join the motorcycle club.
Our older brother Fox had joined Night Wraiths MC, and Phoenix wanted to be where he was.
Xavier was already tied up in the mess too.
I agreed to join even though I knew it was a bad idea. But now, after being caught, I have some regrets. Maybe I should have pushed harder to not join the outlaw group.
What happens to Phoenix if I die in here? Night Wraiths MC has many other rivals, not just the Hollow Coffins MC. Plenty of people out there want to hurt the Night Wraiths, and being a smaller alpha, I’m an easy target.
I try not to let my brain get ahead of itself. I need to take this one day at a time. “Where am I going?”
“If it helps in this decision at all,” Abraham says low, “Fox is impressed. Mayhem was the one who gave me an idea that got a month knocked off your sentence. And Revenant, well, he got me information on where you’d best be housed.”
“And?” I dismiss the thoughts of the club leaders. I know a lot of what they know, but not everything. There are two prisons I don’t want to be anywhere near.
“Tri-Lake Penitentiary. Rev says that the population is about fifty percent friendly, and they’ll be looking out for you. He’s already called in some favors.”
Abraham’s confirmation of the safest, closest prison gives me faith that three months is all it’ll be.
Three months. I can do that. It’s three months. Ninety-ish days, depending on whether they count the months as one to thirty-one or just thirty?
I swallow hard and nod, accepting the weight in my stomach as a new installment in my personality. “What do I gotta sign?”
Abraham opens the folder and slides it across to me, handing me a pen. I look over the paperwork. He wouldn’t let me sign anything that wasn’t safe, but I should probably at least have some idea. He doesn’t rush me.
Pen to the paper, I put my sharp Z and B down before running a line through them both, ending with a hook like a bird’s beak.
I’m guilty, there’s no doubt about it. I don’t know why I thought I’d get away with it.
But what we really do, what I’m passionate about, is our front for omega smuggling or .
. . anti-smuggling of omegas. We’ve taken to stealing omegas away from the bad black market before or after they’ve been sold, depending on the shipments.
What we do is a bastardized rehabilitation attempt to get them sold in our own good black-market sales.
So they can go to packs who wouldn’t be able to get an omega because of the bullshit pricing schemes of the ‘real’ world.
The difference between us and the people we steal the omegas from is that the omega gets a choice in who she goes with. That’s how it should be.
I’ll cling to that purpose to get me through these months without Phoenix.