Chapter 15
Chapter
Fifteen
BARON
I scrub a hand over my buzzcut as I pace nervously next to my van, listening to the ringing on the other end of the line last way too long.
Again.
I hate talking on the phone, I don’t even really like texting, and the only people I keep in somewhat contact with are my brother and mom. Those conversations are brief at best, and I typically don’t try more than once in a day because I know they’ll eventually get back to me.
Standing in the parking lot of Ves’ hotel, blowing up the viking-like alpha I’m still trying to figure out, is not something I ever thought I’d be doing.
I don’t blow people up.
I’m not even the first to make contact most of the time.
And I definitely don’t talk to any alphas unless I have to.
I struggle playing nice, I always have, and since I don’t do well with other people in my designation, I avoid them altogether.
Not being able to reach Lennox is eating at me.
Especially after his constant and almost obsessive check-ins since we exchanged numbers.
I have a bad feeling about it, if I’m being honest, and who would have thought I’d be in this situation over anyone, let alone another alpha.
And yet, here I am. Ready to come out of my skin because I can’t get a hold of Lennox and the feeling of doom sitting in the pit of my gut is growing by the second.
“Hey, this is Lennox. Sorry I missed you—”
I hang up as soon as it goes to voicemail then swipe until I get to our thread.
Me
I need you to call me.
Now.
It’s been days.
Too many. I need proof of life.
My stomach drops at that thought and I fire off another string of texts as I yank open the driver’s side door to my van.
Me
Where are you?
Why aren’t you answering?
Arlo and Cali are moving.
Ves is staying here. They’ll all be here.
Answer me.
What are you doing?
Why won’t you answer?
I go back to my call log as I start the engine and speed out of the parking lot, calling Lennox over and over before I pull up my tracking app.
Because yes, I managed to plant a digital one on him the last time we did actually speak on the phone. I pinged his location, pulled the signal, and after a few fancy moves my little brother taught me, I was able to track that alpha as well as he’s been tracking me.
Having his location still doesn’t mean anything is wrong, and as soon as I have the address of his current one, I’m getting on the nearest on ramp and racing toward him.
Thank god it’s only an hour and a half from here to Malibu.
Not that it matters much.
I’m going so goddamn fast I’ll make it in forty-five minutes.
Which is exactly what I do.
It might be a record, making it between cities as fast as I did, but now I have another predicament.
Apparently Lennox is a little more on the bougie side than I thought.
He’s staying at the Malibu Beach Inn.
Talk about luxury.
Everyone is entitled to it now and then, and if you have the means, go for it. I’d love to stay somewhere like this, beach front and all, for a long weekend or some shit, but I wasn’t expecting this from Lennox.
I bet he had to sweet talk them into letting him bring his dog. There’s no way that alpha was going to stay anywhere without him.
He’s hot, and very charming, he basically oozes charisma, so I doubt he had any trouble, but I can’t see them letting someone bring their pooch into such a classy place. Even one as well behaved and adorable as Rufus.
While I don’t know what floor he’s staying on, which room is his, or how to go about getting that info on the fly without something as simple as a last name, there is a bigger problem at hand.
This place caters to a very specific aesthetic, and I look every bit the felon I am.
Really, I look like a poor kid from the other side of the tracks, one who got into a lot of trouble while he listened to classic rock and heavy metal, spent time in and out of jail for assault, then grew up to play pro hockey.
Then got forced into early retirement for allegedly murdering someone on the ice and the huge PR nightmare that caused.
So, yeah, I guess I look like a felon, and that’s not really the vibe this place is going for.
Strolling in and asking, or demanding, for information on a charismatic alpha with a cute dog isn’t going to fly, and it’s getting kind of late, so they’d be more inclined to call the cops if I tried.
Not that my alternative and only option doesn’t have the potential to end with the same outcome, but I can’t shake this feeling that something is very wrong with Lennox.
Risking more jailtime, it is.
After parking a few blocks away from the Malibu Beach Inn, I pull my hood up over my head and start walking toward the resort.
I am the fucking poster child for criminals everywhere right now.
The sun is setting but it’s still at least eighty degrees, and my dumbass is dressed like I’m about to commit a bank robbery. All I’m missing is the ski mask.
Talk about a walking red flag.
It’s fine.
No one is going to fuck with me becuase of the way I look, and there’s no doubt in my mind, my vibe is volatile enough that I could be dressed like Mr. Rogers and everyone would still leave me alone.
Doesn’t mean they might not make a call from a distance.
I don’t give a shit, though.
Making my way to the side of the Inn, I try to avoid getting noticed by anyone, or too close to the beach, as I start circling the building.
If Lennox has his dog with him, which I’m sure he does, it would make sense for him to book a room on the bottom floor with a patio in order to make it easy for him to go outside.
Given he most likely checked in within the last twenty four hours, and this place books up fast, he might have had to take something on one of the upper floors.
I could also see him taking a second floor room or higher just so he could take the stairs, so if he’s not on the bottom, it could have been intentional for the cardio.
He’s pretty fucking fit, afterall. I’m sure he’d take whatever opportunity he can get in order to stay that way.
Upper floor, it is.
I pass a few darkened balconies as I start my search, another with the doors open and the sounds of screaming kids booming out of them, a few more dark, one with a woman performing very enthusiastic oral on her partner, a couple with lights on and no activity, and then…
“Lennox, you son of a bitch,” I hiss as I stop under the balcony he’s standing on.
He sets a bottle on the ground at his feet before he leans on the railing and looks down at me. “I didn’t have you pegged as the obsessing over alphas type.”
“I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for almost a day and a half. You couldn’t even send up a flare so I knew you weren’t—”
“Dead?” He arches a brow and shakes his head. “Not yet. Haven’t really put a lot of effort into it.”
Well, I don’t like that fucking response. “What are you doing here?”
“Resting. Relaxing. Luxuriating.”
“Why?”
“Why not?” He pushes his hair out of his eyes, tired eyes that are less vibrant than I’ve seen before. “I don’t have anything better to do.”
My hands ball into fists at my sides and I take a step closer. “Yeah, you fucking do.”
Lennox scoffs and rolls his eyes. “I really don’t.”
“What? Didn’t get your dick sucked by one of your scent matches so you’re ready to throw in the towel?
” I know that’s low, but my anxiety is almost as high as my adrenaline right now, which means my fuse is shorter than normal.
“Ready to write the rest of us off because no one hopped on your lap the second they laid eyes on you?”
He clenches his teeth but I didn’t miss the way he flinched. “They don’t fucking need me, Baron. None of you do.”
“You’ve got to be cracked.”
“Not the first time I’ve heard that.”
“And it won’t be the last at the rate you’re going.” I take a deep breath and try to calm my shit down. “They’re going out to San Clemente. The omegas are going to be staying there, together, with their little girl.”
“So?” Lennox uncomfortably shifts on his feet. “Why do I need to be there?”
“Oh, I don’t know, because there’s a fucking serial killer on the loose in that area?” Not that I don’t think Ves can handle himself, or protect Arlo and Cali, but they’re planting temporary roots in the current killing ground, and I think we should be there.
“That has nothing to do with me. Or you, for that matter. Why are you even here?”
I shake my head with an annoyed laugh. “What the fuck is wrong with you, man? Those are our scent matches. Don’t you want to be where they are?”
Lennox just shrugs, and I am seconds from losing my shit.
We stare at each other for a few beats, neither of us speaking or blinking, and it’s almost like his aura shifts.
No, not shifts.
It amplifies, and I feel the wave of sadness roll off of him and crash into me so hard I can’t help but take a step back.
That makes a little more sense.
Why I feel the impending doom, why he’s all but disappeared.
Lennox is battling something right now, something heavy, and he’s not going to budge unless I make him.
Good thing I can be pretty goddamn persuasive.
“Fine,” I grunt as I start walking backward. “Fine, man. You want to luxuriate here, alone, and leave your omegas to fend for themselves, I’m not going to argue. You do you, Lennox, and I’ll try to keep our boys alive long enough to get your dick wet with at least one of them first.”
Then I turn on my heel and start walking quickly back toward my van.
My van which conveniently has duct tape, rope, and a tarp, amongst other things.
Things like a brand new bottle of chloroform, and a bag of dog treats.
Lennox is going to San Clemente one way or another, and even that charming bastard won’t be able to argue my persuasion tactics.