Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Zak
The house looks vaguely familiar.
Pale brick. Black shutters. Red front door.
Something is unsettling about the familiarity. Where have I seen this house before?
As I get out of the car, my neck prickles with an eerie awareness. If this is what Mia considers good energy, we might have to have a little talk.
Rufus waits for us on the front porch, a pastel pink scarf wrapped loosely around his neck. His arms are crossed as he leans against the column at the top of the porch steps. He shifts his weight restlessly as we approach the house.
The smile he gives us strikes me as uneasy, and not as enthusiastic as usual.
"Look at these flower beds!" Mia gasps, staring lovingly at the well-manicured flower bed lining the porch. Someone has taken great care to grow a beautiful collection of native plants.
"They're nice," Freddie agrees before quickly jerking his head to look back over his shoulder.
I tilt my head in question. He waits until Mia is walking up the steps toward Rufus before he leans over and whispers, "I feel like someone is watching me. Or sneaking up behind me. Did you check for cars following us here?"
That makes me raise my eyebrows.
"I think I would have noticed a car following us. Who do you think we are? Undercover CIA agents?" There have only been a few occasions we've even done anything noteworthy enough to be followed by paparazzi. Spencer and I are professional athletes, not A-list celebrities.
Freddie shrugs. Knowing him, his brain is probably engrossed in mental gymnastics, trying to think of a way that Spencer and I could be football players who secretly moonlight as CIA agents.
I swear, if he starts wiretapping our phones, I'm going to suggest to Spencer that he take away Freddie's online shopping privileges.
Rufus waits until we all join him on the porch before launching into realtor mode.
"This house is original to the neighborhood, and has only had updates that remain true to the original craftsmanship.
We have eight bedrooms, two of which are full suites, and then there are two rooms that share a jack-and-jill style shared bathroom.
The full basement adds significant square footage, so there's always the opportunity to break that one large recreation space into some additional bedrooms as well, if you need that option down the road. "
Ah, yes, Rufus finally seems to be realizing that our jokes about having enough kids to make our own football team are not entirely jokes. Our pack will give our omega as many babies as she'll allow.
"Before we go inside, my personal ethics compel me to make a disclosure." Rufus inhales a slow, deep breath.
Spencer presses his shoulder to mine, looking from Mia to Rufus. "That sounds ominous."
Rufus wipes the back of his hand across his forehead, sweat practically pouring from his temples despite the cool fall weather. I’m worried. We should have all spent more time talking about the importance of structural integrity before engaging in this house hunt.
What if he's about to tell us this house has termites?
Or black mold?
Or major cracks in the foundation?
Worry does me no good until I hear what Rufus has to say. I grind my teeth as I wait for him to continue.
"A homicide took place in this home four years ago."
"A murder house?" Freddie's head whips in every direction, back to desperately searching for the source of that watched feeling. "You brought us to a murder house?" He turns to Mia with accusatory eyes. "Did you know?"
She gives us all a too-innocent smile that says it all.
That's not the face of a woman hearing about a murder for the first time.
"Seriously?" Spencer crosses his arms over his chest.
Just because we haven't marked her yet doesn't mean Spencer will take kindly to being kept in the dark. He's a stickler for wanting to know all the information all the time.
"What?" She twirls the length of her high ponytail around her hand, the gesture both cute and saucy.
"There hasn't been a crime committed here in four years.
Do you know how much bad energy might have dissipated between then and now?
We owe it to ourselves to consider all of our best options, so we shouldn't judge until we know if the house has any residual weird vibes. "
Spencer makes a strangled noise. "You got us here under false pretenses."
"I got you here under real estate pretenses," she corrects quickly. "Lots of people could have died in those other houses, and we just don't know about them."
Freddie groans. "Do you know what houses don't have a body count? New builds. How long exactly does bad energy take to go away? Maybe you should try taking a look at our house again."
As if he wasn't the first one to jump on the bandwagon of hating our current home just six days ago.
"Even without the bad energy, your house would have no personality of its own," Mia grumbles half under her breath.
"Counterpoint." Freddie lifts a finger like he's moderating a formal debate. "If we don't tour the murder house, we'll always wonder if it was the one that got away."
"I won't," Spencer mutters.
Freddie doesn't seem to have any idea which side of this argument to lean into.
He probably should mention to Mia at some point that he's absolutely terrified of ghosts.
We tried to take him on a Halloween date shortly after the three of us first got together, and he got so scared by a woman dressed up as a ghostly bride that he broke a window out to escape the haunted house.
I appreciate his attempt to be a good sport.
Mia stomps her foot on the deck, her petulance so cute that I duck my head to hide a smile.
Rufus claps his hands together and tries to regain control of the situation.
"Because of the history, this place is priced to sell, and the current owners are open to closing as soon as possible.
There have been extensive renovations since the...
incident. There are a lot of features here you all are interested in, and as a bonus, there are absolutely no smart home features in sight. "
"Everything sounds great so far," Mia says. After an uncomfortable pause, she hastily adds, "Besides the murder thing. That obviously doesn't sound good. That part sounds bad. Should we go in now?"
"Of course. I've already unlocked the front door for us, so after you." He makes a show of politely gesturing for Mia to go first. Even if I were on board with this house up until this point, his reluctance to be the first to enter would seal the deal for me that this is not the house for us.
Mia doesn't think twice before reaching for the front door, and the pack has no choice but to hurry into place right behind her because no way in hell are we letting her enter a murder house alone.
The front door opens with an ordinary little click, which feels misleading.
A house like this should at least have a door that groans ominously upon entry.
Able to see easily over Mia's head, I take in the sight of the foyer.
The space is bright and clean with fresh paint, polished wood floors, and a grand staircase that rounds to the second floor.
The place doesn't immediately scream murder house.
Until Rufus tries to helpfully let us know, "The incident took place near the base of the staircase. Everything was professionally cleaned by specialists, and the flooring and sub-floors have been fully replaced across the whole main floor."
Mia barely finishes letting him speak before she takes one step over the threshold into the house.
Stops.
Shivers.
Every instinct in me goes feral.
Spencer swears under his breath as another house in our search bites the dust. Freddie grabs a fistful of my shirt for comfort as he squeezes between Spencer and me for protection.
Slowly, Mia turns toward us.
Her expression is blank.
Too blank.
When she speaks, her voice comes out low and eerie enough to send a chill down my whole damn spine.
"Get... out..."
No one moves a muscle.
For one frozen second, I wonder if it's worth trying to throw our omega over my shoulder in the hopes that Spencer can somehow fight off whatever evil spirit is trying to possess her.
Then Mia bursts out laughing.
She laughs so hard that she has to bend at the waist, putting her hands on her knees, to try to catch her breath and calm down. When she can finally speak again, she says, “Just kidding. This isn’t the house for us. We can go.”
And then she strolls right out the front door, flouncing away as if nothing happened.
The failed murder house tour should feel like a funny story, and maybe someday it will be something I pull out to amuse people at parties.
Mia's creepy little possession act might have shaved a decade off my lifespan, but I'd be lying if I didn't admit to loving how smug she was in the car afterward.
Absolutely delighted with herself for scaring us.
But right now, I can't get past the frustration I feel over crossing another house off the list.
Another day gone.
Tomorrow, our team faces its biggest rival in one of the most important games of the season. I should be focused on that, but instead, my brain is occupied with worrying about whether the perfect nest exists or if I'll ever get to knot our omega.
I lean my head against Mia's concrete apartment building and take a deep breath of cool evening air.
The others are upstairs prepping for dinner.
After finding out how important this week's game is, Mia insisted that tonight's dinner adhere strictly to the team nutritionist's guidelines for Spencer and me.
Freddie isn't thrilled, but Spencer handled that well by putting him in charge of tossing the salad.
Freddie has endless jokes about tossed salad.
After prepping the chicken breasts to go in the oven, I excused myself to go outside for some air. I haven't been alone long before the building door opens, and I turn my head to see Spencer scanning the sidewalk for me.
His eyes land on me leaning against the building, and his gaze softens. His mouth is pinched with worry as he approaches slowly.
"You okay?"
"Not really," I admit.
He leans against the wall beside me, our shoulders touching, and waits.
His presence is like a calming balm on my rising anxiety levels. The worry feels more manageable with him at my side. I reach down and clasp our hands together, trying to draw more of his strength for myself.
After a couple of minutes of silence, I work up the courage to say the words, "I'm worried.
The odds of us finding a house before Mia goes into heat seem close to zero.
I'm not sure I know what kind of home we're even looking for.
And the longer this takes..." I trail off, my jaw tight and my throat clogged with emotion.
"The harder it gets," Spencer finishes for me quietly.
"Yeah." I laugh once, the sound humorless. "I'm getting more agitated by the day. Every time she cuddles up with us on the couch or even simply smiles in my direction, I'm using every bit of self-control I can find to stop myself from dragging her into the nearest room and knotting her."
Spencer's jaw flexes, not in judgment, but in understanding.
"It's hard for me too," he admits quietly. A crack in his levelheaded armor.
"What if we just move into her apartment for now? Make it official and get a bigger bed?"
He shakes his head immediately. "There's no room."
We both know that.
"What are we going to do if she goes into heat, then?" I need the head of our pack to have answers. Ones that will soothe my anxiety and reassure me that nothing will happen to risk us ending up in a position to lose our omega.
A bad heat experience with the pack could sour her feelings toward us. It could ruin everything.
Spencer exhales and tightens his grip on my hand. "There's always an omega center. We could rent a private nest suite." His voice is deadpan and miserable.
I grimace. "She'd hate that."
He doesn't argue.
There are very few omegas who manage to feel comfortable spending their heat at an omega center. As comfortable as the facilities usually are, those places are an absolute last resort.
"Don't give up hope yet." Spencer turns toward me, so I do the same. He reaches out to stroke my cheek, and I lean into the touch. "Fate made sure we didn't miss out on the omega that's meant to be ours. Something in my gut tells me the perfect home is just around the corner."
"I hope you're right."
"No matter what happens, we're all in this together," he reassures me.
That's been true since the start for Spencer, Freddie, and me. Now I have to trust that Mia is committed to being in this with us, too.
"I'm going to head back in and make sure Freddie hasn't derailed the dinner plans in my absence," Spencer says, giving my hand one last squeeze. "Take all the time you need, but we'll be waiting for you to rejoin us when you're ready."
"Thank you."
I open my arms to him, suddenly desperate for a hug from the alpha.
He obliges, stepping forward and wrapping his arms tightly around my shoulder while mine snake around his waist. Our pack is lucky to have each other, and we're lucky to have Spencer be the one who holds us all down when things get hard.
Before pulling away, Spencer pauses to kiss me.
I love him so much.
I might be a pleasure dom and daddy for Mia, but I still melt for the head of my pack.
"This was everything I needed," I tell Spencer, finally feeling like my lungs can get enough air. "Let's both go back upstairs. I'll try to distract Freddie by asking him which tossed salad jokes I missed."
Spencer throws his head back with a laugh. "He'll love that."
He puts his arm around my shoulder, and we walk together toward the door. Moments like this remind me exactly how lucky I am.
Time to get focused on tomorrow's game. After we win, I'm thinking crab legs sound like the perfect Friday night dinner.