CHAPTER 4 JARED
Present day
The next day, I leave at the first light of dawn, at four in the morning.
Just minutes before I leave, I stop by Tommy's crib one last time, reluctant to tear my eyes away from my son sleeping with his plump lips slightly parted, softly snoring. A sleeping child is the cutest sight any parent could see.
Alex stands beside me, still sleepy and rubbing his eyes, as I gently run my fingers through my son's silky curls.
"I'll come back to you, Tommy, I promise. And I believe I'll return with someone who can be a father to you, someone who can give you the love your own father never did."
Alex looks at me, his eyes studying me intently, as if he can see all the way into my soul.
I sigh and straighten up. Together, we leave Tommy's room. I'm about to turn toward the door leading to the driveway when Alex grabs my hand. His lips tremble slightly.
"Jared, I've been thinking about what Storm suggested… Maybe you should reconsider and take Veyron with you. I got to know him pretty well when we were kids. He’s a great guy, and he could help you.
He used to work as a detective's assistant, so he’s good at poking around and finding things out. At least you wouldn't be alone."
"I don't want an alpha with me, Alex. I'm in preheat. It could end with me fucking Veyron instead of my True Mate," I mutter grimly.
Understanding flashes across Alex's face.
"Right. Shit. That's true. There's still the preheat. Wouldn't it be better to wait it out?"
"My preheat can last up to a week. And I want to… meet him. As soon as possible. I have to make this trip alone. Just… go there and let Fate guide me."
Alex suddenly seems to remember something. He raises a finger, then walks over to the kitchen cabinet and pulls out a small blister pack of pills.
"I have some kind of birth control here. It’s close to its expiration date, but just in case… you know, if things don’t go according to plan, maybe you should take one?"
I grimace, but he’s got a point. I have no idea what kind of situation I’ll find myself in once I get there, so better safe than sorry. I swallow one with some mineral water.
Alex watches me closely, his beautiful, delicate face is full of worry.
I place my other hand on his slender shoulder. Then… I hug him on impulse, pulling his small body tightly against mine.
Alex is so tiny and frail, around 5'2", while I'm 6' tall. I'm a giant for an omega, and fairly athletic at that.
"Thank you, Alex. For everything. For being so good to me and Tommy, and… for your incredible patience."
"No problem, Jared. Drive safely, and don't worry about your son. I'll take care of him. He'll be safe here."
I let him go, then bend down to pick up the small suitcase I'm taking with me. It has enough clothes and supplies for a few days, along with two bottles of strong pheromone-blocking deodorant.
If I find him… if my heat happens to start, maybe we'll get to skip straight to the more intense part of the relationship?
Well, heat could certainly make breaking the ice a lot faster.
Storm's car is already waiting outside Alex's house. He lent it to me. It's his spare car, one he says he lets people use when they need it because someone once did the same for him when he was in need.
I have a printed map with me, with the exact area that caught Storm's attention marked with a thick circle.
I place it on the passenger seat beside me, then start the engine.
Alex stands in the driveway, raising his hand in a wave. I smile, trying to reassure him, because I can still see the worry on his face.
I roll down the window and say, "Even if I don't contact you all day, that doesn't mean something's wrong. Only if you don't hear from me for a full twenty-four hours should you start thinking I might be in trouble."
Alex snorts, "I’m warning you, if you stop checking in, I’m sending Veyron to look for you!"
I chuckle, "Take care, Alex, and remember that Tommy likes to sleep with his OmegaCat plushie. If he doesn't have it, he might get fussy even if he doesn't say anything, so don't forget to put it beside his pillow."
"I'll remember."
I roll up the window, give him one last smile, and drive away.
My journey into the unknown begins, and for the first several minutes, I feel almost giddy with excitement.
But the smile on my face quickly fades as I get onto the interstate and the miles on the odometer start piling up.
My heart aches at leaving Tommy.
And as the car takes me farther away from him, the guilt fills me to the brim, because I know he'll wake up and I won't be there.
I talked to him before he went to sleep, but he didn't seem bothered.
He's still too young for me to explain all the details, although I hope someday he'll understand that I had to do this.
I had to go find the person who might change his life, too.
Feeling a gnawing tension, maybe even fear, I press the gas pedal, bringing my speed up to 85 miles per hour. Only occasionally do faster luxury cars pass me, but I keep pushing, determined to get there as quickly as possible.
I keep my stops short, mostly at drive-thrus, because I don't want to get out and attract the attention of potential fans who sometimes recognize me from Instagram, or just random alphas.
But it's not like I'm setting out completely defenseless.
I have a gun with me. I'm well aware that my appearance tends to turn heads.
I know how to make myself less noticeable: a baseball cap, dark sunglasses, and my hair tucked under a loose plaid shirt, preferably a dark one.
No makeup. Sometimes I even wear lipstick that's paler than my natural lip color, just so my lips don't stand out as much, since they're naturally a deep, vivid pink.
At times, people still aren't fooled, but thankfully, if I really put some effort into my outfit, I can cut down on the number of people who take an interest in me.
I even have a pair of non-prescription glasses with thick, horn-rimmed frames that I sometimes wear to give my face an extra dose of librarian-like seriousness.
But of course, my final line of defense is my gun. I'm a pretty good shot. Well, after being approached and harassed so many times, anyone would eventually feel the need for something like that.
With my fingers on the steering wheel and my eyes fixed on the road, I set off to meet my fate.
◆◆◆
Throughout the entire trip, I'm forcing both my mind and my body to ignore the fact that my heat is coming, and unfortunately, I think it's going to arrive sooner than I'd hoped.
The cramps in my passage are getting worse. Damn, Storm was right. I'm almost certain it'll happen within the next two days, hell… I might even wake up tomorrow morning twisting with the need to get fucked.
Several times during the drive, I have to change my underwear. I carefully rinse each pair under running water in gas station restrooms, then seal it inside a tightly tied plastic bag so the scent won't attract any alphas.
The smell of preheat isn't as strong as the scent of heat itself, but it's more than enough to affect a lot of AOs. It definitely draws attention… and awkward glances, even from omegas, who usually don't find it particularly pleasant.
Most omegas avoid going anywhere alone during this stage unless they have some kind of escort. Still, it's more manageable than heat itself. Preheat can last more than a week for some omegas, and it's hard to put your entire life on hold for that long.
To keep my mind clear during the drive, I also have to masturbate from time to time, pulling over at roadside rest areas. It's the only thing that lets me keep a clear head.
Of course, I go through one crisis after another on the road.
There are moments when I pull onto the shoulder, sit there swearing, and wonder what the hell I'm doing. Then I grab the printed map and stare at that damn patch of green Storm told me about.
After that, I smack myself in the head with the map and mutter, "Jared, you've completely lost your fucking mind. You left Tommy behind, you're driving into the unknown… what if this ends in disaster? What if something goes horribly wrong?"
I've been harassed and attacked so many times in my life… Maybe I should've accepted their offer and taken that former detective assistant, Veyron, with me?
Then something wild rises inside me. I stop listening to the voice of reason, start the engine again, and keep driving, speeding up like crazy, drowning in gloomy thoughts.
The last few years have been unbelievably hard. If it weren't for Tommy—if it weren't for holding him every evening, looking into his tiny, gentle face, and staying afloat for his sake—I don't know what would've become of me.
Mark had an explosive temper. The smallest disagreement between us, a single sentence he didn't like, and I'd end up with a slap across my face.
At least once a week, I had to wear heavy makeup so people wouldn't notice.
The only time he ever showed me mercy was before a photoshoot.
Instead of hitting me, he'd humiliate me, calling me white trash, a slut, a cumdump.
And I endured all of it for one reason alone. He knew the people who had once owned me. The guys from the Ring. His family's influence, his rapidly growing career, kept them at a distance. He was my hell… but he was also my shield.
Still, the six years I spent with him, ever since I married him at nineteen, were one long stretch of fear and stress.
The last three years were especially bad, after he decided to focus more on building his political career and handed over part of the day-to-day management of his family’s company, DarenCo, to his brother.
If it hadn't been for Tommy, I probably would've ended it all.
But I was terrified that if I died, Tommy's fate would be even worse.
So, I persisted.