Broken Dreams (Unhingedverse)
Broken Dreams: Chapter 12

CHRISTIAN

I’m standing outside of a high rise building in Chicago, about to bullshit my way upstairs. I recognized Alesso Daventi as one of the men on the outside cameras of Slick Dreams’ last known location, and I’ve decided he’ll be a solid lead to speak to.

Alesso has never been to the club before, I know because I checked his bank records and there aren’t any large amounts of money being wired to anyone in the way Bret demands. This alpha is careful about how he transfers money, feeding it through other avenues before depositing it. He’s a money launderer for a gang here in Chicago, and a good one.

It’s his personal spending that made it easy to discern his activity for me. I don’t give a shit if he’s a criminal and a possible murderer. Someone killed Saxon, and it could have been easily any of the men that were at Makayla’s heat.

Fortunately for the other men, I only recognize Alesso because we occasionally run in the same circles. Now that she and Linus are both gone, I believe my patience has completely run out. The idea that I missed my shot forever has me very willing to burn the world down to replace them.

I’ll worship at both of their feet to make it up to them. So many lost opportunities and time. It makes me taste battery acid at the back of my throat as I swallow. Fuck, it’s time to lie my ass off or threaten my way up to the penthouse suite.

Walking inside as if I own the place, I smile at the doorman. I’m wearing a custom three piece, dark blue, pinstripe suit that screams power and money, my hair artfully styled. I also have a gun at the small of my back and one at my ankle. It’s hot as balls in this city, yet there’s not a single bead of sweat along my hairline.

To the outside world, I’m calm and confident.

“Who are you here to see today, sir?” the doorman asks, his gaze assessing as he looks at me.

This entire building is filled with high profile people, some on the right side of the law, some not. He’s right to be careful.

“I’m here to see Mr. Daventi,” I tell him, my hands stuffed casually in my pockets. Nothing to see here. “I have an appointment.”

I know he’s home because I’ve been watching the building. Careful planning, as well as pulling the blueprint plans the city has, gives me the layout of what to expect to see. There’s a stairwell that goes up, but sixty flights of stairs isn’t something I want to attempt.

The elevator is also only accessible by keycard or the override by a staff member. Right now, that’s this guy right here.

“Name, please?” he asks, brow raised. He doesn’t make any movement to call him, which makes me respect him a little more.

I have zero issues waiting the fucker out, though, or replaceing my way into that elevator.

“Christian Sanchez,” I state, not bothering to use a pseudonym.

Why would I? Alesso knows who the fuck I am.

“One moment,” he murmurs. I can see there’s a spark of recognition in his eyes as well, which means the burly man in a good suit before me has some understanding of the criminal world.

I provide a service, nothing more.

Reaching for the elegant, corded phone, he enters a two-digit number before speaking, “Hello, sir. There’s a Christian Sanchez here for you, but I don’t remember you telling me you’d have visitors today.”

He listens for a moment as I continue to stand idly by, as if I have all the time in the world. Outward impatience is a tell, and I’m not saying anything I don’t want to with my body.

“Yes, of course, sir,” the door man murmurs. “I’ll take care of it.”

That doesn’t sound promising.

There’s a garrote in my right pocket and a knife in my left. I need more information before choosing my course of action.

Hanging up the phone, he inclines his head toward me. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware of your arrival. Mr. Daventi asked me to bring you right up,” he says.

This feels much too easy, so I keep my hands in my pockets, and the easy smile on my face.

“It’s not a problem at all, after you.” I murmur.

I could say that maybe it had slipped Alesso’s mind, but that would be pushing my luck. The less I say, the better. My lips are sealed.

The doorman walks slowly, reminding me of the molasses I think of when I smell Linus. I keep the tight control on myself that I always do, despite the coiling sensation inside of me that says someone will die if I don’t get what I want.

The sounds of our shoes on the high gloss marble ring as we walk, my ears straining for anyone else that may be near, lying in wait. I’m not being paranoid when I’m used to people wanting to kill me.

I’m not a well liked man as an equal opportunity arms dealer. It’s a cross to bear that I’m well used to. I simply have to work harder to stay alive.

The button is pushed at the elevator bank, a key inserted to call it down. I’d just kill him now and be done with it, but there’s another level of security inside the elevator as well. Fucking overkill if you ask me.

“Here is the keycard to scan once you’re inside, I’ll have it take you up to the penthouse,” the doorman says, surprising me.

“That’s it?” I ask, surprised. There are many words I don’t say aloud. Why is he trusting me with this key?

“I know who you are,” he says. “I would like to get home to my pack after work today. I refuse to get into a small space with you. Just take the keycard and scan it, I’ll make sure the elevator takes you to Mr. Daventi.”

Huh, so he’s scared of me. I guess he should be since I’ve been imagining how I’ll kill him.

As the elevator doors open, keycard in my hand, I step inside, making sure that he’s in my view at all times. Scanning the card, I watch as he pulls out his cell phone and hits a couple of buttons. I’m still showing a level of trust he doesn’t deserve, and I imagine falling to my death somehow.

Overdramatic perhaps, but still a viable option.

The doors slide shut, the elevator car begins to rise, but I’m still on edge. I’m expecting more trouble than this, and I refuse to relax for a single moment. That’s when mistakes are made.

The excruciating thing no one talks about is how fucking long it takes to get to the top floor of a high rise. I don’t care how fast it’s going, it’s interminable, especially when your anxiety is making your trigger finger extremely sensitive.

Speaking of which, my firearm is already naked in my hand as I stand off to the side as the doors slide open, directly into a luxury apartment.

“I doubt you’re going to need that,” Alesso says, amused as I walk out into his home at a slow, measured pace. My eyes are searching for danger, or signs that this is a trap. “I’m also the only one here. Want to tell me why a renowned arms dealer is coming to visit little ole me?”

Ha, now he’s blowing smoke up my ass, that’s rich.

“About two days ago, you were at a club called, Slick Dreams. Is that correct?” I ask, feeling as if I’m interrogating him.

Alesso steps away from the far wall where he’s been waiting for me, walking closer. For all intents and purposes, he could have walked off the pages of a magazine for loungewear. The fucker didn’t even bother getting dressed for me.

There’s not a weapon on him, his dark hair is messy, and he’s wearing a pair of blue sweatpants. Nothing else.

“Are you asking for yourself or some kind of government agency?” he teases me easily. “I was there, but I’m unsure why that’s any of your concern.”

My anger is now taking over for my previous anxiety, and it’s wanting me to shoot the asshole. Maybe if only to see what his blood looks like on the outside of his body.

“You don’t seem like someone who would pay for sex,” I blurt out instead. Well, that’s ironic and hypocritical since I’ve been doing it for the past ten years.

Get it together, Christian.

Alesso rolls his eyes, shrugging. “Sex without the strings, a chance to be with an omega during her heat in a way that didn’t involve a bite at the end of it? The women who surround me aren’t anyone I’d want to settle down with long term. They’re fucking sharks. I thought uncomplicated sex was all I’d get when I booked my space with Slick Dreams, with a hint of what it means to ease an omega through her heat,” he murmurs.

He’s no longer denying he was there, which helps me dial back my inner beast. The one that is pissed he touched my girl. It doesn’t make sense, it’s why Bret bought her to begin with, but I’ve always hated it.

Linus, Makayla, and my relationship is a Gordian knot of intricacies, most of which are due to our circumstances and my inability to tell them they’re my scent matches.

Choices and fate, they’re tricky bitches.

“You sound as if you’re unhappy with what you found,” I state, brow raised.

“That place should be burned down,” he snarls.

“You really didn’t know Slick Dreams is full of sex trafficked omegas?” I ask incredulously.

I’ve always known, but ten years ago I didn’t care. I had an itch I wanted scratched without worries. I got Bret’s name from a contact of mine and organized a visit. It started with watching Makayla dance on stage, grew to a private booking with her for a few hours, until I made sure to see her at least every two weeks.

I knew instantly that she was mine, just like I knew two years later that Linus was as well. The longer time has worn on, the more twisted up I’ve become about it.

“No idea,” Alesso sighs. “Naive, huh? I think I had blinders on to get what I wanted. And then there she was when I walked in, her eyes filled with pain on a thin sheet on a mattress. All I wanted was to help her, no matter what that meant.”

“Is Makayla yours?” I ask, my voice filled with gravel and dust. There’s death and destruction hiding in its crevasses.

“Mine? No,” he says. “I didn’t think about the implications of being with her during her heat. It made me protective, and the owner is a fucking scum bag. We had to force him to bring water for her as well as food.”

“I’ve been trying to get Bret to sell her to me for years,” I grunt. “Not to keep her captive, but because she shouldn’t be there. Neither should Linus.”

“Well, they aren’t anymore,” Alesso says smugly, crossing his arms over his chest. His olive skin is clear of tattoos, his gaze filled with secrets. “Any other questions?”

“Yeah, actually,” I say. “You helped my omegas disappear into the night. They’re my scent matches, and I’m prepared to do some really fucked up things to replace them. I don’t suppose you have them hiding up here, do you?”

“No,” Alesso says, amused. “This isn’t exactly a great hiding place, Christian. They’re not here. They’re with two people who are scent matched with them as well. You’re serious right now though?”

“I’ve been going to the club for ten years,” I sigh, my free hand fisting to curb the urge to fuck with my hair. No weakness. “Did you see how many guards there are? It sounds as if you had a lot of luck on your side in order to be able to get them out.”

“We did,” he admits. “Everyone was busy, and Bret left Linus with us because I swear one of us was going to break his damn jaw. The man talks too much. He’s a trash heap of a person.”

“I guess we’ll agree on at least that,” I say. “Look, I need to see them. To go years hoping to get them out, and then have them both stolen from underneath my nose is a bitter pill to swallow. I missed them by hours.”

Alesso appears conflicted as he makes a noise deep in his chest. It’s the sound of someone who doesn’t want to do something, but knows he’s going to anyway. Please, be in my favor.

“I don’t believe in keeping people who are destined to be together apart,” he says. “Maybe call it my incurable romantic side. It’s why I went to Slick Dreams. If I wanted a heat to mean nothing, I figured a sex club would help me do that.”

“Makayla has a way of lighting that idea on fire,” I admit.

“Pretty much,” Alesso says. “It’s the way Linus and Makayla were together as well. All of it just made me decide they couldn’t be there any longer. Bret was pissed for some reason, regardless of the fact that we all sent money to also pay for Linus’ time.”

“That sounds like him,” I say. “The issue with a worm like Bret is that he has to be in control of everything, and it has to go his way. Without that happening, it’s easy for him to become enraged. Makayla is an easy target.”

“I figured that. Fuck. Look, I’m not supposed to do this,” he says, lips tightening. “If you are what you say you are, then you deserve a chance to prove yourself.”

I feel the weight of that statement, because I should have acted sooner. The reason I waited was because I didn’t want either of them to get hurt if I forcibly broke them out. I don’t have a pack, or people that I trust. I’m a lone wolf with a long list of enemies.

There isn’t a chance to respond because he grabs a card from a table and hands it to me.

“I already took a photo of it in case I ever need it. I have a feeling I’m lighting that boon on fire by giving this to you,” he says.

“Fuck them, you have my boon,” I say without thought, feeling the heavy cardstock between my fingers. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he says. “There’s a chance he won’t answer the phone.”

“I’m very persistent,” I warn, watching as he pushes the button to call the elevator.

“You may want to put the gun away,” he advises, making me curse in my mind as I lift my suit jacket to do that. “Listen, that card is all I know about where they could be. I’m being this magnanimous because I was curious as to what you’d want.”

Showing I hear him loud and clear, I nod as I enter the elevator. I pocket the card and leave it there as I get to the lobby, cross it, move to the door and to my car.

I resist the urge to call until I get to the first light, and then keep calling when it’s not answered.

August 1st

DUNCAN

“There’s some fucker that’s calling the forwarded line again,” I grunt, frowning at my phone.

Quinn and Linus have been with us for two weeks. We’ve been keeping things low key, handing off their new computer to search for things that pop into their minds instead of needing to ask, and they’re both making plans for schooling. In whatever manner that’ll make sense for them.

They’ve missed a lot of things in the bubble of the sex club, and I feel like they have questions they aren’t comfortable asking us. I remember the things Adira used to ask me, her cheeks flaming red. The difference now is that we’re trying to replace our way with our omegas. Conversation for Quinn is still difficult, as she’s unused to speaking much at all.

I can tell when she’s feeling overstimulated because her eyes seem to glaze over and she zones out. It freaked me out the first time I saw it because I couldn’t yell at her to bring her back like I would with Adira. I just have to let her come back to herself by rubbing her hand slowly or Linus will suggest leaving for their nest.

That’s their space. Callum and I haven’t had a conversation with them about it, but we agreed that we wouldn’t encroach on it without express consent, unless there’s an emergency.

Callum has his contacts already working on changing both their last names, as added protection before we make things official to become a pack. Neither of us are pushing for that yet. They’ve had few enough decisions in their life, we want to organically move in that direction.

It’s enough to have Quinn and Linus here, and be able to see them every day. I’m starved for the sight of them, but as soon as I do it’s as if I can finally relax. It just never lasts.

Quinn is getting accustomed to being more comfortable expressing her opinions with pen and paper, and each night, she and Linus sleep in their nest. I got a knock on my open door halfway through the first night to a sleepy-eyed Quinn demanding the shirt off my body.

Linus leaned against the wall as he watched, his shoulders quietly shaking with laughter. Her instincts are awakening, and I’m enjoying watching it all.

All bets are off when the screams begin, in the hours when the demons decide to play havoc with their dreams. It’s every night. My heart pounds as I get up and nearly run into Callum, his hair all fucked up, eyes wild. Linus’ voice rings through the hallways, but when we push into the nest, Quinn is just as tortured, her hands clawing at the sheets as she fights the beasts in her mind.

Crawling into the bed, we wrap our bodies around whoever is closest, lulling them back to sleep. In the mornings, we’re gone before they wake up. I don’t know if they even know we’re with them.

Neither of them have brought it up, anyway.

Outside of being awoken every night to hold them into the early morning hours, we haven’t had much excitement. No one has talked about a sexual relationship or made any moves toward it. She, my brother, and I may have history, but no one wants to push too hard. This is their freedom, their moment to figure out where they fit in the world, we’re here to watch and support.

But fuck, if every time they blush or perfume as they get turned on isn’t the ultimate torture. It’s making me more likely to want to blow people up for their bullshit, that’s for damn sure.

“Here’s an idea, answer the next call,” Callum teases me finally, hiding a smile. Yeah, yeah. Really funny. “Honestly, if they’re not leaving a message it’s because they can’t for some reason. There aren’t many people with that number.”

We gave it to Alesso, but wouldn’t he at least leave a voicemail? There isn’t any kind of personalized message to this forwarded account, as it’s different from my phone. It’s a beep and that’s it. No identifying information, just in case.

Alesso didn’t seem like the clingy type. Over the last two weeks, Callum has done a deep dive on the men we shared Quinn with during her heat, getting as much information as possible. Alesso Daventi is a money launderer in Chicago, with his own busy life. I doubt he’s the one calling.

“Fuck it, if they call⁠—”

Ring.

“Saints preserve me!” I scream, glad I’m alone downstairs in the office with Callum. We’ve been talking about work and what’s coming up.

Quinn and Linus are happily in their nest watching a movie at nine at night and I’m loving that for them. Typically, they’d already be working the floor, Linus told us. Never again will that happen. I have a shit list of people and there’s two on it. I plan to make good on my promises to remove people who have hurt them in my omegas’ lifetime.

I’m a vengeful man, and this is bringing out the worst in me.

“Hello?” I answer gruffly.

My brother gives me a look to get a handle on my shit, and I make a show of breathing. As if that’s going to help me. I walk around with a perpetual hard on, my hand and cock are sore from how often I fist myself to relieve the ache in my balls, and their scent is all around me. All of that has the makings for a short tempered alpha, who does not have the patience of a saint.

“Yes, I’m searching for two people, and I believe they may be with you,” a well cultured voice says with a hint of a Spanish accent.

Giving my brother a glance in return that says, “what the fuck,” I put the call on speakerphone.

“It’s an odd thing to call about the whereabouts of someone when we don’t know each other,” I say, deciding to fuck with him.

There’s no damn way I’m telling him anything without first speaking to Quinn and Linus. I also don’t know how he got this damn number.

My mind churns with unanswered questions while I force myself to stay outwardly calm. With the chaos riding my brain and my cock, it’s not an easy feat.

“I can see how this would seem strange, but cameras outside of a certain building don’t lie,” he says.

“I’m sorry, are you trying to blackmail us?” Callum asks, leaning forward at the desk he’s sitting at. “I don’t know what you saw, but I believe you’re mistaken.”

Morris made certain all the cameras facing the back of the building suffered from a disruption of service for a full six hours, meaning the same loop of footage ran as he waited for us to leave Slick Dreams. On the way in, our vehicle was parked in the alleyway, and we kept our faces averted from any cameras that were pointing in the direction of the front door of the building.

There’s not a goddamned chance he found our faces to trace it back to us or this phone. I hope his lying ass bursts into flames, asshole.

“Are you saying that Linus and Makayla aren’t in your care?” he asks, making my stomach sour.

Well, then.

“I’m saying I have no clue what you’re talking about. Why are these people so important anyway?” I ask.

The door to the office is open, I have nothing to hide from Quinn and Linus if they were to come down for something. Hell, maybe they can tell me who this is. I’m thinking this is a client that’s pissed off that his playthings are no longer readily available.

Too damn bad.

“They’re my scent matches,” the man says, finally done beating around the bush.

“Identify yourself,” Callum barks, no longer playing but not giving a damn thing away.

“They know who I am,” the man insists. “Put Linus on the phone.”

“I can’t—” The words die on my tongue as I see Quinn is standing at the door, appearing ashen. Hitting the mute button, I ignore the fucker on the phone to give my full attention to her. “Did you hear who’s on the phone, Quinn?”

Almost swaying, she nods, her nose flaring as she breathes in. Her eyes remain on mine as she walks hesitantly toward me, possession in her gaze. Oh. Did whatever Bret’s been doing run its course?

She’s been on his special medications for so long, I don’t know the lifespan of the drugs, nor when they’ll wear off. I’ve just been hoping one day…

I think that day may be today.

“Hey baby,” I rasp, waiting to see what happens.

Her gaze snaps over to Callum before looking uncertainly at me, as if she can’t figure out who to focus on. To make it easier, my brother stands and walks over to stand next to me. Her lips rub against each other as if contemplating a tasty snack before beginning to stalk forward.

I think she’s forgotten all about the alpha on the phone.

“Makayla!”

Almost tripping over her own feet, she looks at the phone, torn in two between instincts and recognition.

“I just need to make sure you know who this is, beautiful. Then I can make him go away for now,” I croon.

I want her. I need to bask in the primal knowledge that she fucking recognizes that she’s ours. This dickweed, whoever he is, I can call back. Or, he’s persistent enough to do it for me.

Her lips part as if she wants to respond with her voice, and there’s even a guttural sound that tells me it simply doesn’t want to. It’s okay, I’m not in a rush. Quinn nods instead and I hang up on him, tossing the phone aside.

“Problem solved. What do you smell, Quinn?” I ask.

Mouthing, Mine, she runs and jumps for me, fully expecting me to catch her.

“Fuck yes,” Callum rasps, chuckling when she half throws herself at him as well.

Our kisses for her are messy as she moves between us, tears flowing down her cheeks. Somehow, I don’t think they’re tears of sadness. Our girl recognizes us as hers.

One of our scent matches recognizes us, it must have something to do with her heat being triggered. I’m going to need to take a trip to a pharmaceutical clinic to replace out what could help Linus.

The omega in question leans against the door, watching us, a smile gracing his lips. He doesn’t look sad, simply resigned as he stands there.

That won’t do at all.

“Linus,” I growl, my alpha bark in full force. He straightens, his perfume filling the room as his pupils blow out. “Whatever Bret does to fuck with an omega’s biology has worn off for Quinn. That means, it’s just a matter of time.”

Quinn’s now in Callum’s arms, but she turns to look at Linus, this brilliant smile on her lips.

“We’re patient to a fault, aren’t we Quinnie,” Callum purrs. “We need both of you.”

“Which means, now that I know this, I’m going to see how I can hurry it the fuck up,” I say smugly, crooking my finger at him.

His feet move as if they have a mind of their own, dragging along the carpet until he’s standing in front of me.

“Such a good boy,” I whisper, enjoying his whimper. Clamping his chin with my fingers, I kiss his mouth hard. “Mine. You hear that?”

“Just because you can’t feel it yet, doesn’t change it,” Callum adds.

Quinn slips down his body until her feet hit the ground, holding out her hand for Linus’. Letting him go, I watch to see what the little omega has in mind.

All thoughts of whoever was on the phone definitely are gone as Quinn tugs him over to her, and she looks up at Callum. Smirking, my brother’s hands move to cup both of their faces before tasting each of their lips and then having them kiss.

It’s so fucking hot, I have to adjust myself when the three of them are suddenly kissing together. It’s a mass of lips, tongues, and teeth, forcing me to ask the sweet baby Jesus how we got so damn lucky.

Their lips are swollen when they come up for air, and all I can do is chuckle. I must have done something really good in another life to deserve this.