Page 9 of The Gift
But leaving them is still what should happen. We should be hunting down the perpetrator, not focusing on the impending pawns in the newest game. And that’s what we’ve discussed at length, right vs. wrong, good vs. evil, helping vs. hurting. It’s in our very nature to nurture, but tracking down these people doesn’t seem right. There is a lot of lure, letting them know they have millions of dollars in compensation and help waiting—if we can find them.
When the world got caught up in the reality of the Regalo Project, the most vulnerable ran in the middle of the night. For a little while, it added more sensationalism than the discovery of the actual project. A small team of specialists had been assigned the care of a group of one hundred men and women. They were safely ensconced away, giving them a chance to heal. But before the first fucking sunrise, they’d vanished. Literally. Every one of those omegas disappeared without a trace.
Somehow it took a full day for the alert to be raised, and twenty-four hours for a desperate person is enough time to go to ground. It’s speculated that ninety percent of the survivors did. The other ten percent showed up in time, as did the stark reality of the emotional blow out that they must have suffered.
You’d have to be made of solid fucking concrete not to mourn in some way their passing. We as a society were responsible for them, and we failed. And now they’re being played again.
Omegas today are as rare as pink diamonds, as valuable too. Most certainly there are still people who view them as nothing more than a commodity. Obviously, there are omegas in our society, and the packs with them are more stable and richer. They’re also slowly rebuilding their numbers but not at the pace the world wants.
Henley’s reasons that we’re involved are solid. I’m sure he was born with a cape; his saviour complex is so strong. Admittedly, in all of our conversations about getting involved never once has he attempted to hide or counter his need to rescue. He’s owned it, he still does. And I know that him trying to not only save but help the victims is an important driver, but it isn’t the only one. But I also don’t know if I’m going to be able to watch his face, or feel his emotions, once we’re done and dusted and left without that precious gift, once again.
Because finding an omega that works for us is as proverbial as chasing down a fucking leprechaun’s pot of gold. Henley truly believes in doing our civic and moral duty. This could also be our last chance to find our omega, not to complete us but to strengthen us. And that fairy tale right there is what keeps me up at night. As much as the nightmare rising from the depths to kill them off.
I know I am not the only one worried about the fallout. Koda, in all his brilliance has done modelling on a multitude of variables and probabilities. After our time as a pack, we’ve come to understand his philosophy that numbers don’t lie, but it hasn’t stopped Henley in this crusade. He’s twisted it into an adventure almost, but I can’t see it for anything other than what it is. A paddle up shit creek. This has disaster written all over it, and while we might be lacking as a pack, we’re together. The risk we survive this as a pack rates as lowly as us finding a mate.
“I don’t ask you for much,” he says, putting his forehead to my shoulder.
“Bullshit you don’t,” I murmur, the thud of my head against the glass helps me stop from turning around and going at him. Challenging him.
“We can help them. I know it. Jesus, we save this one and find another before he does, imagine the coverage across the country. Even if we don’t succeed in finding any more, we can’t pass up the chance of them seeing what is on offer for them, but we also stick to the assholes who won’t join the Alliance. The media coverage will ensure they know. They will know that there are Alphas ready to slay the world for them. And then there’s the money that might be desperately needed. Or it might not be. But we put it in front of them, we offer to escort them back, you, me, Koda, and Reno. We are there to help them every step of the way. It can only be us. We’re already solid, man, we are the best trackers in the fucking country, and this will give us the closure we need to move on. I promise you, Ash, I need to know I’ve done everything I could to provide for you guys. If we don’t do this, I’ve let you down.”
“But we should be focused on finding the perpetrator. That is where the focus and the story should be. Not on her, not on the others. We’re going about this wrong.”
“What if by saving them we draw the killer out.”
“So, you use them as bait.”
“While fucking protecting them, Ash. We’re not dangling them there helplessly.”
“But we’re dangling them.”
Our discussion draws the other two from their room.
Reno clears his throat, and part of me stops breathing, the other part wants to rush around and dance while he confesses. Henley steps away.
“I hope this isn’t because of me.”
“You egotistical prick, of course it is. But maybe we need to rethink this!” I snap at him, but without a doubt he’d hear my relief that he’s here and out of his room.
“Too late, Ash. We’ve talked through every circle and plot hole already. You and I pushed him to do this. It was your hard-core investigative skills that touted this route as our most successful. Don’t let me spending a day moping be the downfall.” He laughs as he comes and rubs the back of my shoulders, massaging the tightness with his thumbs as he talks.
“How on earth did I think this was the right thing to do? We’re setting the whole TV series up as a fucking scam. It’s like giving crack to an addict and then flicking over the rules of the game and filming while we do an intervention,” I reply, my voice tight with stress.
“No. It’s not. We protect her. Once we know that she is without a doubt who we think she is, we give her the options. She’s in control. Hell, if she really is one of the missing, and she’s kicked ass this long, we give her the chance to tell us how she wants to deal. She might be waiting for all we know, tired of living in fear and a lie.” Koda joins the discussion, and his presence is like a piece of the puzzle, holding us all together.
“And we’re the ones to show her the error of her ways?”
“Maybe. We never said we would do any of it with an audience. She’s Bailey fucking Henderson, I’m sure she’ll be telling us what to do. She most certainly does have a chance at keeping the life she’s built for herself. Fuck, it’s the ultimate show, an omega succeeding on their own,” he says, and without turning, I know he’d be nodding his head, caught up in the hype of what he’s saying.
“Fucking enough! We all agreed!” Henley’s voice punches out, but there’s no aggression or posturing in what he says. It’s a reminder.
“Yeah, we did,” I say, pulling my shoulder out of Reno’s hand as I turn around and look at each of them. “Yet, none of us can admit that there’s a part of us doing this because what if she, or any of them, are ours? I need you all to at least tell me that you know that’s a part of it. A big part.”
They stare at me. And I stare right back. Hoping and praying that they answer for themselves, honestly, so we can put this behind us. No one looks away from my thundering glare. I’m pushing hard for resolution because like Henley said, we need to move on.
“Okay, by morning I want each of you to come see me individually and tell me if you’re in or not. Majority rules.”
Koda and Reno agree immediately, nodding their heads obediently. I go to rip them a new one, demanding… I don’t know what. Reno takes a step into the dead zone that we’re all staring at, becoming the focus.
