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I shake my head. “I don’t think so, but if I did, I wouldn’t have any regrets.”
“Not even missing out on three years of your other mates?”
I think about that, and I shake my head slowly. “I think there was a reason for that. We were all waiting for you. You make us a complete pack, Leanne. We were fumbling around in the dark before you showed up. I’m happier than I’ve ever felt, and it’s because of you.”
“That’s so sweet, Toshi,” she says.
“It’s the truth,” I tell her, taking her hands in mine. “I’ve had three years to fall in love with my other mates, and maybe we all kind of needed that time to really feel it. With you, it’s different. I don’t feel like I need any time at all. I just know. I just feel it. I love you, Leanne. You’ve stolen a piece of my heart, just like my other mates. I know it’s fast. You don’t have to say it back. I just … I feel it.”
“I feel it, too,” she admits. “For you, and for E.A. I never want us to be apart.”
“We never need to be.”
It feels like a promise, and it’s one I fully intend to keep.
Chapter Eighty-Eight
E.A.
The meet is in a dark, dingy ex-biker bar that I have to walk down a set of stairs to get into. If I was new to the city, this is exactly the kind of place I would avoid. It’s a poorly lit basement that reeks of cigar smoke and beer. The ventilation system sounds like it’s about to give up the ghost, and there are probably actual ghosts in the room, going by the number of old, suspect stains I walk past on the floor to get to the bar.
I order my Red Rum, as requested, and I’m told to take a seat while the tattooed beast of a bar tender makes the specialty cocktail for me.
It sets me back forty bucks. Pricey, but I have no doubt that has nothing whatsoever to do with the drink, and everything to do with the owner allowing this place to be used by the coalition for meetups with a secret code drink.
I take a seat in the cleanest looking booth, which has a decidedly sticky looking table.
Touching anything in here is not going to happen.
I already used the cuff of my jacket to open the door, and I’m going to put it in to a dry cleaner on the way back to the apartment. That’s how nasty this place is.
On the upside, it’s never going to attract the kind of men who buy Omegas.
They’re usually rich assholes who would run a mile from this kind of establishment.
The bartender sets the drink down too hard. It sloshes over the rim of the tall glass.
It’s a mix of liquids and it doesn’t look the slightest bit appetising.
Black on the bottom, red on top.
It looks more like a threat than an actual drink.
The straw is only there to mock me.
I’m still looking at it, when a handful of napkins land on the table.
“I wouldn’t think about drinking that,” the voice of the guy from my phone call warns. “It’s basically tar and red colored oil paint.”
“I did think it looked lethal,” I admit, looking up at the Alpha as he sits down across from me.
Oh. This is a little awkward. It’s Seth Carver. One of Frank Palmer’s bastards, and coincidentally one of Leanne’s daughter’s mates. I didn’t meet him when I went to Secret’s apartment with her mother, but he’ll have been told about me, and if he’s anything like me, which he may well be considering he basically set up the coalition, he’ll figure out who I am pretty damn quickly.
“Seth Carver,” I greet him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m E.A. Shultz.”
He frowns at me for a few seconds. “I know that name …”
“It’s possible you’ve heard of my detective agency, but it’s probably more likely you’ve heard I’m one of Leanne Leto’s mates.”
