Page 64 of Omega’s Forward

That settles it about as well as anything is going to get settled today.

*

He drives me to the airport at six. Neither of us says much on the highway, which is how we like it, and when he pulls up at departures he gets out, lifts my bag from the back seat, and stands it upright between us.

“Text me when you land. Text me when you find him.” He waits until I look at him. “And ask him about the league business. This time, ask. Don’t tell.”

“Yeah.”

He hugs me hard enough to shift ribs, claps my back twice, and gets back in the car.

The airport is quiet on a Monday night. I keep the cap low anyway. One guy in a Barons hat clocks me at security and then talks himself out of it — nobody expects the captain to be flying commercial to Europe the night before the Dorn game — so I get to be just another big man with a beat-up face, minding his business.

I buy a toothbrush at the little store because I forgot mine, and a paperback I’m not going to read, and I sit at the gate with an hour to kill and my knee bouncing. I let myself remember the cooler. Two in the morning, sandwiches and electrolytes outside his door, because it was the only thing he’d let me do for him. He didn’t touch it the first night. I made more anyway. I figure being a dad runs along the same lines, and it’s the one job in this whole mess I already know I can do.

At the gate I read the email one more time. I don’t require anything from you. I heard him the first time. He can tell me again standing up, face to face, and if he means it then, I’ll take the arrangement and the schedule and whatever access he’ll give me, and I’ll be grateful, and I’ll show up anyway, every time the door opens even a crack. That kid will not grow up wondering. Whatever else gets decided in London, that part got decided this morning at my kitchen table.

I think about replying. I thought about it all day. But whatever I have to say needs saying in the same room, and I already made that call once today.

There’s one more thing to do at the gate. I open the group chat and type: something came up, family, back inside a week, take Tuesday to them. I read it twice and don’t send it. JP will say it better in the room than I can in a text, and the last thing the boys need the night before Dorn is a mystery to chew on. I message JP instead: tell them whatever works. The thumbs up comes back, and then, a second later: already done. sleep on the plane.

Tomorrow I land with no address and no invitation. There’ll be a way to find him. I’ll try his offices. Hopefully, they won’t call the police on me.

They call my group. I shoulder the bag and hand over the pass, and the woman at the gate wishes me a pleasant flight.

I find my seat, fold myself into it, and switch the phone to airplane mode with his email still open on the screen.

The cabin door closes.

20. Everett

“Heads up,” Priya says without even a hello. I stop where I’m standing, my phone to my ear with the fridge door open and a carton of milk in my hand.

“Go on.”

“Callahan came to the office this morning. He asked for your address.”

I put the milk down on the counter. My first instinct is to ask why. I know why.

He didn’t reply to the email. It was the first thing I checked when I woke up this morning. Is he going to do it the old-fashioned way and send me a letter?

Then, of course, he could be coming here, but that’s unlikely. It’s a continent away and the season is still going. He can’t leave the country now.

“I didn’t give it to him,” Priya continues. There’s a pause. I hear her take a breath. “He told me why he wanted it.”

The kitchen is very quiet. I feel a flush of guilt. She heard it from him and not from me. I’ve known her for years. She’s probably the one person I am closest to, although I’m not sure what that says about me. I don’t really have other friends. I spend my life working. It’s what I’ve always found easiest. Priya might be the closest thing I have to a best friend, but I’m under no illusions that I’m not the closest person to her. She’s a workaholic, but she still has a family and friends.

Family and friends whom I got her to leave behind so she could take over the running of the team because I was too scared to stay.

I owe her.

“Sorry for not telling you yet, Priya. I’ve only just confirmed it and—” Why not? Let’s go for full honesty. “I’m still reeling.”

“It’s okay, Everett. I understand. I really do. I’d hate to be an omega. Life really kicks you in the balls. And don’t get me started on alphas and all their shit. Take your time with whatever you need. Happy to help with whatever you need.” She pauses. “Unfortunately, what you need to do is work out what you are going to do with Callahan when he arrives.”

So… not a letter.

“He’s not coming here?”