Under Siege: A Contemporary Mpreg Romance Bundle (Omega's Under Siege)

by Aiden Bates

  “That—”

  “Bastard. Yes. I know.” Ernesto took the tablet from me before I could throw it across the room.

  “He’s actually trying to make himself appear sympathetic! For the woman he murdered!”

  Ernesto clucked softly. “Rusty. You know better than that. Rasner gives orders. He didn’t get his hands dirty on this—that’s not his style.”

  “He might as well have pulled the trigger himself. The fucker’s trying to shield himself against criticism while making himself look like some kind of champion of justice in the process.”

  “I know, Rusty. I’m… I’m sorry. I know.”

  “A woman’s dead because of him, Ernesto!” Now, I was shouting. I had to pull myself back so Lissa didn’t hear me from upstairs. “Not just Alicia, but Josh, too. The other journalists who were working on the same story as Josh—dead. Josh’s sources, Derek’s friends that were working with Josh—missing, or dead too. Just so Rasner can stop Omegas from getting fucking workplace protections! Just so he can keep his goddamn image spotless while he washes their blood off his hands!”

  “Rusty. Niño. I know.” Ernesto took me by my shoulders and held me steady. “But that just means we have to work harder. Faster. Fight him on this and take him for everything he has.”

  “We have to get ahead of him.” With Ernesto steadying me, I was able to clear my head a little. Proactive. Ernesto was right. We had to beat Rasner at his own fucking game. But how? “Do we have any connections to the law enforcement in Spartanburg? Anyone who can get us information on Alicia’s murder?”

  “One,” Ernesto said with a nod. “I worked with a detective there a few years ago. I’ll send along her number to your phone. Let me get in touch first, though. See what she can give me. Meanwhile, though, cariño…you should probably stay out of sight.”

  “Ernesto…” I shook my head. “You know that’s not my M.O.”

  “Yes. I know that. Just keep in mind, Rusty…” Ernesto’s gaze was piercing. “Fort Greene isn’t friendly territory anymore.”

  22

  Daniel

  Eventually, the tears stopped. I didn’t think they ever would, but then suddenly, a strange sort of false peace washed over me. Not ease, but acceptance.

  Alicia was dead. She was dead. She was dead, and there was nothing I could do to change it.

  It was a shitty thing to have to tell myself, but I ran it over in my head again and again until I could believe it. After that, the tears didn’t come anymore. In their place, I was just left with an emptiness I knew I wouldn’t be able to fill. Not for a long time.

  Not until we’d caught whoever had done this. Until I had justice for her, there wouldn’t be any true peace.

  Similarly, eventually the thumping against the wall of Lissa’s room subsided. Either she’d run out of books, or she’d worn herself out. When I cracked her door open and peeked into her room, I discovered it was the latter. She was curled up on top of her sheets and blanket, clutching Percy the Pirate with her eyes closed.

  Fast asleep.

  I sat on the couch for a while after, looking at pictures of Lissa and Alicia. I thought maybe they’d make me feel better, but in the end they only made the emptiness in my chest feel heavier. Seeing what a precious thing we’d lost today only made it all hurt so much more.

  Maybe Lissa and Rusty had it right after all. When I searched into my heart, I found a tendril of anger there. When I latched onto it, it roared through me like a wildfire.

  My father did this. I could feel it in my fucking marrow. He knew what Alicia meant to me. He’d known, and he’d taken her away. Like a toy from a misbehaving child. He was punishing me for this. Letting me know that there was nothing dear to me that he couldn’t make disappear in an instant.

  He’d take everything from me if he had to. He’d done it before, and he’d do it again.

  I forced myself downstairs to make breakfast. It was supposed to be a distraction. It didn’t work. As soon as I forced Alicia’s murder from my head, memories of my dadr’s death surfaced in its place. I pushed those down, and the doctored photos of Rusty with my father’s aide came up instead.

  Finally, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I jumped for it, hoping it was Rusty with some good news.

  No such luck. It was my father instead. The last man on the planet I wanted to hear from right now.

  I ignored the call. I ignored the next one too, and the one after that. But when it became obvious that my father wasn’t going to stop, I finally picked up the phone and bit back a snarl.

  “What do you want?”

  A pause. Did he really have to think about what to say to me right now? Didn’t he have all of this planned out in that dirty little playbook he called a head?

  “I’m sorry to hear about Alicia,” he finally said. “It’s a tragedy, Daniel. Really. A damn shame.”

  “Sorry, Dad. You already fed that line to the reporters.”

  Another pause. “So you’ve started reading the news. I’m glad to hear that, Daniel.”

  “Oh, cut the fucking shit!” I shouted those words so loud, I nearly surprised myself. Across the room, a man in a KPS shirt who was approximately the size and shape of a PT cruiser jumped at the sound. Maybe that was for the best. It was high time my father owed up to the terror he sowed. “I know you’re behind this, Dad.”

  “I can’t believe you’d think that of me, son.”

  “Can’t you? Or are you really just so high off your own lies and manipulation that you don’t know how to believe anything anymore?” I pounded my fist against the countertop. My whole body was shaking. Control—I needed to get myself under control, or else I’d just be raging at him all day. “I know everything, Dad. I know that Rusty didn’t cheat on me. I know that he didn’t kill Alicia. And I know that you’ve got something to do with the Bicroft scandal. All your lies are about to catch up to you, Dad. And I’m going to be the one who helps prove it, too.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that you feel that way, Daniel.” At least he didn’t need to pause for that one. He’d practiced these lines before. “But I’ve never lied to you. I’ve only acted to keep you and that lovely daughter of yours safe. Russel King is a dangerous man. As soon as I heard he was back in town, why, I feared for both your lives. And now, with Alicia’s murder—”

  “Which you orchestrated!”

  “With Alicia’s murder,” he repeated. He didn’t like being thrown off his own stupid fucking speeches. He was a professional right up to the final chord. “I think it’s more important now than ever that I do everything in my power to keep you and Lissa safe. Bearing that in mind—I think you should think long and hard about what all this means for our family, and I think you should comply as best you can.”

  “Comply?”

  Before my father could answer that one for me, there was a knock at the door. Across the room, Ernesto and the big guy shared a look.

  Something told me their comrades and clients weren’t usually the knocking type.

  I hung up the phone and looked to Ernesto. “Should I…?”

  Ernesto held up a hand. “No need. Why don’t you…go upstairs, Daniel. Big Man and I will handle this.”

  But no sooner than Ernesto had opened the door than the police had him down on the ground with his hands behind his back as they flooded in. The big guy—Big Man, apparently—rushed to Ernesto’s aid immediately, only to be met by several officers small enough that they looked like they’d make an excellent Big Man breakfast. Except for one thing—they all had guns in their hands.

  “This is private property! You can’t just go barging into local businesses, arresting people like this!” I heard myself shouting and felt myself shoving my way through the line of officers before I even had time to think about it. I guessed that was the benefit of being as upper class as I was—anything I didn’t like, I met with indigence on pure genetic instinct.

  In the center of the fray, there was an officer with a shinier, fancier badge t
han the rest. I squared up to him and stared down my nose at his beady, mud brown eyes with a snarl.

  “Who are you? The fucking gestapo now?”

  The officer gave me a plaintive look, then held up a piece of paper for me to feast my eyes on.

  “We’ve got a warrant, son. Ernesto Alvarez, for aiding and abetting a murder suspect. If you don’t want to end up in cuffs yourself…how about you simmer down?” He looked me up and down, obviously unimpressed by my showboating. “You’re Daniel Rasner, I presume? I think it’d be best if you came with us as well.”

  For a moment, I considered just telling him to go fuck himself. Bring out the cuffs, then. I was looking forward to how they’d find ones big enough to go around Big Man’s wrists.

  But then I remembered Lissa, sleeping upstairs. I couldn’t get arrested. With Alicia dead, Rusty on the run from the law, and me in jail, who would look after her?

  My phone suddenly felt all too heavy in my hand.

  My father. Of course. He’d orchestrated all of this. And before we could even plan a counterattack…

  He’d already won.

  23

  Rusty

  I felt like a jackass in my hat and sunglasses. Felt like even more of one driving one of Ernesto’s low-profile surveillance cars instead of my Mustang. Back when I first left Fort Greene, I’d told Dad by the time I came back, everyone would know my name—and not just because they were afraid I was going to beat in their mailboxes or hot wire their cars, either.

  When I finally had come back, I’d made good on that promise. An MMA title under my belt and the world at my fingertips. Everyone had known the name Rusty King then.

  Of course, it’d been for my Alpha Dad’s funeral. I hadn’t exactly been able to enjoy my fame and glory then. And, big surprise, I couldn’t enjoy it now. With that news broadcast out, everyone in town would be keeping their eyes peeled for the infamous Rusty Steele, murderer of women and man on the run.

  And never mind that I hadn’t done anything. Never mind my alibi, either. In Fort Greene, innocent until proven guilty no longer applied. Not with Chief Sorenson in Rasner’s pocket and a so-called murderer on the run.

  When I called Harper and Kaleb, neither of them picked up. I kicked myself for not grabbing Derek or Nick’s numbers when I’d first come into town. Sure, it would’ve been a little awkward, asking for the digits of the two pregnant Omegas who had stolen my brother’s hearts, but it would’ve been useful to be able to call first.

  Instead, I had to swing past the house.

  As I passed the street to Harper and Nick’s, I quickly came to regret it. Just a glance toward the driveway left me blinded with the reds and blues of police car lights. I caught a glimpse of Harper and Kaleb being shoved into the back of one of the cars as I rolled by. They were both shouting and struggling. Their hands were cuffed. On the lawn, I spotted Sorenson’s ugly cropped haircut. Even just looking at the back of his head in passing, I knew he must’ve been the smuggest bastard in the entire county.

  He’d go down in Fort Greene history as the police chief who had taken in the King boys. If he got out of this okay, I imagined he’d want an award made up and everything.

  If being the key word there. If he got out of this. If I let him.

  When the day came when I got to decide how he’d pay for everything he’d done, awards and promotions would be the last thing on his mind then. On that day, he’d be thinking long and hard about mercy. How precious it was. Whether or not I might give it to him.

  Despite my revenge fantasies, Harper and Nick’s place was burned for me, though. I couldn’t carry out an investigation in that house now—not now that Harper and Kaleb had been hauled off as accomplices. I assumed they’d given themselves up with such a big show so that Derek could slip away without detection. And taking shelter in Nick’s home would only get him locked up as well for harboring me.

  Which meant I needed a plan B. Shit.

  I started making calls after that. Our people needed to know that Harper and Kaleb were in custody and that Derek might need a place to lay low for a while. But every call I made left me feeling more uneasy. Daniel—no answer. Ernesto—no answer. Not even Big Man was answering his calls, and he’d never missed out on a chance to talk MMA or anything else with me ever before.

  Something was wrong. Very wrong.

  Out of options, I opened the text Ernesto had sent me with his Spartanburg detective friend’s number in it. It had her name as well—Miranda Frank. I didn’t know if he’d had a chance to ring her up yet or not, so I’d have to drag her into this blind. But if Ernesto’s name meant anything to her, then she might have answers for me.

  It was the best shot I had, so it was the shot I’d have to take.

  “Detective Miranda Frank speaking. What can I do for you?” Her voice was cool and crisp as an autumn day. Professional-sounding, with an air of take no shit.

  Ernesto sure knew how to pick ‘em.

  “Detective. I, uh. I can’t tell you who I am.” Might as well get that out of the way immediately.

  “Alright. Good to know.” She didn’t sound impressed.

  “I got your number from Ernesto Alvarez.”

  “Ernie?” That piqued her interest. “Okay. Well, any friend of Ernie’s is a friend of mine. I’ll ask you again, Mystery Man—how can I help?”

  “He said you might know something about the Alicia Sanderson case.”

  “I…might. What’s it to you?”

  “Something’s…going down. Something big. I think Ernesto is in danger, and a lot of other people besides. Could you tell me anything about Alicia’s murder? It’s, um. Important.”

  “I can’t share those details with you, kid. It’s an ongoing investigation. If you’re a friend of Ernie’s, you probably already know that, though.” She paused. “Is Ernie okay? I owe him one. If he’s in hot water—”

  “Boiling.” I drummed my fingers against my steering wheel as I cruised back streets. We didn’t have time to cat and mouse this. And if Miranda cared about Ernesto…then if anyone was safe to lay all my cards on the table for, it was her. Sure, it was a gamble—but what else in my life hadn’t been? “You don’t have to believe me, Detective, but like I said. This is a matter of life and death. As we speak, Congressman Brent Rasner is rounding people up. Ernesto, I’ve got reason to believe, is among them.”

  “Rasner? You’re insane, right?”

  “Not insane. Scared shitless, maybe. Frustrated, definitely. But not insane. I’ve been working with Ernesto on a case that’s getting too close to Rasner. Now, he’s pulling the plug on anyone who might know anything about it. If he’s allowed to succeed, Alicia’s killer will never be brought to justice. And a lot of people are going to get hurt in the process.”

  “You sound pretty close to this, Mystery Man.” I could feel her putting a story together in her head and coming to all the right conclusions—or the wrong ones, depending on how she acted on them. “Maybe a little too close for comfort?”

  “You’ve got no idea. I’m out of allies now, Detective. I don’t know where else to turn. But the danger in this county isn’t coming from the King brothers. It’s coming from Rasner. Give me a chance and I can prove it, too.”

  “You sound pretty certain, kid. But…shit. You’re sure that this is Rasner? You’ve got proof?”

  There it was. I spotted it like an opening mid-fight, that moment of opportunity where I could swing in with a kick or a punch.

  Rasner. He was the key to all of this. And from the way she’d said his name…maybe I wasn’t the only one who wanted to take him down.

  “His own son will testify against him if we can get this case to a court, Detective. Give me these details, and I’ll get you all the proof you need.”

  Mirainda made a small hum of consideration. “You know, kid… I’ve had a hunch about Rasner for a while. …And you didn’t hear that from me.” The sound of typing on an old keyboard, the clickety-clack kind, echoed through the line.
“Dammit. Okay. Well, you’re right on one count, at least. Eight people have just been taken into custody in Fort Greene. Ernesto is one of them.”

  Eight. Kaleb, Harper and Ernesto made three. If they’d scooped up Big Man as well, four. I hadn’t seen Derek or Nick out on the lawn with Sorenson, but there was a good chance that they’d been taken in as well. Which just left…

  Daniel. He could be one of them. The numbers added up, at any rate.

  Fuck.

  “Please, Detective. I wouldn’t be askin’ if this wasn’t serious.”

  There was a long pause. The nail-biting kind. But then…

  “Okay. Yeah, alright. Give me an email address. I’ll do what I can. Not for you, though, understand? You see Ernie again, you tell him we’re even now.”

  I gave her one of the burner emails that Harper used sometimes and hung up the phone. Sure enough, as I pulled into the Sunoco station’s parking lot, I had an email from an anonymous address waiting for me in my inbox.

  She hadn’t given me everything, but she’d given me everything I could use. Alicia’s time of death was estimated at noon, around the time I would’ve been putting bugs in at Daniel’s house. It was a bad sign. Last night, I had an alibi for. But I didn’t have an alibi for when I was planting the bugs. Which Rasner probably knew.

  The bastard had killed her before we’d even realized he might be setting anything into motion. We’d been planting bugs, he’d been ordering one of his cronies to plant a bullet into his son’s best friend’s head.

  Fuck. This whole thing was fucked, and I was out of my element, swimming in it all in the dark. I didn’t have Harper’s PI expertise or Kaleb’s law enforcement pedigree. I had a phone, a vehicle…and only the vague beginnings of a plan.