by D. J. Heart
“We can’t… we have to report this to the police!” Chad’s voice is raised. Logan cringes and moves back, but forces himself to stand his ground.
“And let them cover it up? I don’t think so.”
Logan isn’t going to let this become one more scandal to be hushed up and shoved under the carpet. He knows what alphas are like. They stick together.
“They won’t cover it up,” Chad says, standing up and pacing back and forth. “They’ll put a stop to it the second we show them what we’ve found. I guarantee it.” His voice is pure alpha and he seems to take up all the space in the small office. Logan feels tiny and vulnerable when Chad comes to a stop in front of him, staring down at him with a stern expression.
It’s intimidating as fuck.
Logan tries not to feel cowed by Chad looming over him. He stands up and walks over to the counter to pour himself a cup of coffee while he steels himself. He’s got plenty of practice riding out displays of alpha temper, Officer Wilson being the most recent example, but very little actually arguing with one. He draws a shuddering breath and turns around.
“The police might put a stop to it, but they’ll also make sure word never gets out. And they won’t punish the alphas that bought underage omegas. There’s just no way the police would ever go after that many alphas. They’ll just say what you did: that the alphas didn’t know.”
Chad’s jaw is clenched and his expression is stubborn. “So how exactly do you think we should use this?” he asks, crossing his arms. With his puffed-out chest, tense shoulders and wide stance, he looks every inch the alpha stereotype. Logan barges on.
“I think we go public with it, and then hand the files over to the police. We need to show that the system itself is flawed. The whole rationale behind omega guardianship centers is that a beta parent can’t be expected to properly care for an omega. If we can show that guardianship centers are no better than the families they were born into, we can argue that they should never be taken in the first place. It won’t change anything, but it’ll be a powerful building block.”
Logan’s heart is racing, but he’s made his argument. He turns around and grabs his coffee cup off the counter, tightly clenching it to hide the way his hands are trembling. When he turns back around, Chad has a bewildered expression on his face.
“You want omegas to stay with their families?” he asks, sounding incredulous. Logan frowns. He can’t believe that Chad doesn’t know this. It’s what they’re working for. Letting omegas grow up free, and stay free even after finding an alpha mate.
What exactly does Chad think their goal is?
“Of course I do,” Logan says. “Why? Do you think snatching them away from their families and raising them to be sex toys for wealthy alphas is what’s best for them?”
Chad shakes his head and sits down. “No. I guess I never thought about it. It’s just how it’s always been.”
“Well… it’s fucked up,” Logan says. Chad nods, his eyes wide as he once again adjusts his worldview a little. Logan breathes a sigh of relief. Chad is on his side, and he hasn’t let his temper get the better of him.
Logan wishes more alphas were like Chad.
“So we go to the press first, and then the cops,” Chad says, feeling the words out.
“Hopefully we can get them to report on it. If the higher-ups block it, we’ll have to go through the smaller blogs and newspapers. It won’t be nearly as effective, but it should still work.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure they report on it,” Chad says. Logan feels a chill run down his spine at the predatory look in Chad’s eyes.
Sometimes it’s good to have an alpha on his side.
***
Logan types in the address of The Times and presses enter, his heart skipping a beat as the site loads and displays the day’s headline.
Pritchett Guardianship Center Dealing in Underage Omegas
Logan can hardly believe it. The Times is a conservative newspaper, and Logan knows that he never in a million years could have gotten them to print something like this without Chad’s help.
“Did you read it?” Chad asks as he walks through the door. He’s carrying a tray with two cups of coffee and grinning so wide Logan can see practically see his wisdom teeth.
“Just the headline. Did you hand the files over to the police?”
Chad had been adamant that they turn the files over the second the story was in the papers, and since he’s coming in over an hour late, Logan is pretty sure he knows where Chad spent his morning.
“Yeah. They’re launching a full investigation, though the captain was pretty angry that we’d gone to the press.” Chad hands Logan a cup of coffee before shrugging off his leather jacket and sitting down. “I think you were right about them. If we hadn’t leaked the story, they would have hushed it up.”
Logan grins, taking a sip of his coffee and moaning in delight. It’s not coffee, but his favorite hazelnut mocha that he never buys because it costs more than he spends on lunch in a week.
“Good?” Chad asks, smirking.
Logan almost chokes, blushing at the wanton sound that just came out of his mouth. “Uh, yeah. It’s very good. Thanks.”
Chad just laughs and pulls his laptop out of his bag, booting it up as he takes a sip of his own drink.
“So what are we doing today?” he asks, leaning back in his chair and stretching his legs out in front of him. Logan stares—Chad’s powerful legs encased in expensive jeans, his shirt doing nothing to hide the width of his shoulders or the size of his biceps—and for a moment he wishes that he were that comfortable in his skin.
Logan could never be so relaxed—so confident in his own body—unless he was in his own apartment, in his favorite chair, and under a blanket.
It’s not that he’s bad-looking. It’s just… he’s too self-conscious to ever let go and just be.
“Earth to Logan.”
Logan starts, and when he looks up it’s to find Chad waving a hand in front of his face.
“What? Sorry, I zoned out for a second there,” he says, blushing again. Chad smiles, but he looks a little confused.
Logan swallows a groan. The last thing he needs is for Chad to think that he’s blushing because of some sort of attraction. For one thing, Chad is happily mated. For another, Logan isn’t attracted to alphas.
Not even a little bit. No matter what his sister says. Or his mother.
The point is, Logan doesn’t find alphas appealing. He’s seen far too much ugly behavior from alphas to ever find them attractive.
No matter how big and muscular they are, or how sexy it is when they growl and he can feel the vibrations in his flesh, Logan doesn’t like alphas.
“Logan, are you okay?”
Logan looks up, realizing that once again he’s zoned out. Chad sounds worried, his brow furrowed and his laugh gone.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I just didn’t get much sleep last night. I was too nervous. What was your question?”
“I asked what we were doing today, but I think maybe you should go home and get some rest. I can get started with whatever you had planned.”
Logan’s first instinct is to say that he’s fine, but now that his anxiety that everything would go belly-up has passed, and their plan has been successful, he feels exhausted.
“You know what? I think I will go home and get some rest,” he says. “I was thinking we could spend the day writing to the state assembly members and asking them to vote no on the omega pharmaceuticals bill. Do you want to get started on that? I have a list of people we should target in my office.”
Chad nods, looking happy and energized. “That’s the one banning drugs to interfere with an omega’s heat, right?”
Logan nods. “Yeah. They were really freaked out by your rehabilitation project. I think they’re worried that omega rehabilitation might become mandatory.”
“Isn’t that what we want?” Chad asks, scratching his chin.
“Yup.” Logan grins.
“Great, I’ll get started. Do you think we stand a chance of getting anyone to vote no?” Chad runs his hand through his hair, brushing it back and out of his eyes. Logan considers the question.
“We might. There are a lot of alphas that would like it if there were a way they could get cheaper omegas. Now, that wouldn’t necessarily be good for us—it would just mean that omegas had another alpha before they were sold on—but it is a first step toward limiting resale. But the important thing is that we don’t want drugs that can fight an omega’s heat to be illegal.”
Chad pulls his legs back and sits up straight, swinging his chair around so that he’s facing his desk. “I’ll start writing and you can look over my letters tomorrow. Sound good?” He reminds Logan of a student on the first day of school, eager to do well and show off what he can do.
It’s strangely endearing for an alpha.
“I’m sure they’ll be good,” Logan says. He stands up and picks up his bag, slinging it over his shoulder. He can drink his delicious mocha as he walks. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“See you,” Chad says, grinning and giving him a little wave. Logan nods, feeling clumsy and off his game, and Chad’s grin turns into a smirk.
Logan can’t help the blush that spreads on his cheeks. Having already said goodbye, and feeling awkward like he can’t believe, he turns around and starts walking. Since it’s a nice day, he decides to walk the whole way home. It will only take about half an hour, and it saves him the dollar fifty he would have to pay to take the buss. As he walks, he finds his mind drifting until he’s thinking about Chad.
The alpha really isn’t too bad. Mellow, good-looking, and eager to help others… he’s pretty much perfect.
Logan stops in his tracks, causing an old lady behind him to very nearly bump into him.
Fuck no. He can’t be getting a crush on Chad. It would literally be the worst thing his evil mind could do to him at this point. Chad has no interest in him, and he’s taken.
Fuck.
No. Logan takes a deep breath. He does not have a crush on Chad. He’s just tired and coming off an adrenaline high.
Besides, he doesn’t even like alphas.
Chapter 4
With a day of relaxing and a good night’s sleep behind him, Logan feels much better. He wakes up feeling refreshed and energized, and honestly a little silly. The sun is in his eyes, stealing into his room through a gap in the curtains, and the heat on his face feels wonderful. Curling into a ball under the covers, he thinks about everything that’s happened over the last few days.
The memory of yesterday’s worries now makes him laugh at himself. Of course he doesn’t have a crush on Chad. The alpha is nice, attractive, and he treats Logan with respect. Logan likes him a lot—just not like that.
Though maybe he should stop trying to so vehemently deny that alphas do it for him. It’s not the worst thing in the world, is it? To be attracted to alphas? Logan doesn’t have to act on it.
Under his covers, with the real world far away, Logan lets his mind roam. He pictures an alpha—not Chad—with broad shoulders, muscular arms, and dimples when he smiles. His imaginary alpha looks at him, playful and cocky, and before he knows it Logan has put his hand on the dream alpha’s chest.
Logan moves his hand down and wraps it around his cock, stroking himself as he imagines running his hands all over his dream alpha. The fantasy moves from touching to be being touched, and before he knows it, Logan is shooting his load as he imagines his improbably perfect alpha pinning him to the mattress and fucking into him.
It’s been a long time since Logan came that hard. His balls actually hurt, and he’s grinning when he gets out of bed and steps into the shower.
The morning is off to a wonderful start.
Heading into the office— again walking and enjoying the reasonably fresh morning air—Logan wonders what will happen with the Pritchett Center now that they’ve been exposed. Or rather, what will happen to the omegas that live there. The question is still on his mind when he turns into the strip mall where his office is located, spotting Chad through the window looking very serious as he sits at his desk and types on his computer.
“Good morning,” Logan says as he walks through the door.
Chad looks up from his desk and grins. He’s still wearing his jacket, and Logan wonders if he should try to stretch the budget so that they can turn the heating up a little. He doesn’t personally mind the cold, but he doubts that Chad is used to doing without his creature comforts. Though Logan has to say the leather jacket is a good look on the alpha.
“Morning,” Chad answers. “Enjoy your day off?”
Logan nods and smiles. “I did. It was relaxing.”
Chad scoots back and swings his chair around, spreading and stretching his legs as he leans back in the rickety old chair. Logan is pleased to note that he doesn’t blush or react to Chad at all. The previous morning was a fluke, just like he thought.
“I’m glad. There’s fresh coffee in the pot, and there’s a package waiting for you in your office.” Chad makes a show of stretching his back, relaxing back into his chair with a sigh. He sounds curious when he mentions the package.
“A package? I’m not expecting anything. Who delivered it?” Logan walks over to the counter and pours himself a cup of coffee. It’s piping hot, just like Chad promised.
“A private courier. It’s marked urgent.”
Logan laughs. He can tell that Chad wants to know what’s in the package. It might be another anonymous document drop, this time the old-fashioned way. He hopes Chad doesn’t think it will always be this exciting. Most of the time the job is slow, boring, and depressing. The victories they’ve been dealt in the recent past are not the norm.
“Let’s see what it is,” Logan says. He walks into his office, and sure enough, right there on his desk is a package that looks about the right size to contain a stack of papers. Logan picks it up and carries it out to the main office area, the weight a little heavier than he would expect.
“Why did you put it in there?” he asks, running his hands over the package. It’s covered in tape, and he can’t find any edges to pull on.
“I don’t know. The courier was very adamant that you had to be the one to open it. I put it in there without thinking.” Chad stands up and stares down at him as he tries to pry the tape off. Logan can feel him looming in the background, and the attention makes him clumsy.
“I need some scissors,” he says, edging out of his seat and walking toward his office. He has a nice pair of shears that should have no trouble cutting through the unnecessary layers of tape. Chad picks the package up and spins it around, studying it before putting it down and jogging after him.
“Hey, I wrote a bunch of those letters yesterday,” he says, coming into the office and nodding down at a small stack of papers.
“Great, I can look them over after we open the mystery package,” Logan says, frowning when his scissors aren’t where he remembers leaving them. He looks up at Chad with a smile. “I’m sure they’re great.”
“I still want you to go over—”
Chad doesn’t get to finish his sentence. There’s a terrible noise and then a massive wave of pressure knocks Logan to the ground. He screams as his body is blasted to the floor.
The silence right after the explosion is absolute, but after a few seconds Logan’s ears start ringing. He looks around, confused and in shock, pushing himself into a sitting position and groaning when his body protests the movement.
The office is a mess, but the main area beyond the door looks like a bomb went off.
Logan almost has a panic attack when he realizes that a bomb did go off. He gasps in shock, looking around to see what happened to Chad. His heart slams into the wall of his chest when he sees Chad lying unresponsive on the floor a few feet away.
This can’t be happening.
Logan crawls over to Chad, noting in the back of his mind that all his limbs work and that he’s not in
any real pain, and puts his fingers over Chad’s wrist.
The alpha’s pulse is steady. Logan breathes a sigh of relief, scrambling for the phone in Chad’s pocket. His fingers are shaking, and it takes him an infuriating amount of time before he has the phone unlocked and manages to dial 911.
“911, what is your emergency?” the operator asks, crisp and to the point.
“There was an explosion in our office!” Logan shouts, his words coming fast and jumbled. He sounds shrill and almost unhinged.
“Is anyone hurt?” the operator asks, calm and unruffled. Logan takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, trying to calm down.