“Ah.”Sykes grinned and held up a photo still from a security camera.“But this is who he gave the money to.”
Ford laughed, recognising the face strategically tipped to be recognised by the camera.“Fuck’s sake.He paid Scratch?”He shook his head, thanked Sykes for the info, and hung up, satisfied that they had a potential lead.
“Who or what is Scratch?”Chase sounded confused, like he couldn’t fathom their use of nicknames and codenames.
Ford wasn’t sure how best to explain it, but gave it his best shot.“Scratch is an old omega, like mid-seventies at least, who sells legal highs on the street.He’s been homeless since forever and they call him Scratch because…well, because that’s what he does.He does a little ‘I’ll scratch your back, if you scratch mine’.He’s well connected to the Market.”
“Anomega?”
That was the tricky part and not, technically, his story to tell.But fuck it, he wasn’t lying to his mate.“Scratch spent a Gods-awful number of years in the Market as their pet, toy, research bunny.You name it, he probably went through it, and he didn’t come out as well as Jesi,” he hinted, though he wouldn’t mention the numerous mental breakdowns, the forced sections in a mental health facility and the memory loss he’d been through.According to his file in the ORT, poor Scratch had suffered at least four miscarriages that they knew of, had three kids taken away from him by the Market and sold, and had passed through eight different ‘owners’.
It was a miracle Scratch was alive and relatively sane.
“For all he’s been through, the man is a mountain of valuable information about the inner workings of the Market.In exchange for that knowledge, we keep an eye on him,” Ford explained, because it was important for Chase to understand.Scratch was their first stop whenever an undercover ORTa needed information without drawing attention to themselves.If they needed help but couldn’t use the usual channels, a whisper in Scratch’s ear got the right people warned to prep an extraction.“Scratch is invaluable to us and we keep him safe, clothed, fed, and slip him some money every now and then.In return, he acts like an undercover ORTa.”
“If Lincoln paid him, then?”
“Then that means we can talk to Scratch and get a pretty accurate account of what they talked about, but?” Ford leaned in close, tempted to kiss his mate, despite the potential audience, even though he knew Chase wouldn’t like being seen.“This means Scratch is the one who put Lincoln in touch with Scout.We now know the link and that Scratch had your omega’s safety in mind when he set up the meet.”
Chase smiled, satisfied with that explanation, then tilted his head up to look Ford in the eye, apparently unbothered by the proximity.“He’s not mine, you know.Lucky doesn’t belong to me or you.He belongs to both of us.”
What a feisty alpha.Ford took a drag on his cigarette.“Not yet, but he’s your true mate and that don’t need a ceremony.”
“That doesn’t make him mine.”
Intrigued by the honest, cautious answer, Ford offered his cigarette, inordinately pleased that Chase accepted.
“And Lucky would slaughter you for saying he’s mine.”
He was fascinated to see that Chase’s idea of Ford as a rival had evaporated.Before he could think of what to say, Chase tilted his head to meet his eye.
When Chase held out the cigarette, Ford indulged an urge he’d been resisting.Touching his fingers to Chase’s palm, earning a confused look but not an outright, hostile glare, he let them drift up to tangle with Chase’s fingers.He clasped his hand, loose in case he freaked out, and lifted those long fingers to his mouth to take a drag of the cigarette.
Chase snorted and sucked his teeth, a nervous gesture Ford had noticed over the last three days.“I’ll keep him safe,” he said, pushing off the car to look down at their joined hands.He met Ford’s gaze like a brazen omega testing the waters, lifted their hands to his mouth to put the cigarette between his lips, and untangled their fingers.“Thanks for the smoke,” he added, mouth twitching with amusement.
Gods, he was a temptation.As much as Lucky was, only Lucky was an omega and definitely within ‘indulge’ territory.Chase was neither, but that didn’t stop Ford from wanting to reach out and see what happened.
Chase
Once Ford drove away, Chase made his way across the quad to greet Lucky.“Hello, gorgeous.”
Lucky turned, his relief evident in a way that made Chase feel incredible.He kissed Lucky briefly, having no words to say how much he’d missed him last night.
“That was the perfect way to start any day.”Chase took a deep breath, giving off flare to calm the anxiety coming off Lucky.“Are your folks okay with Ford driving you to campus?”
“I reminded them that, between you and Ford, I’m well protected.”
Chase noticed Lucky’s friends were trying not to intrude and cleared his throat to include them.“I hear the rumour mill has gone supernova.Is there any chance it’s blown over?”
Phoenix scoffed and shook his head.“Even if it had, the two of you being on campus would spark a new wave.”
“We’ll fend them off, don’t worry.”Grant appeared beside Chase like a ghost, still toying with his phone.“I’ve already made it clear that anyone who talks to Lucky better be packing steel balls or they’re getting ripped off.”
Lucky darted in to kiss Grant’s cheek.“You were always my favourite.”
Grant snorted and tucked his phone into his pocket.“You’re hopped up on hormones.”He wrapped his arm around Lucky’s neck and gave Chase a playful shove.“And you can keep your hormones under control or we’ll be having words.”He winked at Chase and led Lucky away.
The cheeky shit was acting like this was all his fault.
