Rhodes falls into step with me once I lock the vehicle up, shrugging at my words.
“At the end of the day, omegas have it hard in this sport,” he says. “He doesn’t know us, and we’re from a rival team.”
“I’m planning to change that.”
“It’s so hot when you ignore all societal norms and go full out psycho-dom,” Rhodes says dreamily.
“It’s one of the many reasons you love me,” I say, hitting the elevator button.
“It is. However, not everyone enjoys your brand of crazy,” he says.
“I would think it’s better than any other kind of flirting. Stalking and obsession is a dying art,” I retort.
The elevator takes us to the twelfth floor, and I continue my plotting. Rhodes is right. What if Koen is already claimed? How far am I willing to go for this?
A pinch on my ass makes me yelp, and Rhodes chuckles as he unlocks our door.
“Are we going to be coy and pretend there’s any other outcome but for Koen to be ours?” I add.
Walking into our apartment, I begin to think about what I want our next home to look like. Life moves quickly for hockey players, and it’s why we’ve always rented our homes. I’m beginning to wonder if it’s time to set down some roots in a place that has some character.
“What do you think about buying a house in Lakeview?” I muse, ignoring the fact that I haven't heard Rhodes say a word since we entered the apartment.
Sitting on the couch, I open my laptop and enter Keon’s name into the search engine. If I was worried that Rhodes was pissed off, I’d stop and reassess things, but this is normal. Still, I sneak a glance over toward him while he slowly sits down on the couch across from me.
“Should I call Dana while you work on making sure our omega is a free agent?” he asks, pulling his phone out of his pocket.
“Please. Are you okay with all this? I know that I’m a grenade in a pond when I get excited,” I admit.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this before, not really,” Rhodes says, leaning forward on his thighs in thought.
His muscles ripple irresistibly, and I bite my fist in appreciation.
“I’m good with this, baby,” he tells me. “If we’re chasing the omega, then I’m all in. We’ll do anything and everything to make it so that we’re all he sees. Stalking his favorite bar, knowing where he gets pizza, what his favorite charities are so that we can get paired up with him. Koen won’t know what hit him.”
“Fuck, I love you so much,” I groan. “My cock needs to be knot deep in your ass very soon. Now, the good news is that I’m not seeing any evidence of a pack in my search. There’s no photos of him with anyone, man or woman. I’m going to text a private investigator to give me everything they can.”
“Let’s go,” Rhodes says, his head already bobbing up and down to a song only he can hear as he makes a call. “Hey Dana? Yeah, it’s Rhodes. Sky and I have a request to make. How likely is it for the Lakeview Cougars to take both of us in a trade?”
Leaving Rhodes to sweet talk Dana, I text Fishman. Rhodes and I meant it when we talked about how community programs saved us growing up. We both come from nothing, and there are always shady people who want to recruit kids to do their dirty work.
Fishman was a dirty cop who quit to go into private investigation. I first met him when I got into trouble as a kid, and he scared the fuck out of me before he asked me to keep my eyes and ears open for him. I gave him information in exchange for money, and it kept me out of the gangs.
I owe him a lot for that.
We ran into each other again here and there when Rhodes and I were rookies. Once we started making money and I found that we needed things done, we started to keep Fishman on retainer.
Sometimes when he’s not working for us, he also chases down bond skips when things are slow, and he has very little interest in morals as to how he gets shit done.
Me
I need everything you can get me on Koen Jeffries. No detail is too small. Most importantly, I want to know if he’s on any type of scent blocker.
I’msure I’m showing my hand here, but I don’t fucking care. Koen didn’t show any signs of knowing who we were to him, and that pisses me off. So instead, he’s getting the serial killer type of wining and dining.
Fishman
You got it. Give me a week, please. I’ll get you everything I can.
