Chapter 55

After another day of more walking than my swelling ankles were happy about, we finally realized the gates were all busts. We’d all taken the loss and put our heads together, because that damn song was still the only lead we had. We were going through the band’s other albums in the hopes of another secret message, but so far we had nothing.

It was Matt’s idea to take the phrase less literally. What else could ‘golden gate’ refer to? Midnight Echoes didn’t have a song titled ‘golden gates,’ but was it maybe a euphemism, a business, another band?

The three of us—Matt, Jordan, and myself—spend almost three days all but locked in my office, each of us pursuing different potential. I was the one who found it; The Golden Gate Casino, its gaudy neon sign flickering in the twilight. It was one of a few establishments with ‘golden gate’ in the name, but the rest of them had all been useless.

This one, though, this one was not.

My heart raced as I scrutinized the security footage from the pawn shop across the street, my eyes locked on the casino's front doors. "There," I whispered, pointing at the screen. "That's Mia entering just before she disappeared."

Jordan leaned in, his brow furrowed. "You're right. When does she come back out?”

“She doesn’t.”

We spent the next hours poring over security tapes, and we were quickly finding exactly what we needed—and what we feared. One by one, at random nights and random times, the missing Omegas showed up to the casino in order of disappearance. None of them ever came out.

“None of them are fighting,” Matt said, chewing on the end of his pencil. I’d realized it was a nervous tic of his. “None of them are being led inside or coerced—as far as we can tell, they all entered willingly.”

I bit my lip, a chill running down my spine. "But what happened to them inside?"

My hand instinctively moved to my belly as I contemplated the implications. The missing Omegas had walked into that building of their own accord, but we didn’t know why and that didn't mean they were safe. My investigator's instincts screamed that something sinister was afoot.

"We have to go in there,” I realized, my voice trembling slightly. "They could still be alive, trapped inside."

Jordan and Matt both stared at me, their eyes widening. I gulped, my hand on my stomach as my mind whirled. I would need a disguise, I was just too high-profile, but… The image of that tiny bean on the ultrasound screen appeared in my mind.

If I put myself in danger, I put my baby in danger too.

But what could I do? If I waited much longer I’d be showing (as it was I looked a little bloated), and then the danger would be doubled because they’d know about my baby, regardless of how well I disguised myself. I could get the blueprints for the building to see if there was anywhere unused where the Omegas might be being held, but I didn’t know that they were inside for sure, and if they were the room could be a later add-on that wasn’t on the blueprint at all.

Jordan’s eyes widened even further as she realized what I was thinking. "Liv, you can't be serious. In your condition—"

"I know," I cut her off, frustration and fear warring within me. "But what choice do we have? These people need our help."

Matt was quiet for a moment, his gaze moving from my face to my belly and back again. Then he straightened, a determined look settling over his features. "I'll go," he said firmly.

“What? Matt, no.”

“It makes sense for it to be me,” Matt argued. "Everyone knows your face, plus you have the baby to worry about. Jordan’s an Omega, who knows what they’d do to her? It has to be me.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but he wasn’t exactly wrong, now was he? Still, the thought of sending Matt into potential peril made my stomach churn.

“But Matt—” Jordan cried, distraught.

“Let me rephrase; I want it to be me,” Matt stopped her. “I’m just as invested now as you two, and I’d be in less danger going in than either of you would. I’m male, a Beta, middle working class—totally inconspicuous in an environment like that.”

I worried my lip between my teeth, fighting my instincts. Matt had become someone close to me, and it was only natural for the Alpha in me to demand I keep him safe. That was just what being an Alpha meant.

But he was right, and he wasn’t some helpless pup. He was a grown man in his own right, and he’d proven himself to be both intuitive and intelligent—he couldn’t fight worth a damn, but he would either not get in trouble in the first place or he’d be able to talk himself out of it.

"Luna," Matt said gently, reading the conflict on my face. "Trust me. I can do this."

I exhaled slowly, nodding. "Okay," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "But we’re going to have a plan and a safety net. I’m not sending you in there blind, Matt.”

We were about to start forming said plan when the door swung open. Elroy strode in, his presence instantly commanding attention. My heart leapt into my throat as I glanced at the clock on my desk—time had gotten away from me, and I cursed.

I’d been sticking to a very strict schedule, stopping the investigation by 8 pm each night, but I’d gotten so wrapped up in the video footage I’d completely lost track. It was already after 9, and I instantly felt a spike of guilt for not following Iris’ directions. It made me feel like an irresponsible mother.

"That'll be all for now," I said as I dismissed Matt and Jordan, each of them closing their folders with slightly pinched looks. Neither of them were the biggest fans of Elroy at this point, but they still owed him respect as their Alpha. “I’ll see you tomorrow at the usual time.”

I was silent, stiff, and awkward as I pulled a chair over for Elroy. This had become a rhythm now, but it never felt less wooden. He sat rigidly, placing his hand on my shoulder to nourish our child as Jordan gave me a glance as the door closed behind her.

Instantly an oppressive silence fell around us, but it was better than talking. I kept my eyes fixed on the desk, while Elroy read something on his phone, facing the wall behind me and only touching me where it was absolutely necessary. I missed cuddling.

I reached for the stack of papers containing the band's lyrics. Anything to distract myself from the ache in my chest, and the hollow warmth flowing through me as Elroy’s Alpha energy made its way to our child. It didn’t linger in me the way it used to, and I knew that was because he didn’t want it to.

I was pretty sure, at this point, that Mia had been involved in writing Midnight Echoes’ songs. She wasn’t credited for it, but how else would Morse code end up in one of the songs? And why would she know about it when apparently no one in the band did?

I wasn’t a musical person, unfortunately, so I couldn’t pick through the music to find unusual rhythms like Matt could, but I could read the lyrics. I had no way of knowing how involved she might have been, but I quickly picked up a pattern. Some of the songs had a more poetic bend to the lyrics, almost literary, and the more I read the more I realized they had to be Mia’s words.

I wasn’t finding anything about gates, or casinos, or paths to freedom. What I was finding, though, was the heart wrenching loneliness of a woman in a hopeless situation. Every song was something raw and vulnerable, a desperate attempt to reach out, to make a connection.

She was an incredible musician. I wasn’t even listening to the songs, just reading the lyrics, and yet she was inspiring such deep emotion in me. She would be incredible if someone just let her.

I wondered if I was projecting. Her lyrics did feel oddly personal to me.

I wished I could sink into them properly, to really feel them—something told me I needed the catharsis—but I couldn’t do that with Elroy here. I had to be alert, as if he was going to physically attack me at any moment. I just wanted this to be over.

After what felt like an eternity, Elroy's hand lifted from my shoulder. The loss of contact was a relief, but it also hurt.

"The hour's up," he said, rising to his feet.

I looked up, a desperate plea on the tip of my tongue. But the words died as I saw the cold detachment in his eyes. Without another word, Elroy turned and walked out of the room.

The door closed behind him with a soft click, leaving me alone with the deafening silence. I stared at the spot where he'd been, my chest constricting painfully.

It was cold—transactional. It made me want to scream.

I buried my face in my hands, hot tears stinging my eyes. The ache in my chest threatened to consume me, a gaping void where warmth and connection once lived. I slumped back into my chair, a bitter laugh escaping my lips.

I wished I could wish I never met him.