Knot A Trace: Part One

The bar is quiet on a Wednesday night. It’s just as joyless as I remember, and the cheap counters are stained from years of wear. My less than impressive glass of well whiskey sits untouched as I take in my surroundings.

It’s just like old times.

I haven’t been here in ages.

“Hey, old man,” a voice grunts, and I turn to see River in his worn brown leather jacket and ripped jeans. There are more dark circles under his eyes than I last remember.

I thought he couldn’t look worse.

“You look like you aged ten years,” I mutter in reply. The last time we saw each other didn’t end well, and I don’t need to have him start talking shit already.

I’m twelve years his senior, but I don’t need to be reminded of it.

Fucking forty-four years old.

“And you’re the spitting image of health,” he snaps back, and I sigh.

Despite being a recluse, I haven’t stopped taking out my frustrations at the gym. But I’ve adopted a habit of coffee and energy drinks, with little appetite for food.

I’ve picked up on River’s habits I used to give him shit for.

“What the fuck are you here for? I don’t have time for your bullshit,” I say as he takes the stool next to me.

“From what I’ve heard, you have all the time in the world,” he counters, narrowing his eyes.

“No, asshole, I don’t have time for you,” I say, drumming my fingers on the bar counter. “I gave Landon two minutes. You’ve got one.”

“Prick,” he mutters under his breath. “Fine. We want your help. I’m sure he told you that.”

I nod. “Yeah. Some Omega in Isleton. Landon said I could help with pulling strings.”

River’s eyes narrow. “She’s not just some Omega,” he snaps, and my eyes widen slightly.

“Wow. So, she’s got you too, huh? You and Landon, interested in the same girl? What changed? You’re not working sixteen hours a day now?”

He huffs and fidgets on the stool. He bites his lip, and I can tell he wants to admit something.

Back when we were still partners, I could call him on his shit. But now the dynamic has changed, and my slightly crooked nose from when he punched me shows just how much.

“Fuck you, alright?” River exclaims, slamming his hand down on the counter, causing the few patrons to turn their heads towards us. “I didn’t want to be here. I don’t want to be talking to you, much less looking at your fucking face. I’m doing this for her. So will you help or not?”

I’m slightly stunned. River had all but sworn off any type of relationship or feelings for anyone, and now he’s meeting with me to ask for a favor.

I wonder how bitter his pride tasted when he swallowed it.

“Tell me more about it,” I finally say.

“Her best friend went missing, alright? And we don’t have enough time with all these O overdoses to put in the effort needed.”

Oh.

No wonder River doesn’t want to be here.

“Look, after everything that happened, I know you don’t want to do this, but—”

I chuckle humorlessly and shake my head. “You’re a fucking idiot. Go home.”

River’s nostrils flare, and I brace myself for a fight.

“The Isleton police have one detective. One, and they’re busy with O cases. We don’t need a lot. Just look at what we have, talk with her once—”

“You’re out of your fucking mind if you think I’m working on a missing persons case,” I say, my voice low. “Leave me the fuck alone.”

His eyes narrow. “Fuck, can you just fucking listen for a second? The reason we’re asking is that you’re the best private investigator we know. You specialized in missing persons! You have more contacts—”

“No. Fuck off.”

“Damnit, Vince. You can’t let this shit haunt you forever. We stayed, you didn’t. You owe us this.”

My fists clench.

It would be so easy to tell him to fuck off, but he’s right.

They did stay.

Even after what all three of us saw, Landon and River stayed.

And I fucking left.

“I don’t owe you anything,” I say slowly, doing my best not to repeat the last interaction River and I had two years ago.

River sighs loudly and rolls his eyes. “Fine,” he grits out. “Whatever is left of your cold, dead, whatever-the-fuck you have for a heart, could you please just talk to her?” He looks like he wants to vomit as he says it. “Just once. And if you really want nothing to do with any of it, then you can fuck right back off into your hovel of an apartment.”

We hold each other’s gaze, neither of us daring to blink.

Fuck.

I finally turn away from him and swallow the whiskey down, letting the alcohol burn my throat.

“Tell me where to meet her,” I say finally, staring into the empty glass.

I don’t want to do this…

But for once, River is right.

I probably owe them this.

My fingers twitch as I grip the steering wheel.

I haven’t been out much in the last two years, much less driven this far out of my town.

I don’t want to fucking do this.

I’d like to be anywhere but in the parking lot of April’s Café.

Fuck.

That’s the name of the missing girl, isn’t it?

Fuck Fuck Fuck

But I force myself to open the car door, ignoring the absolute shitstorm that swirls in my head.

I’m supposed to be the one in control. I’m not supposed to act like River, like a loose cannon that can barely function every day.

But the crunching of leaves and the snap of twigs under my feet in the parking lot remind me of a tangled mess of hair caught in branches…

I exhale slowly and pull open the door to the café, and I’m welcomed with warmth.

The noise in my head quiets enough for me to focus.

The scent of vanilla, cinnamon, and other sweets fills the air, along with the dark smell of coffee.

It’s just like any other café. I catch whiffs of sweet Omegas mixing with the freshly baked cookies. Subtle Alpha scents fill the air as well, tempering down the aromas. The well-lit cases are full of different baked goods, and on the counter there’s a Macaron Flavor of the Day sign next to the cash register.

As I walk up to the counter, I notice the flavor is April’s Apricots.

The café is quaint, well-kept, and welcoming.

“Hi there! Can I help you?”

I’m greeted by a petite blonde girl with a warm, friendly smile, likely in her early twenties. She’s an Omega, her scent sugary but subtle. Devyn is written on her name tag.

“Hello,” I say, trying my best to act like a normal person. “I’m looking for Skylar Bloom. Is she around?”

Devyn widens her blue eyes, and her mouth falls open slightly. “Are you here about April?” she asks excitedly. “Are you friends with River and Landon?”

I cock an eyebrow. The River and Landon I knew from two years ago would certainly not be on a first name basis with this girl.

“Not friends,” I confirm. “I’m just here to talk to Skylar.”

Her smile falls, just slightly. “Sure,” she says, keeping the upbeat inflection in her tone. “I’ll be right back.”

I stare at the Flavor of the Month sign.

All proceeds from April’s Apricots go to reward money for information on April Waters and her disappearance.

There’s a small picture as well, showcasing an attractive brunette with dark eyes and light brown hair.

April Waters. Despite never wanting to do this again, the cogs are already turning in my brain.

I barely glanced at the notes Landon sent me, but now I wish I had paid more attention.

“Hi there,” a voice chirps, and I’m met with a pair of dark blue eyes.

Oh, shit.

My reaction is involuntary. It’s as if something activated the Alpha part of my brain. I’m suddenly very aware of the Omega in front of me.

Her scent is just like the café, only with more notes of blossoms, honey, and…

Perfection.

She’s older than I expected, too. She’s not some young college-aged girl. This is a woman with depth, wisdom, and experience.

And she has no right being so damn beautiful.

I should walk away right now, I think.

Now it makes sense why River and Landon were so focused on helping her.

She smiles at me, and I realize I’m well and truly fucked.