13. Tommy

13

TOMMY

I blushed, glancing around the staff room as I read Nitro's dirty text message.

I knew I shouldn't be indulging in this kind of texting during work hours, but I couldn't resist.

At least, I consoled myself, I was in the staff room and not in the middle of a classroom.

Chuckling softly to myself at Nitro's last message, I closed the chat, only to notice a message from Dylan awaiting my attention.

I abruptly sat up in my seat, realizing we were supposed to meet in the cafeteria for lunch five minutes ago.

Panic set in, and I left the staff room in a hurry, my mind still preoccupied with Nitro's messages.

When I arrived at the cafeteria, having navigated through a sea of excited kids in the hallway, I came to an abrupt halt.

Dylan was nowhere in sight. That was odd. My best friend was always early, and he usually let me know when he arrived.

Concern crept in as I scanned the crowded room, searching for a familiar face that was notably absent.

Maybe one of his students kept him back?

I backtracked my way to his classroom, hoping to find Dylan there, offering an explanation for his tardiness.

But the room was empty, and there was no sign of him.

Pulling out my phone, I quickly messaged him, my fingers tapping anxiously on the screen.

Still, no response. A knot of worry tightened in my stomach. Just relax, I reminded myself, trying to stave off the rising concern.

No point in jumping to worse-case scenarios right away.

I'd always been a little paranoid, especially since regaining my freedom.

The memories of that weird and frightening figure I'd seen at my window after waking up from a nightmare flooded back.

Nitro had come crashing into my room like a maniac, and for a moment, both of us were maniacs in our own right.

"Focus on Dylan," I scolded myself, pushing those unsettling thoughts aside.

There had to be a simple explanation for his absence, and I needed to find out what it was.

I made his way back to the staff room, my steps growing more urgent with each passing moment.

My anxiety shot up surface as I scanned other areas in the school that Dylan and I frequented.

I even questioned some of the teachers and staff, hoping for any information about Dylan's whereabouts, but none could recall seeing or talking to him.

I briefly debated the idea of calling Nitro or Whizz. However, I quickly dismissed the thought.

Why was my first instinct to reach out to Nitro? It was a knee-jerk reaction, and I needed to handle this situation on my own.

Calling Nitro or Whizz felt like an unnecessary escalation at this point.

Taking a deep breath, I attempted to calm the racing thoughts in his mind.

I considered that Dylan might have had to rush out due to an emergency.

Involving Whizz could potentially cause unnecessary worry. For now, I resolved to handle the situation independently, hoping to find Dylan and put my growing unease to rest.

I glanced at my wristwatch, noting that lunchtime was coming to a close.

Passing by a familiar broom closet door, I shook my head in silent frustration.

How many times had I walked this route? Sooner or later, I had to face reality and reach out to either Nitro or Whizz.

What if something genuinely bad had happened to my best friend, and my stubbornness was preventing me from seeking real help?

Checking my cellphone once more, I found no new messages. Taking a deep breath, I decided to try calling Dylan again.

Halting in my footsteps, I strained my ears, the corridor eerily quiet now that the lunchtime excitement had dwindled.

There it was. At first, I thought I had imagined the sound, but I could unmistakably hear Dylan's familiar ringtone.

The relief that flooded through me was palpable, and I quickly followed the sound to its source.

Finally, I stood in front of the same broom closet I passed earlier, gripping my cellphone tightly in my hand.

How had I missed this earlier?

I swallowed nervously, my mind racing with unsettling possibilities.

What if I opened the door and found it empty, save for Dylan's phone?

Even worse, what if Dylan was... was what? There was no use waiting for answers. I needed to act.

I tried the knob, but the door was locked. Cursing under my breath, frustration fueling my determination, I applied more force.

Omega shifters might be weaker than their alpha counterparts, but I was still stronger than an average human.

I took a deep breath, steeled myself, and with a forceful push of my shoulder, finally forced the door open.

My heart raced as I entered the cramped space of the broom closet. There, sprawled on the floor, was Dylan—pale and unconscious.

He looked like a lifeless doll someone had propped up in there.

A jolt of fear surged through me, and I rushed to his side, my hands shaking as I checked for signs of life.

I pressed two fingers against the side of Dylan's neck. Relief washed over me as I found a pulse.

Dylan was alive! Pulling my fingers away, I noticed they came away with blood.

Not a lot, but enough to stir a knot of worry. It was time to stop playing solo detective and call for real help.

I took out my cellphone and immediately contacted Whizz.

"Tommy? Why are you calling? Did something happen to Dylan?" Whizz's voice came through urgently.

"Whizz," I whispered, trying to steady my voice. "We need help. Dylan's been attacked, but by what or who, I don't know yet."

My words spilled out in a rush, and I wasn't sure if Whizz could fully grasp the situation.

"Where are you two? Are you hurt?" Whizz demanded.

"No, I'm fine. I found Dylan unconscious in a broom closet. His neck is bleeding. We're at the school," I finally added, realizing Whizz needed to know our location.

Dang it, but I was a mess, and I didn’t know what to do in a situation like this.

"Okay, stay put, or if you think you two are in further danger, find a safe place to hide," Whizz instructed, his voice carrying a sense of urgency.

My mind raced with a hundred questions. Were we specifically targeted in this attack?

What about the rest of the school's teachers, staff, and kids? Were they safe?

"Okay," I found myself responding, trying to steady my thoughts. "I can do that."

"I'll contact Nitro. We'll both be there soon," Whizz said. "Stay safe until then, Tommy. I'm counting on you to take care of Dylan."

"You have my word," I promised, hanging up the phone.

I turned my attention back to Dylan, who was still unconscious.

With a deep breath, I focused on keeping us safe until Whizz and Nitro could arrive.

I nervously paced back and forth in Whizz and Dylan's apartment, which took up the entire fourth floor of the MC clubhouse.

It made sense, given Whizz's role as the MC's official hacker and the array of computers that occupied the space.

I continued my restless pacing, Nitro walked up to me and unexpectedly hugged me from behind, bringing my agitated steps to a halt.

I sagged against him, a wave of relief washing over me.

"Hey," Nitro whispered in my ear. "You've done all you could."

He was right. After that panicked call to Whizz, I had alerted the school.

Both students and staff were evacuated, and fortunately, no one else was hurt.

Yet, I couldn't shake off the feeling that either Dylan or I was specifically targeted, and that unsettled me deeply.

After what seemed like an eternity, Whizz and Dylan's bedroom door finally opened.

Whizz and Micah emerged, their expressions grim, and the sight of their faces stopped me in my tracks.

"What happened? Is Dylan okay?" I asked, breaking away from Nitro's hug.

My heart raced with worry and fear for my best friend.

Micah turned to me, offering a small smile and adopting what I assumed was his ‘friendly healer's face.'

"Dylan's just had a little blood loss, but he'll be back to normal in a few hours," Micah explained.

"Blood loss?" I echoed, the memory of the smear of blood on my fingers when I touched Dylan's neck flooding back.

"Who or what got him?" I heard Nitro asking Whizz, his concern mirroring mine.

The uncertainty gnawed at me, and I anxiously awaited an explanation for the unsettling events that had unfolded.

"Our guess is a vampire or some sort of paranormal creature that feeds on blood," Whizz said, his words carrying a hint of uncertainty.

I exchanged a concerned glance with Nitro, wondering what he thought of this situation.

"A vampire can't freely be moving around a kindergarten. Someone would notice," Nitro pointed out, skepticism lacing his tone.

"Unless he or she was being careful," Micah added, his voice suggesting a cautious consideration. "Thad, Zack's mate, could move around during the day if he kept to shadowed areas."

"Isn't the lead alpha of the Moon Burrow Ravens mated to an old and powerful vampire?" I asked, a shiver running down my spine.

It wasn't cold in Whizz and Dylan's apartment, but a different kind of chill settled over me.

Someone had specifically targeted Dylan. The pressing question echoed in my mind: why?

"...to get back at the MC?" Nitro was asking Whizz, but my focus wavered as I tried to grasp the gravity of the situation.

All I could think about was Dylan.

The unsettling realization that our MC might be at the center of someone's vendetta also washed over me.

"Tommy," Micah said gently. "Go ahead and talk to Dylan. He's finally awake."

I gave Micah a thankful nod and left Whizz and Nitro to their speculations.

Stepping inside the bedroom, it struck me that I'd never been here before.

The space, though not large, was cozy, equipped with a large king-sized bed, a TV, and other matching wooden furniture.

Dylan looked small on the bed as I made my way towards him. He still looked leeched out of color, a little worse for wear.

"Hey," Dylan said weakly as he spotted me. "Wipe that frown off your face."

I managed a small smile, attempting to mask the worry etched on my features.

"How are you feeling?" I asked, my voice soft.

"Not great," Dylan admitted with a weak smile.

"Yeah, you look terrible," I said, injecting a bit of humor into the conversation.

Dylan chuckled in response.

"Thanks for pointing that out," he said.

I sobered up, realizing the gravity of the situation.

"Dylan, I know you're not feeling a hundred percent right now, but do you remember anything about your attacker?" I asked.

He frowned, clearly thinking deeply.

"Yeah, someone tapped on my shoulder. Their touch was freezing cold," Dylan began, his voice tinged with unease. "When I turned around, a hand covered my mouth, and I felt this sharp pain on the side of my neck. I glimpsed a horrifying stretched-out face with burning black eyes. And then, lights out."

Dylan shuddered, and I approached him in bed, giving him a quick hug.

"Tommy, you should let him get some rest," Micah said from the doorway.

I nodded, reluctantly letting go of Dylan. He reached for my hand, and I turned back towards him.

"Come see me again?" Dylan asked, his voice hopeful.

"Of course," I replied with a nod. "I'll bring you your favorite cheeseburger and chili fries tomorrow."

Dylan grinned at that, and he gave my hand a squeeze.

"Be careful out there, Tommy. This thing might target you next,” Dylan said.

"I will," I promised.

Nitro and I left the apartment, the somber mood lingering.

We didn't speak until we reached the parking lot, where Nitro handed me his spare helmet.

"Whizz won't be letting Dylan go back to work for a few days. You should—," Nitro began, but I held out a finger.

He looked at me expectantly.

"I'm right here, and I'm perfectly fine. I can't just stop working because of this," I said, anticipating an argument, but Nitro just sighed.

"I knew you would say that. I'll be your escort to and from work," he said. "Compromise, Tommy.”

I chewed on Nitro's words for a moment, realizing my crafty mate knew I wasn't going to budge on this matter.

Dylan's warning echoed in my head, and I nodded.

I knew I was courting danger by continuing to go to work like Dylan’s attack never happened but I also wanted to get to the bottom of this.

"I can do that," I finally said.

Nitro mounted his Harley, and I got behind him. As I wrapped my arms around his waist, I couldn't shake the lingering anxiety.

"Nitro, do you really think whatever this thing is, it's targeting the MC?"

"Won't be the first time it happened. The MC has a lot of enemies," Nitro responded.

His words didn't bring me much comfort, so I only held him a little tighter.

"It'll be alright, Tommy," he assured me. "We always come out on top."