Kidnapped By My Brother’s Bestfriend

Alonso

I had doubts about the plan, not really my mission's focus, but those thoughts lingered as I placed my burner phone on a simple wooden table in my cozy sanctuary. Surrounded by plants, this place was my new home, thanks to Ginny and her kindness. Yet, without my old office, staring at the unfamiliar items in my new kitchen made me feel strange. The compact table held notepads, pens, keys, and more succulents.

A husky voice echoed from the burner phone, reminding me to be sharp. I questioned the wisdom of the mission, fearing our cover might blow. Leon, on the line, dismissed my concerns with a chuckle, claiming danger loved him. As I plucked white strands from my jacket, I hesitated, contemplating the risks.

Leon insisted we owed Ginny thanks for getting me into the pack, but it wasn't the time for gratitude. Protecting Miley was the priority. I sighed, acknowledging our agreement from three weeks ago, a decision to change my path for an old friend. Rogue from the black ops for four years, this mission reunited me with Leon, triggering a sense of defeat as I closed my eyes.

I wasn't the one to keep in touch; Leon made efforts to maintain contact. However, I avoided certain topics that would inevitably surface if we spoke on the phone, like we were doing now. Yet, it wasn't a conversation; I found myself staring at the old brick of technology, treating it like a bomb to deconstruct. Time wasn't ticking on analog clocks I disliked, and no one's life hung in the balance—just my own, with my resolve weakening as I gazed.

"How's she doing?"

Inhaling deeply, as if I'd been holding my breath, I responded, "Your sister seems good from what I can tell."

"Have you talked to her?"

"Not yet. She's been working at the community center, organizing events or something."

He chuckled, finding it amusing. "She's always been the more organized one between us."

"Wasn't she the mastermind behind Operation Paragon?"

"Yeah, she was the brains; I provided the muscle." He coughed, clearing his throat and sounding sick. Spitting into what I hoped was a sink or toilet, he regretted taking her to Tehran.

I lowered my head. "We can't change the past, right? Anyway, she's doing alright, Leon. You can rest assured."

"Protect her at all costs."

"All costs? Like, marry her?"

He laughed, causing static. "Not in a million years, my dude. Don't even dream of it."

I shrugged. "You said all costs."

"Stay alert. But don't marry my sister."

Clear orders, and I'd respect them. With no romantic plans for Miley, it was an easy task. "10-4."

"You should have been the one in Tehran. I can't believe Douglas sacked you."

"Yeah, well..." Distance grew, and an urge to escape into the greenhouse hit me. "I should get going."

"Not before we review the plan."

Leaning back, I sighed. "Alright, hit me."

"I will if you get my sister hurt."

"Noted. I'm in the pack through Ginny. Blake and Troy know. Have to talk to their security dude, Jerrey."

Leon whistled. "Grumpy-ass bear. Be warned."

"Twice noted."

"You'll go over basics with Jerrey. I'm sorry I can't be there. Sorry you have to deal with my mess."

Shaking my head, I asked, "When have you ever apologized in our ten grim dog years?"

His stunned reaction or attempt to scrape more crap from his lungs wasn't clear through technology. "Don't get used to it," he warned. "I need to apologize to Miley too. One thing at a time. I'm in Canada and—"

Static interrupted. I held the phone to my ear. "And you need someone on the inside. I get it."

"Berna was spotted near Beaufort. No exact coordinates. Move Miley into position, draw him out, and the Blonde Dalmatians will take him into custody."

I chuckled. "Blonde Dalmatians."

"They picked their code names, not me."

"And what's your name in all this chaos?"

He sighed. "I don't exist right now, remember?"

Neither should I.

Pops should be yelling about another customer in my office. Oscar should be shedding on the stained carpet. Popcorn paint should be falling from the ceiling where I hid in the loft for some sleep.

I didn't exist then. I shouldn't exist now.

But I did.

Dragging things out, who wouldn't in this situation? "I'm not sure about this."

"You don't have to be sure about the plan, Alonso. Just protect my sister."

"What if she resists?"

He snickered. "She shouldn't. Everything should go according to plan."

"You haven't told me everything, have you?"

"Don't sound so unsure."

I rolled my eyes. "Fine. But if things go wrong, I'm coming for your ass first. Got it?"

"Sure, keep it real, dude."

"I gotta bounce. Meeting in ten."

Ending the call with a finger on the red button felt satisfying. Technology didn't evoke the same feelings these days. Even my computer, an archaic box, was reliable without the tracking concerns of touch screens.

Breathing in the scent of the freshly built home, I marveled at the builders' speed. Though compact, it was nice, built faster than I could blink. Grateful, yet suspicious of the circumstances, this uncertainty wasn't typical for me in the field.

This wasn't a standard plan or mission. A personal task from a close friend, it wasn't about me but Miley, who grew from an awkward teen into a badass soldier. Her tragic past mirrored mine—no parents, fight mode. I knew her smile hid unseen horrors, just like mine.

I understood what kept her up at night. Leon wanted me to protect her, knowing I could prevent recklessness.

An alarm beeped. In the living room, I reset the clock, marking my next task: ensuring Miley safely walked home from her job later.

"You're not on time."

I mumbled something while squeezing past Jerrey. Leon was right; the bear seemed grumpy, like he had a stick stuck in his backside. Blake and Troy sat on either side of the table, putting me in the middle. It felt like they were about to question me.

My salute got a grunt from Jerrey. He opened a thick folder and dropped it on the table. "Since our last talk, I gathered information on every step that Ray Berna has taken in the world."

I looked at the folder. "More than I expected."

"Much more." Flipping through pages, he pushed a couple of photos my way.

Berna looked the same, except his hair was thinning. Beady black eyes, gray streaks in his black hair, and sun-spotted skin. In the top photo, he was stuffing a bagel into his mouth.

"Any idea where he is exactly?" I moved the photo to see a grainy security screenshot of Berna at a counter. "Bakeries, huh?"

"He enjoys eating."

I looked at Jerrey. "You seem to know everything."

"I have friends. Your buddy does too."

"I know."

Jerrey squinted, pointing to the folder. "There's more for you to see. The task is simple. Catch the target in a trap with minimal damage."

"We've got the trap part figured out."

"And I'll handle the security. But be careful, Alonso. Everyone is on edge because of—" His head nodded to his alpha.

Blake waved calmly. "It's okay. My mother is at peace now. We don't have to be careful about that war anymore, Jerrey."

"I know. It's just..."

The room's energy changed. It felt like the alpha and his head of security had a lot of history.

I could understand that. "It's okay. Leon told me about the attack on your pack."

"So, you get how serious this is," Jerrey said firmly. "I want reports on everything."

"You'll get them. No arguments."

That made the bear shifter relax a bit. He nodded and tapped the folder. "This is top secret for our pack. Only the people in this room and Leon Mullen know what's happening."

Troy frowned. "Miley doesn't know?"

Blake nodded. "We think it's best she doesn't know, so her cover isn't blown." Before Troy could argue, Blake added, "And that means her conditions are the same—she can't leave the pack. I've already checked with her."

"Checking won't make it suspicious?" I asked.

"No, she's tired of me checking," Blake laughed. "Jerrey keeps tabs on her too. It's not unusual."

I stared at the folder, thinking about a man I used to trust. A man who almost ruined everything. Now, I would make sure things truly ended with him. "Anything else? I need a nap before tailing Miley tonight."

"Oh, one more thing, Alonso," Blake said.

Troy leaned forward. "We think it's best for you to join our customs."

"Sure," I said with a shrug. "I won't argue."

Blake smiled. "Great, then you won't mind us announcing you as part of the next mate pairing."

I choked. "The next what?"

"Mates are paired in our packs," Troy explained. "Blake plans to announce the next set of pairs tomorrow. He wants you to be one of them."

Panic set in—I wasn't used to this. Not without getting paid. "I'm not sure about that."

"You're one of us now," Blake pointed out. "Act like it. It's the best way to protect your mission."

I glared at the table, reserving my anger for Berna. This was just part of my cover. I would do my time, then bounce. Three weeks, tops. By then, any sane woman would want me gone. I could get back to being on my own.

Three weeks later.

Taking a deep breath, I agreed, "Alright, fine. But I'll still complain the entire time."

Everyone burst into laughter.