by Grace, Aria
“You’d think a pudgy little sack of shit like you would know better than to stand up to an alpha. Maybe we need to do something a little more drastic?” The asshole sounds amused by his proposition.
“He ain’t worth fucking if that’s what you’re suggesting.” The first guy sounds disgusted by the idea.
“Nah, that’s not it at all.” The one holding me tosses me back to the ground.
I land heavily in the water, the chill soaking through to my bones. I think I’d be shivering if I wasn’t so terrified. Adrenaline rushes through my veins, warming me up and driving back most of the pain. My eyes dart around for an opening, but I can’t seem to find one.
“I think he just needs some permanent damage is all. Something to remember us by.” The one that was holding me spits on me then I hear a soft snick in the darkness. In the dim light, I see the reflection of a smooth metal surface on switch blade as its owner holds it aloft. The rest of the brothers chuckle in their drunken stupor, anticipating the fun in store for them tonight.
My blood runs cold as I realize the gravity of my situation. Screw pride. Screw defiance. I dig deep in my energy store and scramble across the ground, desperate to get away.
“Hold him!” The knife wielder lunges at me but I kick free of his grasp. Unfortunately, his brothers are on me before I can get more than a few feet away. They’ve got me pinned down in their strong, rough hands as I thrash uselessly against the ground.
I want to scream, but all that comes out of my throat are terrified sobs. “Please, don’t do this. I won’t talk back again. I’ll quit my job and won’t tell anyone. Please...”
My pleas fall on deaf ears. If anything, they just seem to make these guys even more eager to complete their task.
The guy with the knife crouches in front of me and presses a knee against my chest. The weight on my rib cage immediately stills my thrashing. He’s so heavy against me I can barely breathe, and the pressure feels like it’s about to crack my bones.
Then two massive hands close on either side of my head. I squeeze my eyes shut and pray for a quick death as their firm, steady grip keeps me from turning away from the knife being lowered onto my cheek.
The first slice into my skin feels like ice. There’s no pain until the blood begins to flow, and then I scream.
And they laugh.
The cutting, carving, tugging motions continue but I start to fade, unable to focus on anything other than the pain. If I’m lucky, I’ll pass out and sleep through some of this hell. I was a fool for ever thinking I could stand up to these guys. I should’ve just kept my head down and stayed out of things that didn’t concern me.
“What’s going on?” A strange voice pulls me from my fog. It’s in the distance, but at least there’s hope someone might help.
“Nothing that concerns you.” A dirty hand covers my mouth as if I have the strength to scream anymore. “Just keep walking, my friend.”
“I’m not your friend.” The stranger is closer now.
I try to open my eyes to see him, but the hand is pressing against my eyelids. I can’t see anything, but I hear footsteps approaching. Slow, measured, and alone. This new guy is just asking for trouble. With my eyes still closed, I silently pray that whoever this guy is he doesn’t wind up dead because of me. I don’t think I could live with that kind of guilt.
Of course, that’s assuming I live through this night myself.
“You’d better move along, dude.”
The hand lifts from my mouth, and I suck in several deep breaths. My ribs ache and my lips are split, but there’s so much pain everywhere that I can’t tell if anything is broken.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that.” The stranger is now just a few feet away. “Only an asshole would turn a blind eye to something like this. You might call it a character flaw, but I’m not an asshole.”
The man’s voice sounds like a gentle breeze on a warm summer’s day. It’s full of hope and warmth and makes me feel like I’ve been napping under the sunshine in a wide-open field.
There’s a tugging in my chest that I can’t explain. I want to see him, to know more about him. He can save me.
“I warned you.” The guy with the knife forgets about me and lunges at the stranger.
I can’t see what happens next, but I hear a scuffle. The pounding of flesh on flesh is concerning until I hear the sound of metal clattering to the ground and a heavy thud.
“Who’s next?” The strange man is standing with his back to me, shielding me from my attackers.
My heart skips a beat as more hope floods it. Did he really just win that fight?
The other three brothers dive toward him, each one sure they’ll be the one to drop him to his knees. As soon as they’re distracted, I scramble to my feet, desperate to find safety.
I want to stay and help, but my savior is outmatched. The chances of him winning against three big, rough, violent alphas are minimal. If I try to help, I’ll probably just get in the way. And sticking around to watch him get his ass kicked won’t help either of us.
I should run.
At least, that’s what my survival instincts tell me to do. Unfortunately, the rest of me is rooted to the spot. I should leave but I can’t, not when my hero is in danger.
I limp a few feet away to the relative safety of a nearby dumpster and crouch behind it, doing my best to hide in the shadows as I watch the scene unfold before me.
My savior is mostly obscured by his assailants, but I get a glimpse of a black trench coat every now and then. And an umbrella is lying in a puddle, discarded on the ground nearby.
He’s on the defensive right now, and the three brothers aren’t giving him much chance to breathe. Still, he’s lasting longer than I would’ve expected.
I’m not exactly sure how, but one of the brothers trips on something and the stranger doesn’t waste the opportunity. He does some fancy kick and lands a well-timed punch which knocks the one brother out, dropping him to the ground.
The other two are caught off guard by the moves and the stranger lands several heavy hits against each of them. I don’t know what sort of fighting style he’s using, but it looks like something out of a martial arts movie. He’s definitely done some sort of training, unlike the brothers who are just punk ass thugs.
The fight only lasts a few more minutes before the remaining two brothers break off the attack. They’re outmatched, and they know it. They quickly retreat, picking up their wounded and dragging themselves toward the street as quickly as possible.
I can’t believe it.
“Are you still there?” the stranger calls out to me.
I hesitantly slink out of hiding, hoping he wasn’t just saving me for himself.
My ribs ache, my body is numb from the countless kicks and punches I received earlier, and my cheek burns. But I’m alive, and I’m standing. “I think so.” I take a few unsteady steps forward, taking a quick inventory of each sharp pain.
“You should probably go to the hospital.” The man retrieves his umbrella and keeps his distance from me. “Then maybe consider some self-defense classes or something.”
“I doubt that would have helped.” I scoff at the tone that has shifted from the warm breeze of hope to something arrogant and galling.
His suit is a bit disheveled, but it’s clearly designer. What he’s doing in an alley behind a dive bar in the rough part of town is beyond me. I can’t really see his face well because of the shadows, but I get the impression he’s handsome. Despite my distaste for his current attitude, my earlier, adrenaline-fueled attraction to him only grows stronger with each second I stand there.
“Next time, I won’t be around to save you.” The man takes a few steps back but doesn’t turn away from me. “I would hate to have all of my hard work go down the drain because you don’t have the sense to keep yourself safe.” He finally turns and begins to walk away.
“Wait!” I call out to him, feeling like I need to know something about him. Something I can
hold on to when this all feels like a dream. “Can I at least know your name?”
The man stops short and looks back at me, silently considering my request.
“I’m Rubin,” I offer after a moment of silence. “I work here.” I point to the back door to the bar. “Thank you for stepping in and saving me.”
The man glances toward the door but doesn’t say anything right away. He just takes a deep breath and shakes his head. “Maybe you should try a different line of work, Rubin. You might run into fewer rough types. Take care.”
74
Marius
I’m up with the sun, as usual.
When you’re as busy as I am, your day starts early. I’ve got to be at city hall by seven because there are at least half a dozen fires that need to be put out every morning before the city council meets at nine. My assistants are more than capable of getting things organized, and most stuff will be solved with a signature or a quick phone call, but I’m the sort of person who doesn’t like to let things pile up. That’s why I took this job to begin with.
I pull on a fresh shirt and wince slightly as I go to fasten my buttons. My fingers are stiff and sore. When I look down at them, I notice they’re badly bruised, and a few have been skinned. I didn’t even notice the cuts when I got home last night or I would’ve cleaned and bandaged them right away.
God, what a crazy night.
That entire encounter in the alleyway caught me more than a little off guard. Not the fight itself but just the whole thing. I have to admit, I was pretty badass, if I do say so myself. And then there was the little chat afterwards. That’s where things got a little dicey and I’m not sure I handled things properly.
The omega I rescued, Rubin, was so earnest. He’d been badly beaten, his face was terribly mutilated, but he didn’t run when he had the chance. He’d stay behind and thanked me for saving him. I would have been fine if that was the end of it.
But then he asked for my name. And...I almost gave it to him.
My throat is dry, so I swallow several times to wet it as I finish buttoning up my shirt and head into the bathroom to find some bandages and disinfectant for my knuckles. A few minutes later, I’m back on track with my morning routine, but my thoughts keep wandering to Rubin.
Every time I think about him, my pulse quickens in an annoying way. Part of me regrets not telling him my name last night, but then the sane part reminds me I did the right thing. Even if I do feel a strange tugging sensation in my gut, telling me to go to him. It’s like a bad crush that just won’t go away.
But that can’t be right. I don’t date omegas.
I never have. I’m not attracted to them, and I genuinely don’t like being around them. And nothing pisses me off more than when people imply I need an omega just because I’m an alpha. That simply isn’t true. I’ve been perfectly happy in my relationships with beta women. They’re uncomplicated, straightforward, and basically attractive.
Of course, there are ways in which beta women and omegas are exactly the same. My last girlfriend had been pushing me to settle down before I cut her free. She wanted kids and to get married. She even asked if we could move in together. I shut that down but it didn’t stop her. She still spent months begging for a ring.
But with my career the way it is and how busy I am all the time, I’m just not ready for something like that.
Which is why I’m single now.
It’s also why I was at that bar last night. All of my last girlfriends were picked up at high-end lounges, social functions, or introduced to me by mutual connections. And all those ended in disaster. I figured I’d do something a little bit different this time around.
It didn’t go well.
Winding up in that alley wasn’t a coincidence. It was an act of desperation to try and spice up an otherwise boring night. I knew what I’d find when I went back there. I saw those alphas bully that omega out of the barroom. I only followed for something to do, not because I’m some do-gooder or what have you. Hell, I should’ve gone out there a bit faster and spared him some pain, but I was busy trying to talk myself into minding my own business. That’s never one of my strong suits, which worked out well last night. But I do regret taking my sweet ass time getting there.
The damage to his face probably would’ve been avoided if I had moved quicker, but I did what I could.
Stretching out my sore muscles, I check the time on my watch and groan. I’m already running late. My morning is off to a slow start, and that never bodes well for how the rest of the day is going to unfold. And since my guilty conscious will probably nag me until I confirm he’s okay, I decide to have my assistant track him down for me. If she can locate him today, I should be able to swing by and check on him after the city council meeting. Maybe I’ll even offer to pay his medical expenses since that’s probably one of his biggest concerns.
Still, even with that decision made, there’s something nagging at the back of my mind. Something that’s insisting that I go find him now, even though the urgency doesn’t make any sense. I shake my head and put it out of my mind as I head downstairs. There’s too much going on for me to just put everything aside for a complete stranger.
“Your breakfast shake, sir.” My personal cook is waiting for me as I approach the front door. He hands me the stainless steel travel mug.
“Thank you, Hanson.” I pause and open the lid so I can sample the shake.
“I went for a more tropical flare this morning, as you requested,” Hanson explains as I mull over the flavors.
“I definitely taste pineapple and citrus.” I smile as I close the lid. “It’s perfect, thank you.”
I can tell by Hanson’s expression that he already knows it’s perfect and that my praise isn’t necessary. Still, he nods in acknowledgment. “Will you be home for lunch?”
“No, I’ve got a working lunch with the city planner today. I’m going to be in meetings all afternoon as well, and I expect some of them to run late. I’m not sure when I’ll be home.” I sigh and reach for my coat.
“I’ll make something that keeps well in the refrigerator then.” Hanson grabs my mug and briefcase while I shrug into my coat. “I’ll be sure to mark it for you.”
“Thank. I appreciate it.” I nod at him and make my way outside.
My house sits on five acres on the outskirts of town, but it’s just inside the city limits. It’s a longer commute that I prefer, but I enjoy the solitude of driving. Besides, I like being out in the countryside. As you get closer to city hall, there aren’t many large houses or large lots, which means very little privacy for residents. While I’m the only one currently living in my five bedroom, forty-five hundred square foot home, it’s useful for hosting social functions with lots of guests. Besides, I value my privacy above convenience to a Starbucks or a mall.
As I approach the sleek silver sedan that’s parked just in front of the porch, I can’t hold back a grin. It’s a beautiful car. Especially with the sun shining overhead. The pavement is still wet from last night’s rain, but I enjoy this damp, sunshiny sort of weather. The smell of rain still lingers in the air, but birds are singing in the background.
It’s all very soothing to me.
“Good morning, sir.” Wells, my chauffeur, greets me and opens the rear passenger door for me. “Are we making any detours this morning or heading straight to the office?”
“Straight to the office, Wells.” I nod to him and step into the car without breaking stride.
He closes the door behind me, and I sigh with satisfaction. My morning routine has gotten so much smoother since I broke down and hired personal staff last year. I honestly can’t imagine my life without them anymore.
As we rattle down the road toward city hall, I flip through the emails on my phone and drink my breakfast shake. Jackie has already emailed me a copy of my itinerary for the day, so I give it a once over before we get to the office. I already know most of my schedule, but it looks like she’s slipped in a few more appointments where t
here were gaps.
Damn. Looks like I won’t have a free moment to myself all day, which is unfortunate. It can’t really be helped though. Your days tend to be full to bursting when you’re the mayor of a large city.
Regardless, I’ll still ask Jackie to track down Rubin from the bar. There’s always the chance an appointment will be canceled or a meeting will go more quickly than expected. Whatever happens, I know I’ve got to see him today.
Something in my gut tells me I’ll regret it if I don’t.
75
Rubin
Everything hurts way more today than it did yesterday.
I’m barely able to make it downstairs for breakfast without groaning like an eighty-year-old. Between the gauze on my cheek and the bruises blooming across my face, everyone in the dining room at Omega House can figure out what happened to me. A lot of them have been in similar situations themselves in the past but it’s never easy to see on someone else.
Several well-wishers ask me if I’m okay and offer to get me stuff, but I don’t like being the center of attention. It’s easier to just tell them I’m fine and don’t need anything than to admit the humiliating truth. As far as I can tell, nothing’s broken. Bruises and cuts heal with time, so there’s really no reason to fuss.
The only thing that’s really wrong is something no one can help me with. When I called my boss first thing this morning and told him I needed a few days off because I’m still recovering, he told me that if I don’t show up for work tonight, I’m fired. The asshole saw how I looked after the incident in the alley last night. He even let me go home early so I didn’t scare the customers. I actually started to think he had a heart. Apparently, I was wrong. He’s been looking for an excuse to fire me for a while now, and I think this will be it.
I saw the writing on the wall as soon as he mentioned his nephew moving to town and looking for work. I considered offering to job share so I could take a few more classes, but I couldn’t afford to lose any hours.
