by Aria Grace
But now, for some reason, it’s eating away at me.
Anger fills my chest as I yank the door shut and head into the bedroom across the hall. An expensive king-sized bed dominates the room. It’s made up with a luxurious duvet and sheets with a sinfully high thread count. Just like everything else in this godforsaken apartment, it’s all part of my mask.
My deception.
It’s not like I’m ever going to risk bringing Wren into the apartment. I can’t take the chance that he might find the monitoring devices. Any seduction will have to take place in his apartment...under the watchful eye of the cameras.
I shake away those thoughts. My nausea is at an all-time high, but I bite it back. I can’t afford to grow a conscience now. There are more important things at stake. My soul is already stained with countless sins anyway, so what’s one more?
Stripping out of my clothes, I leave them in a pile in the middle of the floor and head to the closet. The suits inside are not of my choosing. They’re all carefully tailored to my measurements. All of the highest quality. High end, designer, made from the best fabrics.
But not me at all.
A past version of myself might have been impressed, but right now, I’m mostly just annoyed. I don’t even own my own clothes. Everything about me has been fabricated by the man holding my leash.
Almost everything.
Tucked back in the bottom of the closet is a duffle bag. I drag it out and toss it onto the bed. The clothes inside aren’t quite as nice, but they’re familiar and they’re all mine. I pull out a few pieces, draping them over my arm. I end up with a comfy pair of sweatpants, a t-shirt with a faded Stanford logo, my favorite boxer shorts, and some socks with a hole in one toe.
Whenever I’m starting to feel a little unhinged and adrift, I can take solace in these ties to my true self. The person I really am. At least that’s always helped in the past.
Inside the bathroom, I set the clothes on the counter by the sink and turn on the shower. It’s time to wash away the remnants of my mask.
Too hot water pounds against my skin as steam billows into the air around me. I revel in the discomfort, letting the heat chase away the demons in my head.
It might sound dumb, but the only way I’ve managed to survive this long is by compartmentalizing everything. This ritual, bathing in scalding hot water, is a kind of signal that lets me shut off the me that works for the scum of the earth and spies on desperate omegas who just want to be free.
I can momentarily escape from the darkness that I’ve allowed to become my daily life and revisit the person I wish I could be. The one who still believes I can be a good person.
Steam rises from my skin as I step out of the shower and dry myself. Wiping the condensation from the bathroom mirror, I gaze at my reflection. For a moment, everything is as it should be.
But, as I start to dress, my thoughts flicker. I picture myself outside again, walking beside Wren. It felt so comfortable, so natural. Just like the fabric of my favorite t-shirt.
I want him.
Not physically. At least, not just physically.
I want him to be mine. I want to possess him, the way only an alpha can possess an omega. I want to protect him from the threat that our mutual employer poses. I want to give him the safety and shelter he deserves.
I want so much that I can never have.
Fully dressed and completely pissed that my cleansing ritual didn’t work, I find myself lingering outside the door to the spare bedroom. The monitoring equipment doesn’t need to be supervised. I can just pop out the recorded tape and send it off to my boss at the end of the day. I don’t need to watch or listen to anything he’s doing.
But lately, it’s gotten harder to resist, and today, I’m not feeling particularly strong.
After sidling into the room, I glance at the screens.
He’s finished his shower. Thank god. He’s sitting in the living room now, looking at something on his phone. It looks like he’s talking to himself. A habit of his that I think he uses to cope with constantly being alone.
I pick up the headphones by the monitors and switch the input to the microphone hidden in the lamp beside him.
“The bastard has a way of making things impossible, doesn’t he? There’s no way anyone can earn that much money in that little time.” He looks up from his phone and lets his head fall back against the sofa. From this angle, it’s almost like he’s looking at the camera hidden in the smoke alarm on the ceiling.
“Now I’ve got the sexy alpha upstairs pining after me.” He closes his eyes and moans. “How the hell do I manage to attract someone like that right now of all times?”
I swallow the lump in my throat. He thinks I’m sexy. I guess that was the whole point, but he doesn’t know he’s being watched…which means he’s not pretending. He’s not trying to fool anyone.
“Hell, I mean, I don’t even have income from the landscaping thing,” he continues as he looks back down at his phone. “The more I go over this, the more I’m starting to think it’s pointless.”
From this angle, I can’t quite see what he’s looking at. I assume it’s a picture of some sort.
“I can’t do it.” Wren shakes his head and sets his phone on the arm of the sofa as he stands. “I can’t ask you guys for help. Not after everything that’s happened. I can’t even imagine what you’d say if I showed up at your doorstep now…after all this time.”
Frowning, I squint at the screen and try to make out the image on his phone. I think it’s an older couple. I can’t see all the details, but from the way he’s talking, it’s probably a picture of his family. Parents maybe?
My heart clenches at the revelation.
He’s trying to get back to them. Whatever happened to get him in this situation must’ve cost him his relationship with the people he loves. It’s a safe bet that our boss is exploiting that connection to keep Wren in line.
Just like he’s exploiting me.
Fuck. I push up to my feet as I take off the headphones and turn away from the monitors again. Everything I learn about Wren just makes things worse. Not to mention the growing attraction to him that is starting to drive me insane.
But, as far as I can tell, there’s no way out of this hell. At least, no way I can live with.
3
Wren
I bounce out of bed with a new lease on life.
A good night’s rest has brought me some much-needed clarity. I’ll never be able to get that money on my own, but I might be able to trade up. I’m an asset, one that’s very good at what I do. Any good pimp will know what I’m worth, and I know a lot of pimps.
Today is my day off from landscaping. Tomorrow, I’ll have to weed the flower beds and mow the lawn, but today I’ve got other plans. Plans that might just help me secure my freedom.
Eventually that is.
I dress quickly, gulp down some breakfast, and then I’m out the door before the clock hits nine AM.
Thanks to my connections to the seedy underbelly of the city, I know exactly where to find all the different “bosses” and their minions. I just need to pick the one who has the most to gain from poaching me out from under my old employer.
Then, I can negotiate a contract that lets me pay back the loan in a reasonable amount of time.
Not every boss is as cruel as mine. I’ve known other omegas in the “business” who are perfectly happy with their employers. Some guys are downright pleasant to work for. Almost as pleasant as the guy who runs Omega for Hire.
But Omega for Hire can only employ so many omegas at a time, and those of us on the waiting list are left looking for other options. That desperation gives people like my old boss the opportunity they need.
I’m apprehensive about my plan. There’s a good chance things won’t go my way and my old boss will find out. And that won’t end well. I’m not stupid enough to believe he’ll let me go without a fight, especially if I’m moving over to one of his competitors. As long as he’s got
someone sitting on my parents, I’ve got to be careful about the steps I take.
Heck, I’m pretty sure he’s got someone watching me too. He’d be stupid not to.
My blood runs cold at that thought, and my pace slows. The hair on the back of my neck prickles as I stop in the middle of the lawn and glance at the three buildings around me. Any one of my fellow tenants could be a spy from my old boss. He’s got resources and deep pockets. I don’t know why he insists on living in squalor, because he’s got the money to buy an entire high rise if he wanted.
Turning slowly in a circle, I glance at my neighbors as they slowly wander in and out of their apartments. Some of them are heading out for a morning stroll, others are rushing off to work, still others are just waking up and fetching their morning newspaper.
None of them seem particularly interested in me.
At least, not until my gaze lands on the apartment above mine. Darren is standing on his balcony with a cup of coffee in one hand. His gaze is fixed on some point in the distance, and his hair looks like he just rolled out of bed. There’s nothing immediately off about him.
And yet. My gut is telling me it can’t be a coincidence.
He approached me right after my meeting and started hitting on me after ignoring me for weeks. Heck, he even kissed me out of the blue. Plus, his apartment’s location is perfect for spying. He can hear me coming and going. He might even have me bugged.
My heart stops in my chest as Darren meets my gaze. He gives me a smile and a friendly wave. Casual, not suspicious at all.
Except, I am suspicious. Deeply and irrationally suspicious.
I wave back and nod. If he is spying on me, I can’t let him know that I’m on to him. I swallow the lump in my throat and turn slowly in place. It’s hard to keep my pace natural. Every muscle in my body is telling me to run. I can’t give him, or any other spy, the chance to follow me.
Breathlessly, I climb into my car and lock the doors behind me. As soon as I’m inside, my paranoia kicks off again. How hard would it be for him to plant a tracker on my car? He’d know where I was going without having to follow me at all.
Dammit.
But I’ve got options. This is just a speed bump, not a wall.
Maybe I’ll just have to take him on a little bit of a road trip and then ditch the car. If I do it right, he’ll never suspect a thing.
4
Darren
According to the tracker on my phone, Wren’s gone to the mall. It’s a pretty normal stop for him on his day off. He’s a window shopper, and I’m pretty sure he goes there to clear his head and get lost in the crowd. Given his background, he probably feels safe with loads of people around. I don’t blame him.
Normally, I’d follow him just to make sure he’s not meeting anyone out of the ordinary, but after a night of wrestling with my conscience, I’m really not feeling up to it. Unless he does something crazy, I’m taking the day off. The boss would have a fit if he knew, but he’s not going to find out.
My reluctance to follow Wren isn’t just because of my weary bones though. I’ve got something else on my mind. Something I’ve been contemplating for a while but could never figure out how to implement.
I’m a surveillance guy, and I’m good at what I do. I’ve worked security, espionage, law enforcement, and everything in between. Most of the time, I’m walking a tightrope between what’s legal and what’s not. Sometimes, like right now, I’m one hundred percent in the realm of not at all legal.
But that’s okay because I’ve never been caught. Although, I’ve often thought about what would happen if I was. I know my boss would disavow me the first chance he got. He’d cut me loose and there’d be nothing to tie my crimes back to him. So I’ve created a bit of insurance for myself.
The sort of insurance that results in mutually assured destruction.
Once I use it, there’s no telling what will happen next. I’ve got things I need to protect, and I can’t do that if I’m in cuffs or trying to work out a plea deal with a stubborn DA.
But watching Wren struggle against his impossible odds has me in knots. Especially because I know I’m the one who’s supposed to ensure he fails.
Taking a deep breath, I retreat into my apartment. The plan is only half-formed in my head, but I’ve got a limited amount of time to work with so I need to get focused. Nothing worth doing is without risk, I guess.
Once I’m pressed, dressed, and groomed, I set to work.
Two letters are written, and both are dropped in the mail. With what I know about the mail system in the area, they’ll both be delivered tomorrow afternoon. Using the surveillance equipment in my apartment, I make a few adjustments to the frequency of the microphones hidden in Wren’s apartment.
The crowning touch is a hastily scrawled note shoved under Wren’s front door.
It’s all a bit crude, but it should do the trick. By this time tomorrow, I’ll be in handcuffs, and Wren should be free.
That, at least, is a guarantee.
With the precautions that I’m taking, everything I’ve been trying to protect should, in theory, be safe. But it’s still a big risk, and with this much on the line, it’s something I never would have dreamed of before.
Even now, as I climb the steps back up to my apartment, I’m still in disbelief.
I’m putting everything on the line for this omega that I’ve only had one real conversation with. An omega I’ve only kissed once. An omega who will probably hate me when this is all over. An omega I’ve completely fallen in love with over the last few weeks of stalking him.
I’m trembling with anxiety as I return to my apartment.
My entire body is on pins and needles.
Everything’s going to change now. There’s no going back.
5
Wren
Dejected, I return.
No one would meet with me. None of the other bosses would even entertain the idea of discussing anything with me in person. I didn’t even get an explanation from any of them.
The sun is setting as I drag myself across the parking lot toward the apartments once more. I’m completely numb.
As far as I can tell, they were all afraid of starting a turf war. Maybe my old boss just has more influence than I thought. Or maybe he’s already reached out to them and warned them I might try to contact them. Either way, that avenue will not work.
I’m well and truly screwed.
I fumble with the lock on my apartment and shoulder the door open. If it wasn’t for the crinkle of paper underfoot, I might not have even seen the note on the floor.
Grumbling, I snatch it up and skim the scribbled message.
“Your apartment is bugged.”
Crumpling the paper in my hands, I chuck it at the far wall.
“Tell me something I don’t know, asshole,” I shout at the empty room as I push the door shut. It’s just another attempt to let me know I’m under the boss’s thumb. There’s no escaping. He can see everything I’m doing. He’ll always know where I am.
I’ll always be in his control.
“Why even bother with giving me a way out? Just refuse me if you’re going to make it impossible. Why toy with me like this, you sadistic bitch?” I continue to move through the apartment and kick off my shoes. “I’m done playing your stupid game. You want me to run around killing myself, struggling toward a goal I can’t reach. I’m done. I’m not doing it.”
I take a deep breath. It’s actually kind of liberating to just acknowledge my failure. My last act of defiance is to refuse to give the bastard what he wants. I’ve got roughly three weeks of freedom left, and I intend to enjoy them to the fullest.
It’s not giving up. It’s called accepting reality—recognizing my own limitations. Taking happiness where I can find it.
Movement overhead catches my attention. It sounds like my upstairs neighbor just knocked something over. If Darren really is the one spying on me, then he’s probably listening to everything I’m saying right now. Is
he the one who left the note? Probably, at the boss’s instructions. His lackeys tend to be loyal beyond reason. I’m sure the boss pays enough to buy anyone’s loyalty.
My lips burn with the memory of the kiss we shared at my door. Was that at the boss’s instruction too? Even if it was, the tug I felt between us had to be real, right? I swallow the desire building within me. It’s been a long time since I did anything strictly because I wanted to. Spy or not, my body wants the alpha who pinned me against the door and claimed my lips.
Hell, now that I’m resigned to my fate, there’s really no reason to hold back anymore, is there?
Steeling myself, I yank open my front door and charge back outside. I’m barefoot, but I really don’t care. My mission is two-fold, and I’m too worked up to be deterred by the feeling of cold cement underfoot.
As I crest the top of the stairs, the door to Darren’s apartment flies open. He stops short, his eyes lock with mine as the color drains from his face.
Suspicions confirmed.
“You didn’t expect me to leave that fast, did you?” I force myself to walk the rest of the way to his front door. “You must’ve been worried when I ran out the door without warning. Thought I was going to the cops?”
Darren frowns and looks away. Then he opens his mouth to speak, but I silence him with a word.
“Don’t.” I stop just in front of him. “Don’t you dare deny any of it. I don’t need to be insulted like that.”
When he meets my gaze again, his expression is surprisingly mournful. “Don’t worry. This will all be over tomorrow morning,” he assures me. “You don’t owe me anything, but if you can wait until tomorrow morning to call the police, I’d be grateful.”
