Alpha & Omega

by K. Webster

His flesh and mine.

  One tiny, throbbing, black heart. One big, strong pounding one big enough for two.

  Just Al and Lark Miller.

  Forever . . . in this moment.

  I CAN’T BELIEVE I’m taking her to HEA Corp. But we need the file. I need to talk to Father Lester. We need to figure this shit out.

  As we ride across town in the cab, I squeeze her hand. She’s been thoughtful during the drive as she looks out the window, clutching on to the backpack in her lap. I wish I had access to her mind.

  “We’re almost there,” I mutter aloud.

  She nods without taking her eyes from the window. Honestly, I’m surprised she’s still here. Last night, when I spilled what I could, I’d expected her to run for the hills. Instead, she took it like a champ, overlooking my dusting over the whole “angels and demons” aspect.

  And then.

  Holy mother of God.

  And then she gave me a blow job sinful enough that would have likely made even Luc I. Furr himself drop to his knees and beg for mercy. Not only was she the first blow job I’ve ever had—I think—but she gave me the best. That part I just know.

  The cabbie pulls in between the nondescript sister buildings and stops. I toss him a wad of bills and help Lark out of the car. Everything that has value to her is in the backpack she hands to me. This morning, before we left, she pulled her box down and wrapped up a framed ultrasound picture in a T-shirt that was also inside. When she lifted a photo album and I looked at her curiously, she quickly shoved it into the bottom of the bag along with a few other items. She ended up leaving an empty jewelry box but took the two wedding rings inside and slipped them on the chain of her cross. After tossing a few changes of clothes and her purse inside, she was ready to leave her apartment behind. She can’t stay there anymore if I have any hope of saving her.

  It sickens me that all she has in this life fits in that bag.

  She has me now though, and I don’t fit in the damn bag.

  “I’ve passed by here a million times. Who knew?” she asks mostly to herself.

  “Come on. Keep your head down and follow me. We’ll get in and get out,” I instruct as I take her hand once she’s put on her backpack.

  We slip into the building, and thankfully, nobody is hanging around in the lobby. As I escort her over to the elevators and hit the button to go up, I take another brief scan to make sure nobody is watching. If I can make it in and out without running into Pallas, I’ll be doing great. With a ping, the doors open and we make it inside undetected. A rush of relieved breath escapes me as I glance down at Lark and wink at her. She looks cute as hell in her black tank that says, Bad is the new good.

  “I love you, Twiggy,” I blurt out. With this woman, weird shit comes out of my mouth all of the time. It’s true though, and I’ll tell her until I take my last breath.

  She smiles back at me. “I know, big boy.”

  When the elevator opens to the second floor, I pull her behind me. Here, we’ll have more trouble passing through unnoticed. This is the Minder’s quarters when they’re not out on assignment, and there’s always someone walking around. I hurry us down the hallway until I find Omega’s and my unit and punch in my code—1818—to get in.

  I flick on the light near the door and see that everything appears just the same. Our single window overlooks the alley between the two HEA and HEL buildings. Both beds are in shambles because we’re guys and guys don’t make beds. No pictures or decorations adorn the walls or surfaces. At the end of each twin bed is a desk with a laptop and piles of papers. I release Lark’s hand and stalk over to mine, which is closest to the window. Her file sits on top.

  “Here it is,” I tell her. “Turn around and we’ll put it in your bag.”

  She raises a brow. “Al, I want to see.”

  My mind quickly checks through what I remember being in the file. I don’t think anything can incriminate me and what I truly am, so I hesitantly hand it to her.

  “Listen, Lar, this file is bullshit. I know that now. So please don’t get upset with me.”

  She frowns but nods. Once she takes it from me, she sits down on my bed and flips it open. The “drug-addicted” picture of her is clipped to the front.

  “I remember taking this picture,” she whispers in a sad tone.

  I sit beside her, wrap an arm around her, and pull her to me. “Were you on drugs?”

  Her hollow laugh sends a chill down my spine. “Actually, yes. That was the day of Connor’s memorial service. I could barely function, so my mother made me take something the doctor had prescribed and was safe for the baby to calm my ass down. Mom knew I would hate to miss the final goodbye to him and I wouldn’t ever go if I continued throwing up and sobbing hysterically, so she pretty much forced it down my throat. God that was a sad day.”

  Drug-addicted. Those motherfuckers lied to me.

  She flips the pictures up and begins reading every negative thing about her. Things I now know are made-up bullshit.

  “These people you work for make me sound evil.” She sighs with a ragged breath. “Alpha, I’m not evil. I might be a bitch. I might have a heart the size of my thumb. But I am not evil.”

  I kiss her head with reverence. “Baby, you are far from evil.”

  “Death-obsessed and satanic? What the fuck?” she explodes. “Drug-addicted. Negatively influences small children. This is sick, Al. Fucking sick. And unfuckingtrue!”

  I hug her tight against me. “Yes, baby, I know. I’m so sorry.”

  “For the record, I have my reasons for being the way that I am. My dad is a professor at UCLA. He teaches religion and modern critical thought in the fall and topics in philosophy of religion in the spring. Since I was a baby, all I’ve ever heard about were his ramblings on theology. It was sort of ingrained in me,” she reveals. “And my mother oversees funeral services at her church. I grew up running around caskets with dead people while Mom decorated the church or worked on the service pamphlets. I was a kid who grew up around death and continually learned about afterlife. Death-obsessed? Only one person on this planet could get away with teasing me on the matter, and ironically, he’s dead. But these people—they can go fuck themselves.”

  Holy shit.

  “They’re wrong about you, Lark. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. There must be some sort of error on their part, because none of this makes sense. Until it figures itself out, if that can even happen, I’ll take you away from here and keep you safe.” My voice is a solemn promise.

  She slams the file shut and turns to me with tears in her eyes. “I’m so over this life.”

  Her words rip through my chest, and I want to vomit—and there’s not a mirror in sight.

  I take the file from her and set it beside me. “You can’t mean that, Twiggy. I’m in this life.”

  Tears roll out and she presses her eyes shut. I raise my thumb to her cheek and wipe away a tear.

  “Sometimes, Al, I wish I weren’t here. All this life has ever provided was confusion, then heartache and more confusion, and in the end, I know there will be more heartache. I can feel it all the way down to my toes. Now, as all of this comes out, I understand why. You’ll be taken from me just like he was. I’m not equipped to be in this life. God messed up when he made me. I’m a fucking defect of a human.”

  I growl out my disagreement, but she shakes her head no.

  “I’m right. By the end of the week, you’ll be dead and I’ll be wherever the fuck life decides to plant me next. But rest assured, I’ll be confused and heartbroken. Just like always,” she sobs.

  I help her slide her backpack down off her shoulders and place it on the floor. “Baby, you have to have hope. You can’t assume the worst. I’m not going anywhere.”

  She chuckles darkly at me. “Big boy, I gave hope up a long time ago. Hope was stolen away from me the moment death took my husband and then my baby. Hope fucking sucks.”

  Leaning in, I kiss her lips and try to wordlessly convey that things
will be okay. We need to get the fuck out of here before we’re caught, but I need to somehow prove to her that I’m not going anywhere.

  Breaking away from her lips, I tell her fiercely, “I love you, Lark Miller. We’re in this together—until the very end.”

  A single tear rolls down her cheek as she nods at me. Whether or not she wants to believe it, I see it lying there just below the surface—the hope, the love. She may think I’m insane because my heart and soul decided to fuse themselves to hers, but she’s just as guilty even though she’s too afraid to voice it.

  “What if the end is tomorrow?” she questions.

  “Then, Twiggy, we’re going to carpe fucking diem.”

  “We’re almost there,” I call out over my shoulder. After we sneaked back out of HEA, we took a cab to the diner and grabbed a quick lunch. Now, we are trotting to the church with my Lark on my back.

  As we approach the church, a dirty, homeless man steps in front of us. “Can you spare any change? Do you have any food?”

  The man is tall and incredibly bony. All I have is sixty bucks left in my wallet, and I had hoped to use that for cab fare to head to Lark’s parents’ house across town. But the sadness mixed with the glimmer of hope in his eyes has me easing Lark to her feet and fishing for my wallet.

  I pull out all three twenties and hand them to him. “Sorry, buddy. This is all I have.”

  He grins broadly at me. I expect to see missing teeth, but instead, his smile is radiant. The man must still take care of his oral hygiene even while being homeless. If I had more time, I’d want to hear his story. He looks as if he needs someone to lend him an ear.

  “Thank you, kind sir. You have no idea how this will help me,” he says, his voice gracious. “And please call me Clarence.”

  I hear Lark unzip her bag, and she retrieves a package of Oreos. The smile on my lips is instant.

  “Oreos are their own food group, Clarence,” she tells him as she hands him the cookies and winks at me.

  When he reaches for her, my protective guard goes up, so I watch him like a hawk. Without hesitation, she takes his hand with both of hers and shakes it.

  “Good luck to you.” She smiles before releasing him.

  He beams at both of us once more. “God be with you both.”

  As we begin to walk away, I notice the man’s dirty feet. “Where are your shoes?” I question.

  “I don’t have any.”

  He’s about my size. I take my shoes off and hand them both to him. “Now you do.”

  The man’s eyes brim with tears and he nods his thanks as he accepts them. We wave our goodbye to the man and walk hand in hand up to the church.

  “Al, anyone ever told you you’re an angel?” Lark asks.

  My heart clenches with pain in my chest. It’s a damn shame I’ll never have the opportunity to be one. The sadness for this loss of my identity hurts so fucking much but the exchange more than makes up for it. Lark will always be worth it.

  “I think you’re the first,” I tell her.

  She squeezes my hand and flicks her green eyes, which are shining with pride, toward me. “Well, you are. You’re like my very own guardian angel. Let’s just hope you get to stick around.”

  She’s right. I may not live past tomorrow. I for sure won’t ever get my Seraph Guardian wings. But I’ll protect and love her until my dying breath. With Lark, the rules don’t matter.

  The only thing that matters is her.

  THE CHURCH IS empty, but all the lights are on. My shoeless guide leads me down the hallway toward Father Lester’s office. Last time we were here, I wanted to crawl inside myself and hide—to disappear from the feelings Alpha had invoked in me. Now, I feel the slightest inkling of something so sinister that I want to go running back toward my internal safe haven. The niggling inside is a feeling I thought I’d eradicated from my life.

  That feeling is hope. And I hate it.

  “Let me do the talking,” Alpha says with a crooked grin that makes my heart skip a couple of beats in my chest. The way his right brow rises in a playful way makes his black eyes seem dark blue, and with a smile that grows even broader, he almost reminds me of . . .

  “Is everything okay?” Father Lester questions as he steps out of the doorway of his office. His eyes flit over to me, and I don’t miss the disdain in them. It’s clear he thinks I’m not good enough for Alpha. And while he may be right, it still hurts.

  “Actually, no,” Al sighs.

  Father Lester groans but stalks back into his office. Yep—I’ve pissed off the preacher man just by being me. Story of my life.

  I send Alpha an apologetic look, but he shakes his head and reaches for my hand. Because of Father Lester’s obvious distaste for my relationship with Alpha, I’m hesitant to flaunt it in front of him, especially considering that he might be able to help us. When I don’t accept his hand, he takes a step forward and steals my hand away anyway. Then he squares his shoulders and his features morph from anxious to resolved.

  “Let’s go, Twiggy.”

  As we enter together into the small office, I see Father Lester digging around in a cabinet with his back to us. Alpha leads me over to the two chairs in front of the desk and we sit down.

  “These should fit,” Father Lester grumbles as he tosses a pair of worn-out tennis shoes to Alpha, who catches them with ease and bends to put them on.

  When my eyes meet the now angry ones of Father Lester, my heart sinks. What if he doesn’t help us? What if this is just a waste of our very precious time?

  Father Lester tears his eyes from mine as he walks around to the other side of the desk and sits in his chair. The air feels thick with tension as Alpha ties both shoes and sits up to face the man. His back is stiff and he seems prepared for battle.

  “Father,” Alpha begins, but he’s silenced by the old man’s raised hand.

  “I know. You’ve clearly failed your final assignment. She’s still alive though, which means you’ve done the unthinkable with her.”

  I bite my lip.

  Alpha nods solemnly. “In a sense, yes.”

  Father Lester sends a glare my way but speaks to Al. “Son, I told you that if you were tempted by the woman, I could help you. Why didn’t you come for my help sooner? You know I must turn you in now.”

  Tears well in my eyes. I knew coming here was a bad idea.

  “Father, with all due respect,” Alpha practically growls, “they were wrong. The file was wrong. There’s some sort of mistake about Lark. She’s not what they think.”

  Once again, Father Lester’s eyes flicker over to me. He doesn’t seem at all convinced. I’m sure that, in his eyes, I’m the epitome of evil, from my wild, dark hair, to my clothes, to every tattooed square inch of my flesh. Big, bad wolf here dressed like a black sheep.

  “Son, it doesn’t matter what the file says. You had a job to do. Your job had nothing to with investigating your assignment. The only job you had was to protect her until they came. And sleeping with her was certainly not part of the job.”

  I bite my tongue as a million rude remarks to this old man sit right on the tip of it, just waiting to be unleashed. Al seems to think we need him though, so I’ll be quiet. For now.

  “I know, but—” Alpha tries, but the old man waves him off again.

  “But nothing, boy. You failed. Now I need to give Pallas a call. There are certain repercussions for your actions.”

  “Please, Father Lester,” Alpha begs, “help me. They don’t have to know. I’ve been remembering things . . .”

  Father Lester’s eyes darken at his admission. “Things? Like what?”

  Alpha turns his gaze toward me and once again frowns in apology. “Like my name. Glimpses of my past. Small flashes of memories.”

  His name. A shudder courses through me at the reminder. He believes he shares the same name as my dead husband. The irony is not lost on me.

  “I see.”

  “Before, when I was here,” Alpha suddenly rushes out, “
you said you began remembering your past. What did you do?”

  Father Lester grumbles and leans back in his chair, but I don’t miss the brief glimpse of sadness in his eyes. “I remembered my brother. Unfortunately, my brother was a bad man. Very evil. Our company was not wrong in their assessment of him.”

  “Wait. You were to protect your own brother and then handed them right over to the bad guys?” I demand harshly and interrupt their exchange.

  Alpha curses under his breath and shoots me a look that says, Shut up, but I can’t.

  “Young lady, by you being here, listening to our business talk, so many rules have been broken. Poor Alpha will undergo the harshest of punishments all because of you and your evil temptress ways. You’ve stolen from this company someone who could have made a name for himself. Now—well—now, he’ll be nothing but a disappointing waste of company resources.”

  A ragged breath rushes from Alpha, and I suddenly feel as if I’m the one protecting him. Standing quickly, I glower at the preacher man.

  “You”—I point at him—“are the disappointment. You’re supposed to be a man of God—someone who is supposed to have compassion and feels compelled to help those in need, yet there you are sitting in your chair like the pompous ass you are. Have you not even read the words in those books on the back of those pews in there? ‘Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ’—Galatians 6:2. Clearly, you’re following the law of man and not the law here in this church. You sicken me.”

  The old man’s eyes flash from anger to surprise. “You know the Bible?”

  I roll my eyes at him. Because of my parents, I probably know more than he does. “I know a bit, and from what I know, you’re nothing but a fraud. Come on, Alpha. Let’s get out of here. He’s not going to help us.”

  Alpha rises with reluctance, but his shoulders are hunched. He seems so dejected, and my little sliver of a heart breaks for him. This asshole in front of us singlehandedly broke down the man I love by making him feel like the scum of the Earth.

  “I hope she was worth it, son. I hate that she was able to use her wicked ways to sway you from the path of good.”