Lola & the Millionaires: Part One

by Kathryn Moon

  The doors opened, and to complete my humiliation, Rakim Oren and his massive security guard were there waiting in the lobby.

  “I love this old building, but I hate this old build—Lola?” Rakim stepped forward, and Leo ushered me around him, my stocking feet sliding along the smooth floor.

  “Rake, hold up,” Cyrus said, a firm and heavy weight in his voice I’d never heard before.

  I could barely keep my head up, and it was easier to let it drop and avoid the throbbing, pulsing shine of the chandelier lights of the lobby.

  “You want your shoes, or you want me to carry you?” Leo asked. There was something so sweet and careful in his tone that made me feel twice as vulnerable. I held out a weak hand, but instead he bent, those large familiar hands maneuvering me into my heels as I balanced against his shoulder.

  “What happened? Is she okay? Are you okay?” Rakim whispered to the others. Suddenly, it clicked.

  Leo’s bite. Rakim’s. These men were a pack. Not just a pack, but the kind of fairy tale arrangement of handsome and wealthy alphas I’d imagined as a little girl. Men in black limos who showered gifts over their omegas, who took trips around the world and drank champagne and dressed to impress. The kind of men I’d trimmed out of magazines and pasted into my school notebooks so I’d have something to distract me from my algebra.

  Leo caught me against his side as I wavered, my embarrassment thick and thorough, shame rushing up my cheeks.

  God, I hoped I was fired. Or maybe I would just ensure it, by never facing these men again.

  “One more minute, Lola,” Leo coaxed, all but carrying me through the lobby and out the doors.

  The car Matthieu promised was waiting, a sleek and simple town car—a bit longer and grander than the kind David used—and I fell into the back seat, sliding over to make room for Leo, who paused in the frame of the open door.

  “You’ll let me come with you?” he asked.

  My blink was slow and drowsy, my nod heavy, and he sighed and slid in after me. There was a patient pause before I realized I needed to give the driver my address, and I slurred it out.

  “You’re okay,” Leo said, reaching slowly to me.

  I was too tired, too defeated to move, and when his hand cupped my cheek, thumb brushing through a wet track of tears, I leaned into the touch instead of pulling away. He drew me into his chest and I collapsed with something that was too ashamed to be gratitude. More like acceptance. I needed to be held, whether I wanted it or not. Leo might’ve been claimed by an alpha, but at least he wasn’t an alpha.

  “You’re okay. You’re safe,” he murmured.

  I might’ve been safe. I definitely wasn’t okay.

  I was ruined.

  I woke in the night, head still aching but no longer foggy, and stared at the figure I was pressed flush against. I was vaguely aware of coming back to my apartment, of Leo carrying me up the three flights of stairs. I couldn’t remember if I asked him to come inside or if he’d offered.

  He’d left the light in the hall on, the door to my bedroom partly open so the room wasn’t dark.

  We were both still dressed. He hadn’t even touched my tights or the vest I wore buttoned over my blouse. His skin smelled like fresh laundry, but when I ducked my head I realized his shirt had that heavy, comforting smell. It was from his alpha, the blonde I hadn’t recognized. The one I was pretty sure had bundled me up just before I’d fallen unconscious, taking the painful edge off the panic attack.

  I slid out from between Leo and the wall of my tiny bedroom and headed for the bathroom, washing my face and finding an abandoned t-shirt and sleep shorts to change into. When I returned to the bedroom, Leo was still there, eyes squinting and blinking slowly.

  “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” I whispered.

  “I’d like to stay, but it’s up to you,” he answered, pushing up on one elbow.

  I hadn’t slept next to someone since…since I’d started up with Buzz and he’d still been pretending to be sweet. There was a big difference between hooking up with a nameless Leo in a club bathroom and lying next to him all night.

  But I knew what I needed, and for once I listened to the impulse.

  I slid onto the bed and accepted Leo’s open arms as an invitation to return to where I’d been cuddled up against his chest. His sigh warmed the top of my head, and I tugged one of the abandoned blankets to cover my bare legs.

  “Will your pack mind?” I asked, testing my theory about who those men were to each other.

  “My pack is all very glad to know I didn’t leave you alone tonight,” Leo said, one hand stroking my back.

  I fiddled with one of the open buttonholes of his shirt, my body confused between the tension of lying next to someone, of being held, and the exhaustion still lingering at the edges.

  “I’m sorry for running,” I said.

  “I understand, Lola,” Leo said. “Believe me.”

  I nodded. I believed him. He knew exactly how to handle my panic attack, did his best to help me fight it, and then had perfectly managed the aftermath. Which meant he was probably familiar with the process.

  “Just rest,” he coaxed. “If you’re up for it, we’ll talk in the morning.”

  My throat tightened briefly, and Leo’s touch soothed me through the sudden bout of tension until I was curling closer. While he was here, I was going to soak up the comfort in a way I hadn’t allowed myself to do before. I was going to pretend I was just cuddling a guy. Just normal.

  Five

  Wes

  The first time I saw Lola, she was sitting in a dark doorway at the crack of dawn, in the diciest area of Old Uptown. She was in front of an old rundown building that still had it’s ‘MOTEL’ sign hanging, now dark with only the ‘No Vacancy’ neon lit beneath. There was what looked like a dive bar on the first floor, with a few beer brand signs hanging in the windows. Lola was there, shivering, pale skin peeking out of a slit in the knee of her dark jeans, and she had a grease mark on the elbow of her thin, long-sleeved shirt. Vivid purple hair was piled into a tangle on the top of her head, and there were dark circles under eyes and bruises on her chin and throat. She was visibly trembling in the cold, and I turned the heat up to high as I drove up to the building, trying to warm the car for her.

  “She says she’ll be waiting on the sidewalk for you. But Wes, whatever happens, please don’t leave without her in the car?”

  The old motel looked deserted, with crooked blinds hanging in the windows above and black paint covering half of the large bar windows. Lola’s eyes didn’t even blink as I pulled the car to the curb, her stare vacant and dazed. I glanced at the dark windows of the building. It didn’t look like anyone was up if they were inside, and it didn’t look like anyone was around to stop me taking this girl somewhere safe, but I pulled my handgun from its case and tucked it into my holster just in case. Favors for friends—like this errand was for David—didn’t usually call for firearms, but one look at the girl crumpled in the doorway, and I was prepared to push back if anyone gave me any trouble.

  Lola twitched as I stepped onto the sidewalk, shrinking back into the shadow of the doorway, her head lowering submissively.

  “David sent me.”

  “Oh. Right.” Her words were slow but not slurred. I reached out a hand to help her up and she shrank away, pulling herself up by clinging to the grimy archway.

  She reeked of alpha, and I tucked my hands behind my back as they fisted impulsively. The scents on her were harsh and sticky and sweet, and there were too many to pin down. I backed away from her, giving her room to walk in her heavy slouch, and opened the back seat door for her. She slid in and I saw the red scratch marks over a bite shaped bruise on her throat, my stomach turning queasily as I stared at the discolored but unbroken skin.

  I was tempted, briefly, to lock her in the car and break down the doors so I could hunt down every single one of those filthy scents. But that would get messy, and I didn’t have any backup. I didn’
t know what I’d be walking into, either. Instead, I shut the door behind her as gently as I could and headed for the driver’s seat.

  Lola was directly behind me, pressed to the door, her forehead against the glass with her back to the motel.

  “There’s water, if you need it,” I said, tipping my rearview mirror just a bit so I could see her on the bench seat behind me as pulled back into traffic.

  Take her to the police station, I thought. Or the hospital.

  I could tell David where to meet us. Maybe not the police station though. She deserved to make that choice and not have someone haul her there. I glanced at the mirror when she was silent. She was still shivering and I realized she was probably in some form of shock. Shit. What did I have?

  We pulled to a stop at a red light, and I glanced down to the passenger seat floor where my ‘go bag’ was waiting for unexpected trips with Rake or for work. I leaned and tugged the zipper open, fishing out a black sweatshirt and draping it over the side of the passenger seat.

  “Cold?”

  Lola looked at the fabric as I started to drive again, her stare empty. Just when I thought of pulling over, bundling her into the sweater, cracking open a bottle of water, and tipping it to her bitten lips, Lola reached a hand out and dragged my sweater to her lap and then up to her nose. I released a silent sigh as she took a deep breath and then dove under the hem of the sweatshirt until it swallowed her completely, messy purple hair reappearing through the neck.

  Her arms wrapped around her middle, fingers just peeking out of my sleeves, and someone behind me honked. I’d taken my foot off the gas.

  Focus, buddy, I reminded myself. I wasn’t any good to this girl if I got us into a car accident.

  “Where are we going?” Her voice made my fingers clench around the steering wheel, warm and quiet and a little raspy.

  I blinked hard, clearing my head and telling my hindbrain to go fuck itself, now was not the time.

  “Your cousin David asked me to take you to his apartment,” I said.

  Her head drooped against the window again and I listened to her rustling into a tight ball in the seat, and then the quiet crack of plastic as she opened a water bottle. Good. I stared hard at the brake lights of the cars ahead of me as Lola gulped down water and sat in continued silence for the rest of the ride.

  Give me their names, I thought to the young woman in my backseat. I could turn the car around after getting her to David, maybe call up a few of my guys who wouldn’t mind helping me out with a side project like this one.

  But what if she went back? They did sometimes. My own mother had, plenty of times. In that case, Lola might be better off without my interference. Not in the long run, but…I could keep an eye out for her.

  The drive ended, and somehow I didn’t feel ready. Lola was though. She’d gotten antsy in the last few minutes, as if the shock she’d been suffering was fading and she was realizing that she was alone in a car with an alpha she didn’t know.

  I frowned as I parked and Lola squirmed out of my sweatshirt.

  “Hang onto it,” I offered, like a fool.

  “No. I…I don’t have any money to tip you,” she said, dropping my sweatshirt to the seat and frowning at her own empty hands.

  She thought I was a cab service.

  “It’s covered,” I said, so she didn’t worry.

  She nodded and exited the back of my car, heading for the front doors of David’s apartment without a glance backward. I watched her from the curb until she stepped into the elevator, and then fished my sweatshirt from the backseat. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to save it, or burn it.

  I stared out the lobby doors as Leo followed Lola into the back of Matthieu’s hired car. She’d been fine earlier, and it’d been good to see her again after all this time, as if she were more to me than a random favor to a friend. I didn’t care that she didn’t remember me; the less she remembered about those assholes who hurt her, the better. She was blonde now, still beautiful. While I’d watched her with Rake during the photoshoot, I thought she’d seemed…well, like whatever had happened to her hadn’t left deep scars.

  Now I knew that wasn’t true, and I regretted deciding to let her go and not burning down that hell hole where I’d found her when I had the chance.

  “What happened?” Rake repeated. “Is she claustrophobic?”

  “Maybe,” Cyrus said slowly, his own stare fixed on the dark car pulling away.

  “She’s scared of alphas,” Matthieu answered. His jaw was a hard line, lips pursed, and I suspected he’d known that much about Lola even before the elevator had broken down. “I suppose the power outage didn’t help,” he added, and Caleb hummed with agreement.

  “Leo will make sure she gets home safely,” Caleb said.

  I would’ve offered to do it myself. I’d done it before, but Rake and the others would have questions, and I’d never told them about my quick errand for David. When he called in a favor with Matthieu and Cyrus for his cousin, I’d wondered if it was Lola.

  “I wanted to ask her to be my new Courtney,” Rake mused. “My Courtney upgrade. I think I still will.”

  “Come on. Let’s get to the car,” I said, wondering if it would do Lola any good to get tangled up with the members of my pack. If it would do me any good, when the stunning beta was rightfully terrified of alphas.

  Six

  Lola

  Gone, I thought, staring at the dent of the pillow the next morning. And then a cupboard door clicked quietly shut in the kitchen. My eyebrows bounced up. Not gone.

  Leo was in my kitchen.

  I stayed in bed, debating whether I was brave enough to face him after the humiliating reality of the night before, or if I could wait long enough and he might leave without making me face that talk he’d offered.

  Except with the sounds, came smells.

  Curiosity conquered cowardice, and I padded out of my bedroom. On my small breakfast nook table—the only table for dining that could fit in my tiny apartment—sat a coiled up black leather belt and silken tie stacked neatly together.

  Leo had his back to me as I entered the kitchen, his white shirtsleeves rolled up tan arms as he poured batter into a waffle iron. Which was weird because…

  “I don’t own a waffle maker.”

  “You…didn’t,” Leo said slowly, glancing over his shoulder with innocent, wide eyes. He was still wearing his white button-down, the buttons generously open to the middle of his chest, revealing tan skin and dark hair, neatly trimmed.

  I also definitely hadn’t had fresh strawberries or heavy cream or the coffee that was brewing in the machine or the sausages cooking in the skillet. The skillet was at least mine.

  “I may have made an order while you were sleeping,” Leo said, shrugging his shoulder. “But I had a craving.”

  A craving that couldn’t wait for takeout?

  He closed the waffle maker and turned to face me, leaning against the fridge. “So, first I should explain,” he said.

  My eyebrows bounced in surprise. I was pretty sure, of the two of us, I was the one who needed to do some explaining.

  “When you and I…met, at the club,” he started. “I meant what I said, that I don’t usually, um…rush into situations like that.”

  “Because you have a pack,” I said.

  Leo’s eyes flicked up to the ceiling, head shaking back and forth. “Yes. Well, yes and no. I am bonded to an alpha. I have a pack. We just aren’t…most of us aren’t really exclusive to the pack. I, personally, just tend not to be in much of a rush. But you…you are very compelling.” He gave me a sheepish smile with those perfect deep dimples, his five o’clock shadow now firmly entering the denser territory.

  I frowned and stepped forward into the kitchen as Leo turned back to the waffle maker, spinning it on it’s stand to grill evenly.

  “I think I knew that there are packmates that maybe aren’t bonded, but I’ve never heard of bonded mates being…”

  “Open? Yeah, I suppose it’s n
ot common, but it works for us at the moment. We’re very devoted to one another, bonds or not. But for some of us, our sexual affairs extend outside of the pack. Caleb, my alpha, would never question me if you and I had had sex that night. I love him, he loves me, but his bondmark is just a visible part of our connection. It isn’t a warning to others or a leash to keep me in line.” With that, Leo’s eyes found mine, trying to read something from my still expression.

  “Okay,” I said.

  That doesn’t mean he doesn’t own you. It doesn’t mean he wouldn’t be angry with me for sleeping with you, I thought. Maybe he wouldn’t show it right away. Buzz had seemed…not affectionate, but not cruel at first either.

  Leo sighed, even though I hadn’t said another word. “The sausages are probably done. Do you like sausage? These are chicken.”

  I rarely ate breakfast anymore, and if I did it was usually just something carb-y from wherever I stopped to get coffee, but I wasn’t turning down this feast. I divided the sausages in the skillet between two plates as Leo pulled the golden waffle from the iron and cut it in half before starting a second.

  “I…” I hesitated over my plate, a smile flickering as Leo loaded my half of the waffle with strawberry slices and a thick spoonful of whipped cream. Huh. I didn’t own a hand-mixer either, but there was one in my sink now. I shook my head to clear it and looked up at Leo. “Yesterday, it caught me off guard to see you. But I also…I have a hard time being in close quarters with alphas.”

  Leo’s gaze was steady on mine, flicking down briefly to watch me bring a bite of waffle up to my lips. His lips stretched as I let out an involuntary hum of pleasure as caramelized sugar and fresh fruit and dense cream sang together in harmony on my tongue.

  “And the power fritz didn’t help,” Leo said, and I nodded. “How’s it been working with Cyrus? He’s so used to being infectious and impressive, I guarantee he hadn’t noticed you were uncomfortable until last night.”