Chapter Five
Frey
Being trapped in the suite working with Booker, who fluctuated from growly to morose, was wearing on Frey’s nerves.
He was doing his best. Counting to ten once more, he worked to keep his tone fun and flirty. “I’ve already answered that question… twice,” he said, adding a big dose of sugary sweetness while his eyes drilled a hole through the top of Booker’s downcast head.
He didn’t look up from his laptop, which was perched on his knees. He looked very uncomfortable, and the way he constantly moved on the tiny couch suggested Frey was right.
Declining to come and sit at the table by Frey should have relieved him, only he couldn’t forget exactly how vehemently Booker had refused the day before. Frey forgot himself and sniffed indignantly .
It didn’t matter that Frey hadn’t wanted the bear to sit next to him in such close quarters when he smelled so damn sexy. Whatever the bear sprayed on himself, it should come with a warning. ‘Makes sane foxes want to sit on bears and never get off’.
“What?” Booker finally replied, glancing up, his chocolate brown eyes revealing his confusion.
Was he listening to me at all?
“The Devant account,” he smiled brightly, “I filed the invoices back at the office after paying the outstanding amount for the handbags we purchased for delivery next month to all the Starling department stores.”
Booker nodded, his gaze back on his screen. “Good, what about Rockwell?”
Frey wasn’t sure how he kept his cool as he gave Booker the same information he’d given him two hours earlier, and the day before. Was the bear having some sort of ‘hormonal imbalance thing’ that affected memory?
They continued in the same way, right until they needed to pack their bags to head out for the visit to the factory that was connected to Design Detailing & Co. They were leaving straight after the visit to fly to their next destination. Packing was a relief when it gave Frey some time to gather himself. Being flirty took a lot of hard work, especially when the person he flirted with wasn’t paying any damn attention.
They exited the suite when Taylin knocked to let them know it was time to leave. Booker offered to carry their bags to reception, but Frey refused .
“I’m perfectly capable.” He could carry his own bags, thank you very much!
He stuck his nose in the air, feeling very aggrieved and not relishing thoughts of what the next hotel suite would bring. But one thing was for sure, Frey wasn’t going to put up with having to repeat himself ten times because someone wasn’t paying attention. Heck no!
At the two cars they’d organized to transport them, Frey was happy to be riding in a separate car to Booker, away from his smell. Frey sank back against the leather seat and moaned without thought. “Booker is driving me to distraction with his forgetfulness. I never noticed he was like this.” He glanced at Monty. “You’ve worked closely with him before, was he having memory problems?” Frey’s fox fretted there could be something seriously wrong with the bear.
Monty pushed back his hair and sagged a second later. “Not that I remember. I’m having some issues of my own with Rue.”
“Please, you wanna try working with ‘I’ve got no control over my temper’ Kodi. The wolf needs to take a damn chill pill.” Lennon’s scowl was so unusual. Frey stared at him for a moment longer, then glanced at Hollis when he had no comeback about them being professional.
His taut features gave off a vibe of worry they seldom got from their boss.
“You okay?” Frey asked, shoving aside his own worries when Hollis didn’t answer immediately. He might be their boss, but they were all friends, too.
“Just… tired,” he finished lamely .
What was this about? Frey glanced at Lennon and Monty, who wore matching looks of concern as he mouthed, “You know what’s wrong with him?”
They both shook their heads.
Was this to do with his new promotion? Frey fluffed at his hair, watching Hollis, who stared out the window.
“You sure?” Frey wasn’t sure why he was pushing when he didn’t like it when others did it to him.
“Of course. It’s just with the company delaying us for so long, it’s just made things trickier… for the next visit.”
Frey could hear that Hollis was fobbing him off. It wasn’t like him, and Frey fidgeted in his seat, feeling out of sorts after the last few days. What was up with everyone? Why did Derick and Lane have to retire and upset the balance?
He had no answers and was actually relieved when the car pulled through gates and slowed to a stop in front of a huge factory building, because it meant he could think about something else.
A chill ran over Frey’s exposed skin as he exited the car, and his fox whined at the feeling coming from the place in front of them. Frey was sensitive to more than he let on. Their eyesight wasn’t the best, but they made up for it with their sense of smell and hearing. He didn’t need to step into the building to hear someone issuing threats inside.
Add that to what he could smell, and Frey was left struggling to breathe. Blood, fear and unclean bodies. They hadn’t stepped inside, and Frey didn’t want to. The place triggered the kind of fear he’d once felt being trapped with an alpha who wanted to …
He released a shuddery breath that hurt his chest and shoved away the horror of the past when Booker, Taylin, Rue and Kodi exited the other car, appearing to have none of his concerns about the place with how they acted. Couldn’t they feel something was wrong?
He wanted someone to hold his hand, to help him step inside the building, only he didn’t want to ask when they might question the reasons. Frey tucked his hands into his jacket pockets and balled them as he followed, far slower than the others.
Once inside, Frey’s innards shook as the awful scent increased and made his fox crazy. Despair… fear, they were all Frey could process.
He tagged on at the back and watched the omegas at the workbenches. There was a stark difference between how he behaved with those he worked with and those in the factory. It made it impossible to ignore there was something majorly wrong when Frey considered the threats he had heard issued.
The place was like an icebox, yet what the omegas wore was threadbare and dirty. They smelled terrible. How could one factory find a whole bunch of omegas that didn’t like to wash?
Frey couldn’t see how. In fact, he couldn’t understand the behavior, not one little bit… unless they had no choice?
Amatus, a huge alpha, bragged about the quality of the work the omegas produced, not once referring to any by name. He never once looked in their direction .
Could Booker, Taylin or one of the others’, not see that? It was like they… had no value.
Frey understood that feeling. He understood it all too well.
The alphas stationed around the room weren’t working. They were… watching. Watching for what? For an omega to steal something?
Frey didn’t think so. They were sinister. His skin crawled from the oppressive feelings.
Booker spoke, but Frey wasn’t listening. His attention was on one tiny omega whose hands shook so badly that Frey became convinced he could hear the bones in his rail thin hands clicking together. There were marks on his arms that sent chills through him.
Frey couldn’t get a read off the others with him because he was too self-absorbed with what he was terrified was happening to the omegas.
When they left, all Frey could think about was how those omegas had to stay behind with those alphas.
In the car, he shuddered and hugged himself. “Something bad is going on in there,” he blurted out, needing to say something now they weren’t within hearing distance of those inside the building.
“It smelled so bad,” Lennon muttered, his eyes gleaming.
“My animal went into hiding.” Monty’s voice cracked, and he buried his face in his hands.
Hollis slung his arm around Monty’s shoulders. “Let’s trust that Taylin and the others will deal with this.” He hugged Monty a little closer, rubbing at his arm. “Booker looked like he was going to punch Amatus, despite how positive he was about the craftmanship.”
“He wasn’t the only one,” Frey added, with enough fire that everyone turned to look at him wide eyed. “What? Those omegas were frightened. I could smell it. See it. They had marks on them.” Marks that Frey had worn after his escape. Someone was hurting them.
There was a heavy silence for the remainder of the trip to the airport to fly to their next destination.
Boarded and sat on his own, Frey stared out the window after they’d taxied down the runaway and taken off. The city below disappeared, but all Frey’s thoughts were on those he’d left behind. He’d listened to the initial conversation going on around him when there’d been mention that Booker had rung Derick Starling, their dad, to find a way to buy the company and the factory.
It was a good thing to do, and that Booker was the one to suggest it, or so it seemed, revealed exactly what a big heart he had. It was gratifying that he’d not been alone with feeling the wrongness of the place or those alphas. Yet Frey couldn’t get past the fact they’d walked away.
Hours later, booked into their next hotel for the next visit, Frey hadn’t shaken off a thought that clung to him.
“Do you think those omegas in the workshop get to go home?” The quiet question slipped out before Frey could reconsider where they were. They’d come to the restaurant in the hotel as no one had been hungry on the jet.
“What do you mean?” Booker stared at him, and Frey could see the worry in his taut features. Frey heard the chair groan under Booker’s enormous bulk and where he’d usually find some amusement at that, he had none.
The tears Frey had been holding on to decided now was the time to make an appearance, like a prima donna. He looked around the table that was tucked into the corner of the restaurant that offered them more privacy for conversation.
“They were so… lost.” His nose wrinkled, and he cursed under his breath at the tear that rolled down his cheek, plopping onto his plate. He used the back of his hand to dash at the next tear that fell without his permission. He hated crying in public, but couldn’t seem to stop when it came with a huge dose of suffocating sadness.
“That atmosphere was full of despair. Couldn’t you smell it? I thought we’d talk about it. Why aren’t we?” He hiccuped out a sob. “How do they cope with it?”
Booker wordlessly laid an open palmed hand face up on the table, offering it to him. Never more had Frey needed the touch of an—alpha—Booker. He’d need to think about that later. Right then, he didn’t overthink 'the why' and reached out. Booker’s meaty fist engulfed his hand, revealing just how much of a size difference there was between them. The fear Frey lived with about such things didn’t come, and that was something else he’d need to think about.
Frey didn’t take his shimmery gaze from Booker’s, for once he gave in to the need and touched Booker like he wanted to.
“I don’t know,” Taylin replied solemnly.
“We’re gonna fix it,” Booker said with a fierceness that made Frey have to resist squirming in his seat with the effect it had on him. For the first time in years, he felt his body respond with sexual attraction.
Ohhhh.
“Dad is working on it now. And we weren’t talking about it because”—his gaze went to the tables close by—“having this type of conversation where it can be overheard isn’t how we do business. What we need to do is have a little patience.”
Booker’s words floated right over Frey’s head when he stroked his big thumb over the back of his hand, looking solely at him. “I promise you we’ll go back and fix those shitheads.” The growl he released was full of menace.
Frey gathered himself when a giggle tickled the back of his throat at how menacing Booker sounded.
Why wasn’t he scared?
He dropped his fork to swipe at his tear-stained cheeks, holding on to the roughened palm. “It’s so hard to think they don’t have any choices.” He used the anger that fought past the sadness. “Just make sure to let me know when you are going to do some head smashing. I’ll want to watch.”
Those around the table laughed, but Booker’s gaze became thoughtful as he eyed Frey in a way that made his heart beat a little faster.
Hollis’s loud groan when he nudged Frey’s shoulder shifted his attention to Hollis. “How can you look so cute and love violence?”
Knowing what they expected from him, he tucked the sadness away for now and gave his usual flirty grin. “There’s something hot about watching an alpha kick ass.” Frey glanced at the other PAs. “Don’t you think so? ”
He returned his attention to Booker, when no one answered him. Which he kind of expected. “Big and fierce is…” he licked at his plump lips, “hot.” He added enough sass to cause Booker to cough hard enough that the table shook.
Frey’s hand landed with a thud on the table with the speed Booker let go. Frey hid his grin when Booker didn’t appear to notice because he was rubbing both hands over his rather flushed face.
Were his hands trembling?
Have I done that?
A curl of excitement at the prospect left Frey unnerved as he eyed the big bear. His worry about being trapped in another suite for a couple of days didn’t seem so bad, if maybe it gave him time to… test the theory.