5. Drax
FIVE
Drax
I slam the beer down on the sparkly tabletop before wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. I’ve lost count of how many I’ve had, an empty glass graveyard sprawled in front of me.
How did it come to this? Drinking alone in Club Knotty on a theme night where everyone else is dressed like superheroes. This may be an all-time low, but it was either drown my sorrows or return home to mope.
I scowl at the students around me, posing in their silly costumes, their stupid capes slapping my arms as they pass. I grimace as I get another eyeful of another guy’s junk in an ill-fitting Spider Man costume.
Clubs aren’t usually my scene. It’s the first time I’ve ever been to Club Knotty outside of a work shift. Being deafened by a group of squealing girls raving about the recent announcement that Jagger Knight will be releasing a solo album soon already makes me question my decision to come here.
After grabbing another beer, I’m heading back to my quiet, dark corner when a stupid jerk wearing an SVU Foxes jersey bashes into me.
Behind him, I spot a few of Sabs’s volleyball teammates and familiar faces that I recognize from the beach party. Looks like some of them have decided to end the night here.
Hope pulls at my heart as I eagerly scan the crowd, longing to catch a flash of red hair among the sea of orange jerseys, but no luck.
“I can’t believe Adler went home with her!” The blonde I overheard talking about Sabs earlier is still harping on the subject. “What does she have that I don’t?”
A red-hot poker of anger pierces my chest, imagining Adler Ace’s hands all over Sabs. My Sabs.
“Forget about him, Cindy.” An alpha with his back to me who has an abnormally rectangular-shaped head sidles up to her, obviously trying to get his dick wet. “I don’t know why he’d pick some volleyball slut over you. She’s probably just easy. I bet she’d spread her legs for anyone.”
My fury reaches its boiling point. I’m not sure whether I’m angrier at learning what and who Sabs is likely doing this evening or listening to how this asshole is talking about her.
I step from the shadows as the guy turns, squaring my shoulders.
The mouthy alpha notices me right away, his back straightening and nostrils flaring.
I recognize him. Only last week my colleague, Rook, had to pull this asshole off a drunk freshman for trying to scent mark her without consent. Calling Sabs a slut is the last straw.
“What are you staring at?” he growls at me. “Do you have a problem?”
I put my beer down. “Actually, I do.”
Someone’s got to teach him a lesson.
“Oh yeah?” He steps closer, the smell of liquor on his stale breath causing me to grimace. “And what are you going to do about it?”
Alcohol and alpha pheromones don’t mix, especially not with this thumbtack, who has probably lost the majority of his brain power from being hit by hockey pucks.
A crowd circles us, and what happens next a blur under the flashing neon lights.
He raises his fist to throw the first punch—that, at least, I’m sure of—but seconds later, it’s me who has him pinned to the floor.
My hand is around his throat, my tensed arm raised in the air, ready to make him regret ever disrespecting her.
“Ge’off me.” His words come out as a wheeze, his face turning a dark shade of purple, but I’m past seeing reason.
My body simply reacts without thinking, moving with a terrifying, fluid efficiency that is governed by pure primal instincts. The relief of finally being able to unleash my anger leaves me feeling the freest I’ve been in weeks.
This is exactly what I need. And though my brain registers that it’s sick, a wave of satisfaction ebbs through me when my fist makes impact with his face.
“Stop!” I continue acting on impulse, ignoring the shrieking from the sidelines. “He’ll kill him!”
Numerous hands come from out of nowhere, hauling me off him. I look up to see I’m surrounded by a group of fuming hockey players who look to be out for blood. Taking on one alpha was easy, but five of them at once? With all my simmering rage, I probably don’t have a chance, but I’ll fucking try.
The guy whose nose I just broke scampers to his knees, whimpering.
Tension bubbles in the air as I look at my bloody hands, then one of the hockey dicks lunges at me.
He’s powerful yet uncoordinated, so I maneuver my body in a way that makes him bounce off me, giving me a chance to push him into a table.
There’s a crash as glasses fall to the floor and smash around him.
“Want more?” My lip curls into a sneer, not recognizing the roared words that come from me.
As the group circles me, the other people in the club either flee or gather to watch. When the club lights flicker on above us, I squint under the stark, white blast as a familiar figure approaches.
“Enough!” Rook’s voice reverberates through the space, the other alphas hurriedly stepping back.
His bark has no effect on me, but how dare he try to influence me?
Rook has an extremely potent alpha bark, which means that even alphas outside of his pack have a hard time not complying with his orders.
This is your chance, a menacing voice in the back of my head encourages me. I dust myself off, readying for another attack before my logic has time to catch up.
Rook isn’t alone, flanked by Damon Cross and a few other security guards. They all share the same expression—surprise mixed with concern—at witnessing my undoing. We all work together. They’re not supposed to be cleaning up a mess that I’ve made.
“Drax?” Rook surveys my blood-spattered clothes. “What happened?”
“Let me finish what I started,” I grunt. “Don’t stop me.”
Firm fingers sink into my bicep, dragging me farther back.
“It’s over, Drax.” A new deep, rumbling hiss comes from behind me.
The voice of Orin Strike. My boss. “Calm the fuck down.” His words rattle straight through me, anchoring me to the spot as they sink deep into my bones, rendering me helpless and with no choice but to comply. “Come with me.”
Something inside me snaps, my arms going limp at my sides as all of the fight leaves me. I can’t help falling into step behind the man, my head hanging in shame as I go to face the consequences.
A few girls squeak in terror at the sight of me as I follow Orin through the parting crowd. I can imagine I look a mess, caked in blood, but I don’t care. I’ve always wanted to be one of the good guys, like my dad. But tonight, I’m the villain, ruining the superhero’s party. How ironic.
We go through a door leading us into the depths of Club Knotty, an area only staff are permitted to enter, before heading upstairs into the security staff office.
Orin doesn’t talk on the way. He doesn’t have to. I can feel his disapproval radiating from him in waves, a disappointment that is somewhat terrifying. Although he isn’t as big or tall as other alphas, at just over 6′ tall, he’s broad, and his presence is commanding enough to make anyone cower.
“It’s a good thing I agreed to cover a security shift last minute, Drax.” Orin’s steely-gray eyes pierce through me as he steps aside to let me pass into the office. “Come in.”
A cold shiver slithers down my spine as I enter.
Orin is the head of security at SVU. He’s young for the position, in his late twenties, but he’s a legend.
A military hero who was discharged after an injury, who saved countless lives and won coveted medals for bravery.
He commands the respect of those ten years his senior, and he’s someone I’ve always looked up to, someone whose approval I’ve always sought.
And now disappointment strangles my lungs, knowing he’s seeing me at my worst.
The room is small—a desk with a few well-worn chairs in front of a wall full of screens with live camera feeds, showing every angle of Club Knotty from the dance floor to the bar to the omega-only area.
My heart sinks, seeing that the usually empty omega-only area is full.
Fights tend to heighten alpha instincts, posing a greater risk of them going into rut, so it’s not a surprise that omegas have fled upstairs for safety after the carnage I caused.
I’m supposed to keep people safe, yet what I’ve done has only put them in danger.
On the screens, I also see that Rook and Damon are managing the scene, doing damage control to calm the angry alphas and help clear the mess.
I didn’t realize that three tables were tipped over in the altercation, like a mini hurricane had torn through the bar.
As if they don’t have enough to be dealing with on a Friday night without me adding to their problems.
Orin takes a seat behind the desk then gestures at the chair opposite. “Sit.”
I do as he says, although this time, I feel like I actually have a choice. My knees jump around, struggling to sit still from the adrenaline rush. I grip the chair arm, bracing myself for either being fired on the spot or losing my place at college entirely.
The top drawer of his desk creaks as he opens it, making me wince.
To my surprise, he pulls out a bottle of amber liquid, placing it down along with two glasses.
“Drink?”
“I…” My hands tremble. “I don’t understand. What…?”
“A strong ginger shot is just what you need.” He pours a generous serving into the glass then pushes it over. “You’re spiking so hard that you’re going to make yourself ill. Drink. You’ll feel better.”
I eye it warily before downing it. The fiery liquid sets my tongue alight and makes my eyes water, but it also sharpens my senses and clears out the sour smell of the club enough to bring me a sense of calm before the realization of what I did slams back into me again.
“I…” The beast from the bar has vanished, filling me with a gnawing guilt that makes it difficult to even look at my boss. I keep my gaze fixed on the empty shot glass as Orin refills it, sickened by the sight of the drying blood over my knuckles. “I didn’t mean to. It’s just…”
“I know.” Orin’s voice is surprisingly gentle. “It’s a hard burden to carry such a secret alone, especially with instincts as strong as yours. How long have you been hiding that you presented as an alpha?”