Chapter 2 #2
“Okay,” Amy said like she didn’t believe a word that had just passed my lips. “But if you’re in trouble and you don’t open up to me or trust me, I’ll be really pissed off.” The way she said that made me gulp. A pissed off Amy was a scary thing.
We went our separate ways, and I started my rounds of reshelving unwanted merchandise. I tried not to identify too much with the discarded things I put back on shelves. The thing was, as much as some people, like my family, didn’t want me, there were others who did.
Rick Deluca was the head of a super shady, definitely underground trafficking organization.
The way he described it to me, he dealt in human merchandise.
I’d found him almost by accident on a really bad night.
I’d been at a bar a few weeks after Papa died, attempting to drown my sorrows, even though I hated beer.
He’d cozied up to me, and in the course of the conversation, he’d mentioned that there were billionaire alphas with secret condos and island getaways who would pay good money for a pretty omega like me.
I could collect the money for selling myself, put it in a bank account somewhere, and I wouldn’t have to worry about a thing for the rest of my life.
All I’d have to do was be some alpha’s slave.
Yeah, it was stupid-dangerous, but I was a kinky sub at heart.
I played with strangers through the Dark Fantasies Club and got off on it, so how bad could it be to do that full-time?
At least I wouldn’t have to worry about making the rent or stinky work clothes that I couldn’t wash because Mr. Tindall was lurking in the laundry room.
Maybe I’d get lucky and some mob boss or crooked politician would look like the alpha I’d nearly run into coming out of the DFC office earlier.
There were worse things in life than ending up as some reprehensible alpha’s sex slave…right?
“Maybe not,” I sighed as I put a few auto parts that hadn’t sold back on shelves in one corner of the store.
“Enzo, Enzo, Enzo,” I tensed and straightened at the sound of Mr. York striding up behind me with his slipperiest voice.
“Hi, Mr. York,” I said with as much of a smile as I could manage, turning away from the row of windshield wipers. “What can I do for you today?”
It was our store’s motto, but Mr. York looked at me with the memory of that blow-job in his eyes. “You can work a double shift tomorrow is what you can do,” he said with a toothy smile.
A double shift meant more money. It also meant being out of the apartment, in case my dad dropped by looking for money, which he’d been doing more and more lately. It meant being away from gross Mr. Tindall.
“Okay, I’m fine with that,” I said, relaxing a little.
Mr. York looked disappointed that I would be so accommodating without an argument. “And I need you to work both Saturday and Sunday next weekend,” he went on.
I froze and swallowed. “Um, I, actually, I can’t do that, sir,” I said.
The omega auction was that weekend. If I was chosen to participate, I needed those days off.
Granted, there was no guarantee I’d make the cut, so I said, “Family thing. Stuff with my papa’s estate.
” If I ended up with nothing more than a weekend free, I could live with that.
I held my breath after giving the excuse, praying Mr. York didn’t know anything about how estates worked or why I really wanted the time off.
“Fine,” he huffed after a pause that nearly stopped my heart. “You can have the weekend off. “But I’ll have to give you Jordi’s Thursday shift if I’m going to put him in one of your weekend spots. Allen’s, too.”
“I’m good with that,” I said relaxing again. “Whatever you need. It’s just that I have to have that weekend off.”
Mr. York snorted. “You omegas. You’re all the same. You were born to serve. I don’t know why so many people are out there fighting for your rights when you’re clearly happier being bossed around.”
He turned and walked away, shaking his head.
Part of me wanted to yell at him for putting omegas down.
We were capable of anything and everything betas and alphas could do.
The anti-omega prejudice was so old-fashioned it was laughable.
But on the other hand, wasn’t that the one thing I wanted more than anything else?
Some alpha taking care of me and telling me what to do so I didn’t have to make my own decisions?
Wasn’t that exactly the sort of life I was flirting with throwing myself into?
I went back to restocking shelves, a hard and heavy knot settling in my gut.
I just wanted to not think for a while. Was that so much to ask?
That was the entire reason I had jumped at the DFC’s omega auction, why I’d gone into their office to fill out the form.
I mean, I could have filled out the form online, like most people did, but I didn’t own a computer, and using the library computer to fill out a form about my kinky sex preferences was just a huge no.
Honestly, I wanted to get a taste for what it would be like if I sold myself in earnest. I needed to sample what it would be like to have an alpha buy me and own me.
It wasn’t just a fun weekend sex game for me.
The omega auction would be an audition. It would be a test for the life I could have if I agreed to the terms Rick Deluca had spelled out for me.
If everything went well at the auction weekend and I decided I could tolerate that sort of life for real, I would give Rick a call on the Monday morning after the event and kiss my old, tired life goodbye.
If I was accepted for the auction. From what I heard, only a fraction of the people who applied were accepted, and that was based on compatibility with a play partner. I’d applied in the summer, a month after Papa died, and been turned down.
“Seriously, I’m worried about you,” Amy surprised me when I looked up from restocking a bunch of pots from the garden section that someone had decided at the last minute not to buy.
“Shit, Amy,” I gulped, standing. “Let me know when you’re about to say something next time.”
“How?” she asked with a smirk, crossing her arms. “By saying something to you?”
“Okay, I get the point,” I laughed, grabbing the handle of my reshop cart and pushing it on. “And I’m fine, really.”
“You’re not, honey, and I know it,” she said. “Why don’t you come over to my place for a night or two. Erica won’t mind. She likes you. We could all—”
Before she could finish, my phone rang. Surprised, and a little terrified, since my phone ringing never meant anything good these days, I pulled it out of my back pocket.
The number for the Dark Fantasies Club flashed on the screen.
“I have to get this,” I said breathlessly, then tapped to answer the call with an eager, “Hello?”
“Hi, Enzo, it’s Hamish Farrow from the Dark Fantasies Club,” Hamish said.
“Hi,” I answered, heart beating hard against my ribs.
“So, I just wanted to let you know that you’ve been chosen for next weekend’s omega auction.”
I nearly jumped and shouted right there in the middle of the garden section. “Really? Great!” I paused, then said, “Wow, that was fast.”
“It was,” Hamish laughed. “But it just so happens that we had a perfect alpha partner for you sign up this morning as well. We couldn’t have planned it better ourselves.”
“That’s great,” I said, sagging with relief. “What do you need me to do?”
“Nothing, really. I know you have computer issues, so swing by the office tomorrow or Friday and we’ll give you the dossier for your alpha. After that, all you have to do is show up at the time and address listed in the packet next Friday night.”
“Perfect. I can’t wait,” I said.
I couldn’t wait for a much-needed weekend of darkly fantastical fun, and I couldn’t wait for an answer about whether I had what it took to throw myself into the life of a sex slave for real.