37. Nora
37
Nora
Levi's father is a good man. A good Omega.
What would my life have been like if my training had come from him? Who could I be now?
I stare at myself in the mirror of the small bathroom. I let Chase convince me to take a shower, and I had to fight for him to leave me alone.
I don't recognize the woman in the mirror. My hair is stringy, my face gaunt. I try to throw on that Perfect Omega smile I have spent my life practicing, but it ends up looking more like a grimace.
The Perfect Omega.
What a fucking joke.
My whole life, I have been told to stand here, look there, be this, do this, don't do that, don't even THINK about that!
Don't look an Alpha in the eye.
Don't wear your clothing too tight, too short, too low cut.
Don't eat too much.
Don't speak too loudly.
Don't talk back.
Don't cut your hair.
Don't think.
Don't think.
Don't think.
I wrap a towel around my fist and punch the mirror hard, watching the chunks of reflective glass shatter and fall around me. The noise of the shower drowns out the crash, giving me the privacy that I have been sorely lacking my whole life.
Don't question.
Don't doubt.
Don't stand up for yourself.
Don't.
Don't.
Don't.
I grab a large chunk of the shattered mirror in my fist. The stinging pain as the glass cuts my flesh is a secondary benefit to my goal. Grabbing the end of my waist-length blonde hair, never having been cut more than a trim in my life, I begin hacking at it with the jagged piece of mirror.
The hair falls around me in uneven chunks, settling halfway up my arms. I don't have a mirror anymore to check and see if it's anything other than a hack job, but I don't care.
It's gone.
The Perfect Omega has long, beautiful hair, and now Nora Summers does not.
What else can I do to remove her from me?
If I could, I would take this piece of glass and dig into my flesh, carving out every piece of me that Dr. Greene touched, every part of me he created.
But I fear there would be nothing left but a patchwork rag doll approximating a person.
Maybe I should give it a shot.
It would be so easy.
One tiny cut could become another, and soon, the stain of him would wash down the drain with my blood.
But then he would win.
"Little bird!"
I was so distracted by the reflective glass in my hand I missed the sound of the door opening. I turn and see Joey, his face frozen in horror, his eyes tracking the blood that's dripping down my arm. I look between him and the red fluid and shrug.
"I needed a haircut."
He's in front of me, ripping the glass from my hand before I finish the sentence. He's turning my palms over, looking at the long but shallow cut in the center of it. "Was this on purpose?" he asks, his shoulders shaking. Is he mad at me? "I told you to come to me if you needed pain, birdie. I can't protect you if you…" A sob catches in his throat, and he pulls me to his chest. "Please don't leave me."
"I wasn't trying to hurt myself." Not really. I don't think. "The cut on my hand was a side effect of the desire to cut my hair."
He holds me at arm's length, eyes red-rimmed, and nods. "I like it. Can I clean it up a bit for you?"
"You cut hair?"
"I have a lot of sisters, little bird. You pick up a few things."
He escorts me into the main area of the house, still in my towel, and sits me in a chair at the dining room table. The Alphas are all lounging around, and it looks like they may try to speak to me, but Joey cuts them off. "You guys make yourself scarce. Nora and I have a salon appointment."
Looks of confusion flash on their faces, but they do as he says, looking at me longingly as they leave the room.
Joey comes back with a pair of scissors and stands behind me, picking up and dropping strands as he decides where to start. I try to fill the silence. "Where are we?"
"We're in a safe house, so Dr. Greene can't find you until we can figure out how to proceed," he says, still looking at the ends of my hair.
"You have a safe house?"
He cuts off the bottom of a chunk of my hair. "Not me specifically, but I know the owners."
I get the distinct feeling he's being purposefully cagey. The soft snick of the scissors fills the silence between us. After a moment, I ask the question burning the tip of my tongue. "What are you hiding from me?"
Joey stills behind me, and I imagine he's staring a hole into the back of my head.
"Please don't lie to me," I say quietly. "I can't handle any more lies."
"It's owned by the Hawks," he says quietly. "The motorcycle club."
I spin around to look him in the eye. "You're in a motorcycle club?"
"Not anymore. My dad was a member. After I got out of the military, I was all kinds of fucked up, birdie, and it was easy to fall in with the family." Joey is larger than life, but right now, he seems cowed. "I didn't want you to know. I figured if you knew, you'd figure out the shitty stuff I've done in my life, and you wouldn't want me around anymore." He drops to his knee beside me so he can look me in the eye. "There's nothing tying you to me. You're an Omega. We're not scent matched. I can't even be an official member of a pack."
I turn around and look at him, putting my hand over his mouth. "Joey, I don't care what you've done. You're still Just Joey." I slide my hand from his mouth to his cheek. "You're still the grumpy bartender who spoke to me like a person, not an Omega. The first man to ever do that."
"I'm glad it was Roberto's you walked into that night."
"I almost didn't," I tell him honestly. "But I was so upset, and it was my own little rebellion. And look what it got me." He leans forward and kisses me deeper than he ever has before. I feel warmth stirring within me, spreading from below my belly button and down my limbs.
Joey pulls away sooner than I'd like and stands. "I'm going to finish your hair now, little bird, before I get too distracted."
"What if I want you to get distracted?" I whisper, fiddling with the top of my towel. I'm not sure what's come over me, but I feel like I'm going to combust if his hands aren't on me soon. But he throws his hand on top of mine, stopping me from unwrapping my towel.
"You're playing with fire, birdie. Let me finish this and then get you in the shower to wash off the hair. Then we can talk."
When Joey finishes, my hair brushes my shoulders and actually looks quite cute. I'm shocked at how well he was able to cut and style it. "Joey, it looks great!" I say, looking at myself in his phone's camera.
"You're welcome, birdie. Now, in the shower you go," he says, pushing me back towards the bathroom.
I dig in my heels. "Come with me," I whisper without turning around.
His hands on my back suddenly feel heavy and hot. "Little bird…"
Turning around, I pull my towel tighter and make eye contact with my big Beta. "Come with me," I say again.
He doesn't hesitate this time, lifting me up and throwing me over his shoulder. We crash into the bathroom, and he turns on the water, stripping me of my towel and shoving me into the stream. I squeal at the water that has not warmed up fast enough on my heated skin. In the back of my mind, there is a vague thought that maybe this is another heat spike, but I bury it, just wanting to enjoy the moment with my Beta.
Joey strips his clothes quickly, and I take him in. He's tall, easily the tallest of the group, and his broad chest and arms are covered with tattoos and dark hair. His large stomach has a light dusting of hair on it as well, and his legs may as well be tree trunks.
He looks like he could break me. I finally understand why he calls me his little bird. Compared to him, I seem brittle and breakable, like the hollow bones of a bird.
But despite that, he's never treated me as such.
He pushes his way into the shower and immediately hauls me up against the wall, our mouths connecting, tongues chasing each other. His hands trace down the curve of my waist, which is much slighter than it used to be. Joey pulls his lips away from mine and takes a step back, staring at me.
"I never thought that one day I would win the lottery, little bird. But that's what this feels like."
His broad hands go around my waist, and he shifts me upwards, settling them under my ass as I wrap my legs around his waist.
I feel so incredibly safe in his arms. When I'm with Joey, it's like nothing can get to me. His very presence is a shield from the negativity of this world, his smile a beacon in the dark. "Let me make you feel good," I whisper in his ear while weaving my fingers into his beard. "Order me to my knees, Just Joey."
It's like the war Joey is fighting within is writhing beneath his skin because he starts to shuffle, switching his weight between his feet. "I don't need that, little bird. Let me take care of you."
"Please don't try to tell me how to feel or what I want, Just Joey. Please just let me do this for you." I don't like that I have to beg this way, but I want the blissful float of the headspace Joey's commands put me in. "I just need to know that I'm protected," I say quieter still. He drops me to my feet and cups my chin in his hand. Whatever he's searching for in my eyes, he finds, and he nods.
"On your knees, Omega."
The moment the words leave his mouth, I'm dropping like lead, the sting on my knees from impact with the tile barely registering. I look up and see Joey looking down at me, his eyes burning with lust for me. "Well, aren't you just so pretty sitting there waiting for my command?" he coos, stroking my head. The water from the shower shuts off as he turns the tap off, and a chill immediately sets in, tightening my nipples.
He doesn't seem to notice the change in temperature. He just leans against the shower wall, arms crossed, and stares at me. I don't know what he's waiting for or what I should say at this moment, but I sit in silent submission. Eventually, he puts me out of my misery. "Well, come on then, Omega. Crawl to me."
It's not a long distance, but it's enough to make me slick between my thighs. When I reach him, I rest my hands on his thighs instead of my own. His arousal is obvious, jutting out and dripping for me. "Can I touch you, sir?" I ask, unable to take my eyes off the shimmering drop of cum on the tip of his dick.
"You are touching me, Omega," he replies, a teasing lilt to his voice.
I chew my lip, remembering the lesson I was taught the last time I was in this situation. I'm still not comfortable with swearing, but I know if I want this, I better get comfortable real quick.
"Sir, can I taste your cock?"
Joey sputters, coughing. "Fuck, little bird," he says, scrubbing his face with his hands. "You almost gave me a heart attack." He hooks my chin with his hand. "Yes, you can, little bird."
I wrap my fingers around his length, and he lets out a satisfying groan that has me squeezing my legs together. With Levi, I didn't have much control over the situation, but here, on my knees in front of Joey, I realize that I am the one guiding this encounter. I hold the power here. It's a heady feeling to know that even on my knees, this man is at my whim. I wrap my mouth tentatively around his tip, swirling my tongue over the moisture gathered there. My eyes drift closed, the taste of him calling to some base instinct within me to give him every bit of me.
Heat spreads through my body, and I whine, taking Joey deeper into my throat. His fingers feed into my hair, pulling my face tighter against him. "Double tap my thigh if you need me to let up," he says before thrusting into my face. He holds my head steady as he repeatedly slams into my throat. I slide one hand between my thighs and rub on my clit, seeking a release to cool this fire burning inside me. I look up at Joey, and his head is thrown back against the shower wall, eyes closed and mouth gaping open in rapture.
He's beautiful, my giant Beta.
The sight of him sets me off, my fingers moving quicker against my flesh, my release coiling inside me, ready to snap. I hollow my cheeks, pull Joey down into my throat, and swallow as he groans, his thrusts growing shorter until he comes with an animalistic sound that has me falling over the edge with him. The warm heat he releases into my mouth is a delicious reminder that I alone can fell the giant that is Just Joey.