Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Tatum
I pace my room on Monday evening, bored as hell. Declan never texted me back.
I probably scared him off. Which is for the best. We had nothing in common outside the brief flash of chemistry. Our lives are so completely different. Clearly.
I mean, I assume so. He tipped me more money than I would usually make my entire shift on a slow night.
It’s nice to have extra money that I wasn’t counting on. It’ll go toward more suppressants.
Speaking of.
Tatum: I need more.
Marco: I’m out, you need to find a new supplier.
Tatum: What the fuck? No! I don’t know any other drug dealers, Marco!
Marco: Head to any bar or club. There’s one on every corner. I got heat stimulants, if you want those instead?
Tatum: Why would I want that! They are the opposite of what I’m trying to accomplish! How did you even graduate?!
Marco: No Alpha left behind, remember?
I can practically hear the shady fuck chuckling.
Tatum: I just got some from you a few days ago, how are you out?
Marco: Sorry.
I groan and toss my phone down on my bed. Fuck. What am I supposed to do now!? I fall backward onto my bed and stare at my ceiling fan as it spins. I can’t help but nervously shove my fingers into my hair and tug the strands as panic consumes me.
I can’t afford this. There must be someone at Haze who knows someone that sells meds.
After I’d grabbed the flyer at the diner, one of my coworkers had yanked me into the back room, and grilled me.
Oscar is a decent guy, but he’s a nosey as fuck Beta. He’s in everyone's business at all times. Normally, it’s entertaining. He’d tried to rip the flyer away before demanding I tell him why I wanted it.
“Why do you care!” I hissed, feeling defensive.
“Because that place is run by criminals! They… Well, I don’t know what they do, exactly. But I know that they’re into shady stuff!” He’d propped a hand on his hip as he stared me down with his judgy eyes.
“Like what?” I needed to know. Did they harm Omegas? Sell drugs? Sell weapons? Smuggle…things that criminals smuggle?
“I… They sell fake identities, I know that for sure! And it’s rumored that they’re involved in the skin trade.”
“Haze has a reputation for treating its employees super well, Oscar. I’ve never heard anyone say anything like this before. I knew a girl senior year that started working there just before graduation. They wouldn’t let her do more than laundry and stock shelves until she turned twenty.”
“Oh. That's actually… Let me see that?” Oscar tried to grab the flyer, but I yanked it out of reach. “Oh, I’ll give it back, jeez!” He’d gotten this twinkle in his eyes.
“You’re such a hypocrite.”
“Wrong. I didn’t have all the information before. Now I do,” Oscar shrugged.
I either need to get a job there, and maybe see if anyone sells what I need, or… I don’t even know. Go to a bar and hope that someone offers to sell me drugs?
“Fuuuuuck,” I groan to myself. I can’t just head to the doctor and ask for a script. They’d run tests, find drugs in my system already. Not only that, but the chances of them giving suppressants to an unmated Omega of prime mating age? Basically zero.
So what do I do? My phone pings and I wince. Reluctantly, I roll onto my side to check and see who the heck messaged me.
I groan loudly when I see where the notification is from.
Fucking Omega Connections.
The dating app. I don’t know what possessed me to sign up. Maybe I should look into an exorcism?
Worse? I swiped yes first.
Adam: Hey, you have pretty eyes! I was surprised to see you match with me.
I wrinkle my nose at the in-app message and swipe it away. Then I mute the app.
I would wonder what I was thinking, but I already know. After I left the diner, I wanted someone to flirt with. Declan made me feel things, and I wanted an outlet but couldn’t text him after the last message I’d sent him.
I am now firmly regretting that decision.
I don’t have the mental energy to attempt flirting right now.
If I go to Haze tonight to apply for the position, then maybe I’ll also meet someone who can help me with my medication problem.
My phone pings, and this time I let out an annoyed grumble. I snatch my phone up, finding a text from Declan, kicking up my heart rate.
Declan: *Sent a photo*
Declan: What are you doing on a dating app? You’ve already found the man of your dreams.
The picture is a screenshot of my profile on Omega Connections.
Tatum: Don’t worry about what I’m doing. What are you doing on the app?
The audacity of Alphas. What am I even supposed to say?
Declan: I was curious.
I scoff.
Tatum: Stay curious.
I shake my head, mute my phone this time, jump in the shower, and spend half an hour shaving my entire body. My dark blonde hair takes an hour to dry and curl, the ends falling just below my shoulder blades. Focusing on accentuating my ice blue eyes with a smokey crease and sharp cat eyeliner, I finish off my look with bright red lips.
Choosing to be brave, I pull on the red lingerie Declan gave me. The silky number clings to my breasts with lacy cups and molds to my hips like a second skin. When I slide the dress I bought just for this on over them, the material hugs my curves, shows off my cleavage, and lands in loose ruffles. The baby blue color looks good with my complexion. I wear the heels from Declan, vowing to sell them tomorrow.
Before rushing out the door, I peek in on Mom, who I had helped into her bed a little after dinner. Meg is supposed to be here in less than an hour. The small TV in her room allows a little light, letting me see that she must have drifted off not too long ago. She’ll be okay until Megan gets in. I blow her a kiss for luck and scramble out the door, already mumbling about how hard these heels are to walk in.
I’m calling a cab, just this once, since I have extra tip money this week. Thankfully, the app on my phone makes quick work of ordering one. Maybe a few minutes pass before the yellow car stops in front of me. When I climb in the back seat, the long look I get from the driver makes me even more nervous. Do I look bad?
Fuck, It doesn’t matter. I’m already in the car.
When the cab pulls up to the club, my heart nearly beats out of my chest as I climb from the seat. The front of the building is a sleek gray brick with a red velvet roped off queue leading to the door. Written in bold cursive neon, Haze Instincts flashes brightly in the dark of the night.
I shiver as I approach and the handsome Beta manning the door waves me over. He nods his head and unhooks the rope to let me ahead of the line. I smile nervously and scurry inside before he can change his mind.
Inside the door, a coat check waits to the left of the red rug that leads down a low-lit hallway. The bass of the house music echoes through my bones as I navigate the crowded walkway. When I step into the main area, my nerves dance in my stomach.
Decadence is the theme that comes to mind, between the gleaming wooden and brass fixtures and the deep red carpet. Black and gray velvet curtains line the walls with alcoves just visible through the transparent panels, where silhouettes of bodies move in the dim light. I edge around a group of men in front of the main stage of the open space, where a male and female couple dance under the red tinted lights. They move sensually against each other as the tempo of the music increases, all but fucking each other on stage.
Choosing to make my way to the gleaming wood top bar that lines the wall, I am thankful for the nice Omega bartender, who directs me upstairs to the VIP section to speak with management about applying. As I make my way, I spot other well-lit smaller stages with one or two poles atop gleaming black marble. I catch the twirling figure of a black-haired beauty as she drops to the bottom of the pole in a split. I hope they have a beginners course… The flyer did say no experience needed.
In a daze, I make it upstairs, where the VIP area is even more elegantly appointed. The bouncer stationed at the entrance pointed out a discreet hallway at the end of the room. Sexily clad men and women lounge among the tables. I spot one Omega woman in a black teddy feeding the Alpha at her feet. The neutralizing system in the air here must be insane, considering I only get the barest hints of their pheromones as I make my way to the back hall, where the office door is located. I take the final steps to the shiny black door, imagining I’m someone else. I’m not Tatum. I’m a sexy, confident Omega.
I almost knock on the door, but then remember that the bouncer warned me not to knock. If the door is locked, I can’t go in. If it’s open, then I can.
I twist the knob and push the door open. My eyes are glued to the floor as I suck in a deep breath, gathering every ounce of confidence I do not have, and step forward.
“Tatum?” a familiar voice asks, clearly shocked, and I jerk my head up. Oh, fuck me.