Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Tatum
I groan loudly, throwing myself backward onto my bed when I get out of the shower. My feet ache. So much that even a shower was more than I could take.
Mental exhaustion makes dressing seem like an unnecessary chore, so the towel clinging to my body will have to do for now.
Today was my first day off in over a week, between the diner and the club, so I spent the earlier part of the day catching up on chores.
Mom was refusing to eat, and when I tried to force her, she puked. All over me. All over the blanket in her lap. The floor. Nothing was safe.
I stripped down to my underwear and cleaned her up and mopped up the living room floor. Once I’d finished, I had to decide if I wanted to save the blanket, or toss it out along with my clothes. No way was I going to try and salvage the outfit since it was just my raggedy chore shirt and shorts.
The blanket was old, and we could use a new one, so I tossed it in a trash bag and dragged it to the apartment dumpsters. Thankfully, Meg will be here soon to help with her.
Rolling over onto my stomach, I grab my brand-new phone, logging into my bank account, and confirm I am still broke as fuck. I let out an angry huff. The tips from the diner and the club the last few days made it possible for me to stock up the pantry and fridge. Then I paid the rent as well as caught up on three overdue bills.
My budget is tight until I can save enough to get Mom the care she needs, though. I have to play catch up, then I can start saving. One less bill to pay for is this phone, though. Which is great, actually.
In addition to the banging discount and allowance at Instinct Boutique, Declan provides all his employees with a cellphone if they want it, so I at least have this fancy new smartphone to distract me from the shit show that is my life.
I have a plan, though. I just need to make it to one month. One month at Haze Instincts, and then I can beg them for a promotion. Access to positions where I can make the kind of money in one night like Dream does.
Until then, I’ll keep grinding. Right now, however, I’m lonely and bored. A dangerous combination.
Declan hasn’t messaged me since orientation day, and I haven’t seen him since he sold me suppressants. Which means I now have enough to last me four more weeks since I took my last dose of Marco’s pack this morning.
A wildly unhinged side of me almost wishes he’d only sold me two weeks worth like Marco did, so I'd have an excuse to see him again. Which is fucking stupid, because what if he runs out… I could go back sooner and ask for another month's supply, though, since he charged so little. I should go tonight.
There’s no telling how many other Omega’s need them.
Seeing him is just a happy side bonus.
I didn’t realize how much I enjoyed his flirting before. Well, no, that's not quite right. I knew I enjoyed it. I think what I failed to realize is exactly how much I would miss it once he stopped. Or how lonely I’d been before him.
I knew I was lonely, but up until Declan, it was less obvious. Or maybe being forced to face Hayden for four days is what’s making that empty chasm in my chest ache.
I actually miss the feeling of his attention. Of knowing he was thinking of me. The buzzing tingle in my stomach when his name would pop up. The butterflies when he’d say something dirty. Something I never thought I’d enjoy hearing.
He’s my boss. He’s off limits. Officially. He made that clear. Right after he offered to bend me over his desk.
I pull up the app store on my phone, and without bothering to get dressed, I download three more dating apps. All of them cater to Omegas, but one of them has looser rules. I start with the one that has the highest ratings. I already have the highest rated app, but after that message from that random Alpha, I haven’t opened it again. Maybe that had more to do with Declan seeing my profile, though.
It takes me ten minutes to create a new profile, upload pictures, and show my ID to prove my identity and Omega status.
I’m swiping through profiles, not reading any of them. I’m looking for a specific face. Ugh!
This is stupid. I’m being annoying. I close out of the app, delete the two I didn’t use, and am about to delete the one with my new profile, when I change my mind. Fuck it.
Maybe Declan uses this one too, and he’ll come across my profile. While he’s swiping other profiles.
Gah! That thought does not settle my instincts, as stifled and erratic as they are.
I should stay home. Rest. But…
Dream said I could go in on my off days to observe the other muses. I could also do laundry. I do need to clean my uniforms, and I was already thinking of using an off day just to observe without the pressure of needing to perform my job. Plus, Hayden isn’t working tonight.
This way, I have an excuse to be at the club, that isn’t stalking my boss. Sure, I want more meds, but I could wait a week or two. What the hell is up with me?! It’s like the suppressants aren’t working as well as they used to. Or, did I just never notice before, because I was so focused on surviving, that I was ignoring my instincts?
Ugh. Whatever. If I don’t give into this feeling, I’ll only spend the rest of the night trying to convince myself one way or the other.
Fuck it. I spend an hour and a half getting ready very slowly, the club won’t open until ten thirty anyway, so there’s time. While I’m getting ready, I watch shows on my phone, which has unlimited data. Something I’ve never had before. I signed up for the free trial of one streaming service. My plan is to swap to the next free trial on another platform once this one's up. There’s like seven, so it’ll get me through a few months.
Once I’m dressed, I feel slightly more prepared. Funnily enough, I’ll be carrying in a big ol’ bag of dirty clothes while all dressed up. I don’t mind, though.
I grab the bag, sling it over my shoulder, and then change my mind. I feel dumb carrying in my stack of laundry. I’ll just take my dirty uniforms.
I think I’ll go into the club before it opens tomorrow, do my laundry, and then get ready for my shift, instead of taking everything now. I’ll have to lug the bag home at the end of my shift, but that’s not as bad as looking ready to club…with a laundry bag…
I’m wearing tight black waist high jeans with ripped holes in the thighs, black boots, because my feet still hurt, and these are comfortable even though they are older. And a satin baby blue strapless corset that makes my breasts look amazing. I add some shimmering lotion at the last minute because I love sparkles, so whatever.
Lastly, because I’m only an Omega, I put on one of the necklaces I once stole from Hayden. I hate him, but some instincts can’t be resisted. It’s easier to give in.
All it takes is one look in the mirror, at my smokey makeup, curled long blonde hair, and the fucking necklace, to have me growling.
I try yanking it off, but only end up agitating my skin. I undo the clasp, and toss the necklace back into my treasure box. Then, vowing to give it back to him, I put Declan’s bracelet on. I’ll just drop it in his office or something.
The thought has me irritated and on edge, but I don’t know what this means to him, and I can’t really ask, without being obvious.
Maybe it’s just something he bought because he liked it, or maybe it was a gift. It’s the first thing I’ve taken that makes me feel guilty. I need to return it. I’ll steal something from Hayden instead. Since he’s an ass and deserves it.
I head into the living room, relieved to find my mother in bed, seemingly asleep. I’m quiet as I leave.
Since I only brought a small bag of my uniforms, which consist of barely any material, I feel less awkward as I head down the street to work on my bike with the bag across my back. I get this weird feeling that I’m being watched and keep looking over my shoulder.
I pick up my pace a little and hustle to Haze.
“Hey, Baby,” the bouncer at the door greets me when I walk in through the front. I probably should have used the employee entrance, but I’m not clocking in, so I felt weird about doing that. I might be overthinking.
“Hey, George.” I wave, slipping inside and heading straight to the basement to toss my load into a washer.
Once that's finished, I head for the VIP bar. I like the view from up there because I can see more of the club. Plus, it’ll be less obvious that I’m basically stalking my coworkers. At some point, I need to work up the courage to go speak with Declan, but maybe a drink will make that easier.
“Hey, can I get you a drink?” someone says beside me almost as soon as I sit, and I nod before I can catch myself. For a second, I thought he was the bartender, but then realize the question came from the wrong side of the bar.
The unmistakable smell of an interested Alpha hits me, as I turn slowly, facing the man attempting to hit on me. “I can get my own drink...”
“Oh?” He frowns, and I swallow thickly. Given my history, I wasn’t expecting to be drawn to, well, anyone. I’m usually not. Declan was a unique experience for me.
He is actually…unbelievably attractive. Hell on wheels , I think as I take in the sight of him. His messy white hair is short on the sides, but long enough on top to fall into his eyes. He bleaches it, because the roots are black. The colorful tattoos I can see are all very well done and add this bad boy appeal. His eyes are a bright turquoise, framed by long black lashes. His lips are full, and tinted a natural pink that makes him look freshly kissed.
Why are tattoos sexy? Because they hint at his ability to commit to something forever? Or because maybe he enjoys pain, or art? Or is it purely aesthetic? Am I just drawn to the prettiness of the artful way he portrays himself?
Am I just horny as fuck? My heat suppressants aren’t meant to curb instincts, but three years of use comes with side effects that I’d gotten used to. Like, a lower libido. Less desire to nest. Less frequently seeking the approval of Alphas. Maybe this is breakthrough hormones?
Whatever the reason, bad boy Alphas are actually the worst. Very dangerous to an Omegas heart.
However, it can’t hurt to flirt. And look a little. That’s safe. Risk-free. It’s not like I’m begging him to knot me in the supply closet. Speaking of knots. I lean in and try to catch his scent. Nothing…at first. But then I get a hint of something. There’s definitely Alpha markers. The longer I sniff, the more chemically it smells. Like…pre-packaged brownies, rather than freshly baked. Fake sugar or something. Hmm. Guess we’re not compatible. At least, not scent wise. Could still be in other ways, though. Not that I’ll ever find out.
“Maybe one.” The dazzling smile I get in reply is enough to make me a little dizzy. “Just a beer.” He nods to the bartender, Felix, and I accept the cool bottle of beer from across the countertop.
“You work here, don’t you? I thought I saw you in uniform before,” he asks, watching me for a moment, before looking around at the rest of the area, and I nod once his eyes are back on me.
“You caught me. I’m Tatum, by the way.” I hold my hand out for him to shake. When he takes my hand in his, I shiver, just a little. They’re not soft, like I imagined. For some reason, I pictured him doing work that didn’t require manual labor that caused the calluses I feel. It’s not an unpleasant feeling. I probably enjoy it a little too much, honestly.
Is it normal to wonder what a stranger's hands might feel like on your body? I’m sure it is.
“Eas-” He coughs, shaking his head as he releases my hand. “Everett. Sorry about that,” he chuckles, looking around again. “You like working here?” When he meets my eyes with an intense stare, his question sounding more serious than the rest of the conversation, I’m not sure how to answer him.
“Um, yeah.” I shrug. “It’s been less than two weeks, though. So there's still time to discover that it sucks,” I joke, and he nods his understanding, only returning from that burst of intensity when I answer.
“Good.”
I’m sort of mesmerized by him, and the glow of his tattoos in the low lighting of the club. He’s not as tall as Alphas usually are. Maybe six-one or six-two. Declan, for example, is probably six-five, and Hayden, is no less than six-six.
The name Everett doesn’t seem to suit him, but whatever, I’ll never see him again, so I guess if he did just give me a fake name, it wouldn’t matter.
He’s got a softness to his features that make him almost beautiful.
The familiar urge to steal washes over me, and I quickly take inventory of his body. He’s got a bracelet, but it’s made of string. Much harder to remove. There’s a ring, but I never take those. The delicate pearl necklace and gold chain around his neck both catch my attention, but how the hell would I manage to get those off him?
Besides, those all just add to his attractiveness. Would be a shame to mess that up with theft.
I need something of his. Desperately. I’m getting anxious, and a little whine slips free. His eyes meet mine, pulling him away from his people watching, and I bite my lip.
Certainly can’t tell him what that was all about, can I?
In a half delirious move, I take his beer from his hands. “Mine’s empty.” I shrug.
One of his eyebrows goes up, a half smirk slowly pulling his lip up. I just sit there, staring back. Not sipping from his drink. Because then it would be my mouth on the rim…
“I have to go check my laundry,” I squeak, jumping out of the bar stool, probably making no fucking sense.
“Have a good night, sweet Omega,” he calls after me as I act like a complete crazy person.
Instead of heading to the basement to check my laundry, like the liar I am, I head to the locker room, where I can dump the rest of this beer, and then stash it in my locker.
I stole the bottle. He saw me doing it. There’s still a thrill because I escaped having to explain my whine, and made off with something of his that I know I won’t need to return.
If I do ever see him again, he’ll think I’m nuts and avoid me, no doubt.
I’m just stuffing the bottle in the back of my locker, making plans to take it home and add it to my collection, when Dream startles me.
“You’re here on your day off!” she practically squeals. “I was so sure you’d do what everyone else does and refuse to come in!” She calms down when she sees I’m panting, clutching my chest. “Oops.” She wrinkles her nose at me, and I shake my head, laughing.
“Sheesh, woman, you startled me. And I needed to wash some of my uniforms, so I thought I might as well.”
“Fair. I mean, no one ever wants to come in and do what’s essentially free work, on a day off. Even if we do get free drinks.” Dream shrugs.
“Eh. I’m here now, might as well learn what I can.”