Chapter Three – Kayla
Yeah, I was right. I didn’t like what my brother had to say the moment we got home, but there’s nothing I can do about it now. It’s bright and early the next morning, and I am halfway to my destination… I hope.
Riding the bus to the nearest bus stop and then walking the rest of the way put a damper on things. It is also a surefire way to exhaust me for the rest of the day, but by the time I get home tonight—see: very, very late—I’ll sleep like a baby, so at least there’s that.
I wear the same outfit I wore to the interview. I have some decent enough clothes for the rest of the week, but the moment my first paycheck hits, I’ll need to go out and buy more clothes, assuming my brother doesn’t take it all and blow it on stupid stuff, like tattoos or alcohol.
You never know with Jeremy.
What is my brother’s plan? Getting a decently-paying job should’ve been enough, but of course it isn’t for him. The Bentley family is beyond wealthy, so my brother assumes the house I’ll be working at will have plenty of things to, um, take with me every now and then.
Yeah, he wants me to steal. Jewelry, other high-end items I can easily slip into a pocket here and there. He also wants me to be on the lookout for a safe and the possible combination.
Right? Like everyone just keeps their safe’s combination written down somewhere, but I couldn’t tell my brother how stupid his plan was, because I didn’t want to risk any bruises on my first day.
I told him I’ll be on the lookout, but I wouldn’t take anything just yet.
How bad would it look if I start and immediately things go missing?
Obviously, the fingers would all point to me.
So, logically, I’d have to wait for some time to pass first, and only take things when I was certain I wouldn’t get caught.
I’m not a thief, though. I don’t know how to be sneaky. It’s new to me.
I swallow hard and glance down, checking the time on my new phone, which my brother and I set up last night. The address is on a note attached to the back of the phone so I don’t forget it. With a glance at the address on the mailbox of the house to my right, I see I still have a long way to go.
Shit. This sucks. It sucks in the early morning sun, and it’s going to suck in the evening. When it rains, you guessed it: it’s going to suck even more.
I stop walking for a few moments and wipe the sweat off my forehead.
My head is starting to hurt; I need some water or something.
Need to bring a water bottle tomorrow. Hopefully I’ll make it to the house before I get too dizzy.
A long walk with the early morning sun beating down on my head is a surefire way to make me pass out.
Course, I probably wouldn’t have that problem if I ate full meals and didn’t starve myself day in and day out, but then it’d be obvious to everyone I’m an omega—and omegas don’t get far in this world when they come from a family like mine.
There are drugs and other substances omegas can get to dampen their omega natures.
To delay heats, inhibit their scents, and other things.
All those things, however, cost money, even in the underground market.
Starving myself is the easiest and cheapest way.
Probably not the healthiest, but at this point, it is what it is.
I already know I won’t ever have the picture-perfect omega life.
I resume my pace, needing to push through and get this walk done with. Hopefully after a while, I’d build up some stamina or something. This is absolutely brutal. I can’t imagine how awful it’ll be in summertime, if I still manage to have the job.
A minute or two goes by. The street is not a busy one, so when a car drives by, I hear it long before it passes me. The yards don’t have sidewalks; most have fences built around their property, all the way up to the road, which means I have to be very careful any time a car passes.
This particular vehicle is driving the same direction I’m walking, so I step closer to the curb to let them pass by, and when they do, I see it’s a truck with tools and other things sticking out of the bed. Probably a gardener or landscaper around here.
Houses like these? More like mansions. Estates. Places with rooms and yards I could never dream of. Pool houses and all the fancy stuff you normally see on TV when it comes to the rich.
The truck slows as it passes me, and once it is fully around me, it slows to a complete halt.
I let out a long breath as I gather my courage and keep walking, catching up to the stopped vehicle. The passenger side window is rolled down, but I don’t stop and look at the driver as I walk by—not at first. I only stop when the driver calls out to me.
“Hey,” he says, bending over so he could get a better look at me. “You all right? You look like you’re about to pass out.”
“Yeah, I’m fine—” Whatever else I might’ve said dies in the back of my throat when I meet the bright blue eyes of the man behind the wheel.
Such a brilliant, vibrant blue, warm like the waters of the Caribbean.
He has a scruffy square jaw and a mop of brown hair on his head.
He’s a good-looking guy, and he looks quite muscular, like a groundskeeper should be.
“Where are you headed?” he asks. “I can drop you off.”
Not accepting rides from strangers is something you learn as a child, especially when you’re a girl. Even if you’re not an omega, you never know when someone might want to take advantage of you, hurt you, rape you and leave you for dead.
But, at the same time, I do kind of feel like passing out, and I don’t think passing out on the side of the street and being late on my first day would make a good impression. No, I’d probably get fired straight away, and then my brother would be pissed.
“It’s just a little farther, I think,” I say, tugging at my shirt, as if I’m worried about wrinkles. Like I care what this stranger thinks of me.
He gives me a smile, and I can’t say I’ve ever been on the receiving end of a smile like that. Wide, warm, easy, complete with a set of pearly white teeth that are all perfectly straight. A dazzling smile that could knock me off my feet if I’m not careful. “Get in,” he says. “I’ll drive you.”
I hesitate. “Are you sure?”
He unbuckles his seatbelt so he can lean over the front seat of the truck and reach the passenger door, which he pushes open for me as he says, “Yes, get in. Please. I’ll turn on the AC. You seriously don’t look too good.”
Even though it might be a terrible mistake, I get into the truck. As I climb inside, he uses his controls on the door to roll up the passenger window, and then he turns on the air conditioning, blasting it for me.
“There,” he says as he buckles up, “was that so hard?” He still grins at me, and I hate how that smile makes me feel all tingly inside.
I don’t really smell him too much, which means he has to be a beta—but he’s big for a beta. Like, set him side-by-side with alphas and besides the scent, you’d never be able to pick him out of a lineup.
“I’m Hayden,” he says.
“Kayla.”
“Kayla,” he repeats. “Where are you headed off to?”
I pull out my new phone and flash him the written address on the back. “Here.”
Those beautiful baby blues of his study the address for only a second or two before his brows furrow. “Why the hell are you going there? Do you even know whose house that is?”
Oh, great. So Mr. Bentley’s son is well-known in the neighborhood. Not a good sign, if you ask me. If anything, it’s a bad, bad sign that makes me wonder if, perhaps, I made a mistake by taking this job in the first place.
“I’m starting a new job,” I say, trying to sound as normal as possible and not, you know, like I was minutes away from passing out.
“My car wouldn’t start this morning, so…
” Better to act like I have a car and it decided not to work today than admit to this stranger I don’t have one at all.
For some stupid reason, I don’t want this guy to think less of me.
We get moving, but he keeps tossing me worried glances. “What kind of job are you starting at that house? Chef? Housekeeper?”
“I was hired to be Mr. Bentley’s son’s personal assistant.”
“Wow. Well, good luck there. You’re gonna need it, I think. Bradford Bentley is… uh, from what I hear, he’s not the kind of guy you’d want as a boss. Or a neighbor. Or even an acquaintance.”
“Oh. He’s that bad?”
Hayden gives me a gentle shake of his head. “Maybe he’s not. Rumors have a way of snowballing, so maybe half of what I heard isn’t true. Still, I’d be careful in that house if I were you.”
“I will.” I give him a smile back even though I’m unsure whether or not he means any of what he says. I’m all too aware rich people and the ones who work for them you can’t really trust at face value.
I’m one of those people now, someone who works for a rich jerk, but someone like me and someone like Hayden obviously come from different worlds.
The air conditioning helps cool me down, pull me back from the ledge. The cool, soft air lowers my heart rate, so by the time we pull in front of my destination, I feel like a brand-new person. Almost.
“Thank you,” I say, unbuckling as I’m about to get out.
But Hayden doesn’t stop the truck. No, he starts to pull into the driveway.
Crap. The last thing I want is for my new boss to see me dropped off. It might just be more embarrassing than walking.
“You can drop me off here,” I say, but he still doesn’t stop the truck. No, he keeps going, all the way up to the front of the impressive mansion, where he parks and turns the vehicle off. “What—”
“Oh, I must’ve forgotten to mention the fact that this is my first day as Bradford’s new groundskeeper.” Hayden flashes another grin my way. “Guess you and I are going to be seeing a lot of each other.”
My cheeks flush. I feel super embarrassed now, and I want to find somewhere to hide so I don’t have to be witness to that easy smile of his.