Chapter 21 First Date
First Date
Locke
The beta sits before me, unimpressed. In all his photos on social media he has black hair. This dusty brown hair is just not working for me. It’s natural though. Oddly enough. His curly mouth holds all his emotions so if I want to know what he’s thinking I just need to look there.
He’s got a lot of thoughts.
“So, what do you do on a normal Saturday?” I ask.
He’s no longer eating. I think he was eating so much because it was the only thing keeping him from having a PTSD episode.
And good for him finding a coping mechanism.
I look out the window. I don’t see Mickey, but I know he’s there.
He followed me from the hotel to here. I had to wash myself twice to get off all the scents.
“Who’s out there?” he asks me.
“Hm?” I feign ignorance.
“Whatever. I’m going to the pharmacy to refill my meds, and then to the library to continue to apply for jobs. You can do as you wish.”
I stand up when it looks like he’s going to stand up. It takes him a while. Fuck me. Watching him sit down was painful enough. Standing is just as big of a show. I give him my back and scan the café, ensuring no one is watching him. I don’t need the beta bothered. I’d prefer to keep things simple.
He makes his way past me and I jump forward to stay ahead of him. I make sure the path is clear and then I open the door for him. He’s a grumpy thing and doesn’t even thank me. Though I don’t really need a thank you.
Even though I don’t know the way, I still stay ahead of him.
I don’t want anyone on these city streets knocking into him.
I have to look back to see if he’s changing directions.
We get into a rhythm and I’m able to predict the way easily enough.
I don’t need to look for Mickey. I know he’s out there.
It takes for fucking ever but we get to the pharmacy. We are in a completely different neighborhood by this point. It’s been over an hour. He goes up to the window and I notice his limp is more exaggerated. The fucker could have told me where this was and I would have ordered a car.
Whatever. We will do this his way. He finds a seat at that machine that takes blood pressure and we wait for them to get his shit.
I stand above him. He massages his thigh. I could do that for him. But he’d probably lose his shit if I tried.
“Did you like your hair black?” I ask instead of ‘can I kneel in front of you and rub your fucked up leg?’
He looks up at me. So brave.
“Are you stalking my social media?”
“Of course. You smiled a lot back then.”
“Yeah, I was a fool.”
I frown at him. He doesn’t believe that. His lips twitch.
“Instead of applying for jobs at the library, something you don’t need to do at all considering Kol has already offered you a perfectly good job, I could dye your hair. I’m pretty good at it. I bet this place has some dye too. Do you live around here?”
His eyebrows get all crinkly.
“You’re not dying my hair, besides…”
His teeth clack shut.
I take a step away from him. Give him some space. “Besides what?”
He adjusts his leg.
“I kind of want to go the opposite direction.”
“Bleach?”
He nods, but doesn’t meet my eyes.
“I could do that.”
He rolls his eyes, and the pharmacist calls him over for his meds. It’s a lot of stuff—over $300.
I get right up behind him and ask, “How long does all that last you?”
He sighs as though I’m being so difficult. “Some of this will last all month. Others, a week. This one here, I’ll need another doctor appointment before I can get it filled again. But I’m not going to be able to do that until I have insurance again.”
I give him a look like I’m scared and horrified. And he playfully hits me with his shoulder on his way out the door. Or at least I hope it’s playful. We get out onto the sidewalk.
“Please, god, I don’t want to go to the library. Let me do your hair. You’ll love it. And if you don’t love it, then you can use it as a really good excuse to turn us down again.”
“Tempting.”
But he’s slower than before. He walks closer and closer to the building until he stops completely and leans on it. I stand in front of him and then I mirror him by leaning too.
“Mads,” I say.
“What?”
“I’ll get us a car. We can go to your place. I’m really clean. And I’m very good. We could tone it to a really bright silver. Is that what you want? Platinum?”
He groans and closes his eyes.
I pull up the maps app and look for a beauty supply store. I put the address into the car share app, and a car is on its way. I have not heard him say no. He’ll have to speak up if he doesn’t want something. Like a good boy.
The car pulls up, and Mads is breathing heavily through his mouth. I think the guy is in pain, but I don’t say anything. He doesn’t resist me when I say our car is here. He gets right in. It’s only a few blocks away.
“Where are we?”
“I just need some shit. Come on in and wait for me while I get it.” He exits the car, and I do a real good job not trying to help him. The supply store has everything. The bleach. The toner. The bowls. The combs and brushes. I don’t look over at Mads, in case I spook him and he stops me.
He’s sweating a little. Maybe he’d stop me if he weren’t on a swift decline. Am I a bad person for taking advantage of him like this? Oh, whatever, he’s going to look great!
“Ok, now is the time where you actually give me your address so we can get the hell out of here,” I say and hand him my phone so he can type it into the app.
“It’s like a block away. We should walk.”
“Fuck Mads, I’m debating throwing you over my shoulder. We can drive a block. It’s not a big deal.”
He can’t reply. He’s too busy gritting his teeth. He turns away from me and starts walking. And we walk forever. He’s a fucking liar.
His place is so fucking far, I’m tired when we get there, and I have two functioning legs. Maybe he’s trying to kill himself so he can’t be bonded to my pack.
He calls for his mom when we enter the small apartment at the end of the walkway. She’s not home.
It has carpet older than me. The walls are thick with white paint from the years of move ins and move outs.
We can hear the neighbors on both sides watching TV or yelling at their kids.
Mads pulls up an oak dining room chair and crashes into it.
He adjusts his leg out in front of him and starts rubbing and stretching.
I want to help.
But I know better.
I give myself a tour. It’s two bedrooms. But maybe a third the size of the place my pack has. There’s a bathroom in the hall. It’s too small for my alpha body. So I set up on the kitchen table.
“Can you…” he starts and then stops.
“What do you need?”
“Just the meds I brought home, I dropped them on the counter.”
I walk over, grab the plastic shopping bag, and bring it to him. Then I go get him a glass of water.
He sighs and tries to stand up.
“Ok, I get it. You are so strong and brave and independent. Just tell me what you need.”
He growls a little. Like a beta would. It’s so cute.
“I have to take these with food. I need some bread.”
There’s a loaf of white bread on the counter. I pull out a plate and put a slice on it. “You want butter?”
He nods and I butter it. There’s a little blue butter dish right here, so I’m assuming this is something he does often.
“Two slices. Please.”
I slide the finished plate to him, and he puts the slices together like a sandwich and eats them like it’s his job. Then he proceeds to take four different pills.
I’m utterly fascinated, honestly. If he ever lets me take care of him, I could do such a great fucking job. He’d barely even notice. This takes so much mental energy. No wonder he hasn’t smiled since I’ve known him. This shit is exhausting.
I find a towel in the hall closet and bring it over.
“Ok, I’m bleaching your hair. This is your opportunity to tell me to stop. Because as soon as I mix this bleach, it’s going somewhere.”
He levels me a look. A challenge. But says nothing.
“Ok, just sit there. Don’t be difficult. If you can manage.”
I lay the towel around his shoulders and get to work.
It’s late, and Mads is showering. I’m guessing, based on the stool in the shower, it’ll be a while, so I step out of the apartment. I walk down the walkway and sit on the steps.
Mickey joins me like he’d been waiting for this opportunity.
He looks pissed off.
“I’m going to ask you once, and I want a full fucking answer. We aren’t playing 20 questions here. If I want you to jerk me around, I’ll take my pants off.”
Oh yes, he’s pissed. I look to the sky for strength. A tornado of seagulls spirals above us in the pink sky.
“Are you courting a beta? Is the Soto Pack courting a fucking beta?”
As the smart man I am, I keep my mouth shut.
“What the fuck are you thinking? You are behaving so unbelievably bad. I thought moving here was to find an omega so you could fulfill your stupid agreement with Legs! We are weeks away. Days even! And you are in there for hours with a beta! Are you trying to hurt me? Is that what this is?”
He’s yelling way too loud, so I stand up and grab him by the collar, pulling his face to mine.
“I don’t work for you. You aren’t special. My actions have nothing to do with you. Get that through your fucking skull! How I choose to spend my last few weeks of life has nothing to do with you. If I want to court a beta, I will court a beta.”
“Fuck you!”
“Fuck you, Mickey!”
“You do everything wrong, Locke, and I have to watch it! You get involved with Oscar Soto. Who’s a weak, bitch-ass alpha!
You flirt with a rabid alpha, and he fucking dark bonds you!
And now, Legs has no choice but to kill them to get you back.
And who do you think he’s going to make do that?
! And now you are screwing around with some cripple beta…
” I drop one of my hands so I can wind it back and punch him in the face.
He doesn’t react. He takes it. Like a good goon.
But he does spit right into my face.
“Are you in love with him?”
“I’m not in love with you—“
His hands grab my shirt and haul me closer. He’s going to kiss me. I push him away and hit him until he releases me.
Mickey peels his lips into a cruel smile, laughing, and then gestures behind me. Fuck. Fuck!
“What the fuck is going on?” Mads asks from behind me.
Mickey spits at my feet, fixes his clothes, and then tries to walk away.
“Are you going to tell him?”
“You’re dead either way.”
I can’t have him telling him a moment too soon. We are so close.
“Meet me tonight. Same place. Please, Mickey. Please.”
Mickey is a fucking sucker. He loves this.
“Fine.”
“Go now. I will meet you there soon. Go!”
Mickey chews on his tongue, giving me the dirtiest look like I am absolute scum, and then leaves.
I turn around to face Mads, who’s on the top of the stairs looking down at me. His white hair is still a bit wet but looks fucking awesome. He’s not leaning so hard on his cane.
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” I mumble.
“Who was that?”
I think he actually wants to know.