Chapter 5 Dixon St. James #2
One thing I hated with a passion were bigots.
Betas didn’t choose to be born Betas. Just like a goddamn Alpha didn’t choose to be born an Alpha.
Same with fucking Omegas. I’d learned to be better after a lot of heartache.
I’d also learned to be better thanks to Tray, who taught me not to be ashamed of things I liked that might not fit the Alpha mold.
Maybe I could have controlled myself if the redhead hadn’t slighted Betas.
Or maybe I just used that as an excuse to stop fighting the madness festering inside.
The dark-haired Omega was still on the bed.
I stomped forward, easily brushing off Tray who attempted halfheartedly to hold me back.
Mac said something, but my head was buzzing too loudly to hear him.
The microdose, liquor, and anger coursing through my veins was controlling my movements and vision now.
All I saw was the mattress. Those stupid Omegas. And I wanted to flip out.
Flip.
Flipping would work.
I leaned down and shoved my hands under the mattress.
The standing redhead rushed out of the way.
Her friend wasn’t fast enough. I heaved upward, satisfaction blooming in my chest as the Omegas squealed in fear and disbelief.
The redhead rushed to the other side of the bed and tried to help the other scramble off the bed.
I kept lifting, wanting to dump them both to the floor.
Only, everything went sideways.
My brain.
The room.
The mattress.
Somehow, I was careening headfirst into the base slats beneath the heavy fucking king size.
I slammed into foundation and violent cracks shot through the room as wood splintered and snapped.
Screams now, not squeals. I was caught in a sharp, jagged prison.
But I was all animal. Flooded with unstoppable, primal instinct.
I pulled my arms free, ignoring the pain, and I began slamming my fists down to snap the rest of me free.
When I stood up, everything was still hazy.
But I could see the other bed almost clearly.
The Omegas were out of sight. But that bed had to pay for what this fucking bed did.
Stepping over the side rail, I stomped with deliberate purpose towards the second bed. I grabbed the footboard, and I ripped it off the brackets keeping it in place. Holding it over my head, I turned like a goddamn maniac and tossed it towards the glass balcony doors.
The doors exploded outward into the night, glass shards landing with musical clinks onto the balcony and beyond. Outside air rushed in, kissing against my overheated skin, yet it did nothing to calm the inferno raging inside me.
"Shit!" Tray moved around into my line of vision, both hands up and palms pointed at me in surrender. “You got to chill, Dix. Fuck, I should have held you back. I didn’t think you were that out of control, man.”
“You guys are freaking insane!” A woman shouted.
“Let’s get out of here,” another said, her voice trembling.
“Don’t have to tell me twice,” a third chimed in.
The sound of scrambling ensued.
Someone dropped something, then said ‘shit’.
The door to the suite whined open. It didn’t slam shut.
“They are, most definitely, going to send security up here.” Mac strolled towards the destroyed doors. “This is… worse than normal, dear Dixon.”
I don’t know what it was about Mac, but something about him usually got through to my adrenaline-addled brain every time it got twisted. My surroundings began to refocus. The feral haze began to dissipate. I started to digest what I’d done.
“Fuck me,” I mumbled, slamming my large, clammy hand against my face.
“I believe that’s what started this, so maybe not,” Tray quipped.
“Tray,” Mac warned, “Obviously this is not the time for jokes.”
“Not a joke,” Tray shrugged. “If they’d have screwed him as expected, we probably wouldn’t be standing in an apocalyptic hotel suite.”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I muttered over and over. “This isn’t me. This isn’t fucking me.”
“We know, Dixon.” Mac was near me now. I kept my face covered. I couldn’t look at him or Tray right then. A hand touched my shoulder, tentatively at first, then when I didn’t blow up, it wrapped firmly around. “You have always been gentle. We know this isn’t who you are.”
“Come on, let’s get our shit together. You know we’ve got about five minutes before they kick us to the curb.” Tray bumped my left arm affectionately. “Don’t stew on it, Dix. Shit happens.”
I dropped my hand finally, eyes connecting with his.
I envied Tray sometimes. He was the youngest, further away from his Alpha nature detonating.
Because that’s what it did. You got old enough, lonely enough, and you became a time bomb.
It was part of the balance of the world.
An Alpha needed an Omega to survive. Sure, we could keep downing tonics and rut dampeners, but eventually, it wouldn’t be enough.
Hell, it already wasn’t enough. Why couldn’t I just calm down with Tray by my side?
Why couldn’t our pack of brothers, bonded in so many important ways, not survive on our goddamn own?
“Here,” Mac held something out to me. I blinked down at it. Speak of the damn devil.
“Thanks,” I mumbled, taking the calming drink from him. “Don’t think this does much. The synthetic shit’s better.”
“I know,” he said, and I could tell by the tone of his voice that Mac really did know.
“How the hell are you doing it, Mac?” I stared at him desperately, feeling lost. “I even saw you drink earlier and you’re acting totally fucking sober.”
“I wait to fall apart in private.” He gave me a sad smile before moving to collect his personal shit.
He waited. Why couldn’t I be like that? Why couldn’t I stay in control until it was convenient? Fuck.
I downed the terrible ass tonic in one gulp. Tasted like the bottom of a boot, one used for shoveling farm animal shit. Seconds later though, as the adaptogens and skullcap hit, I did feel slightly less on edge. Maybe I just needed to shoot back a hundred of these crap-cocktails every day?
Unfortunately, the effects didn't last—or they just weren’t strong enough to combat renewed anxiety.
Before I could even hit the bathroom for a quick piss, fucking hotel security walked into the suite.
My glands secreted a spicy, irritated warning scent at the sight of them.
The largest guy in front, a bulky Beta who never skipped leg day, stared me down.
The smarter guards behind him subconsciously took a step back.
A small woman, no taller than five feet, stepped around the men.
Her golden tag said she was the lead Beta manager.
That shit pissed me off too. Why the fuck did Betas have to put their secondary sex on their uniforms like that? I never saw fucking Alphas running around with a big ass A on their clothes.
“We are preparing to vacate the premises,” Mac’s reasonable voice chimed up before anyone else could speak. “We also fully understand that we will be charged for the damages. Please create an itemized bill and charge the card on file.”
It probably wasn’t a good thing that Mac could preemptively address everything hotel staff would say after massive room destruction.
“Wonderful,” the hotel manager said, almost controlling the shake in her voice. “I’ll submit the itemized bill to the email on file. It’s a,” she looked down at a mini tablet I’d not clocked when she first came into view, “D A period Magden at Flash Dance Records dot com?”
“Yes, that would be our tour manager. He’ll get it to accounting.
” Mac confirmed with a nod, then added. “Please also email the invoice to C period Cook at Flash Dance Records dot com. She’ll likely need it for our personal accountant.
The label rarely covers these,” he turned around, grimacing at the damage behind us, “unfortunate incidents.”
The manager was quickly typing something. When she finished, she looked up. “Okay, I think that’s all then. Security will escort you from the premises after you get your things. Please relocate your tour bus as well.”
Mac cleared his throat. “Unfortunately, we’ve given our driver and other staff the night off. I assure you that it would be unwise for one of us to attempt to move the bus. We are neither equipped with a commercial license or sober enough.”
The manager frowned. “When will your staff be on duty again?”
“After sunrise,” Mac pushed his hands into his pockets and gave her his most charming smile. That worked just enough to thaw her, replacing the frown with a slight smile.
“By nine sharp then,” she adjusted the terms of our banishment.
“You are a goddess among women,” Mac gave her a slight bow, and the Beta’s face flushed.
About ten minutes later we found ourselves herded through the gate of the secured parking lot.
I walked a few paces behind the other guys.
Any clarity the tonic had given me was zapped.
I felt unbalanced again, and not only because my body was swimming with booze and whatever designer drug the sorority sisters had peddled.
Every footfall towards the tour bus made me grumpier. I’d gotten us kicked out. I didn’t feel drunk enough to not care. And I hadn’t even gotten my dick sucked. Paradise, Nevada could go to hell.