Shades of Scars (Black Tide Valley Omegas)

1

Scarlett

“ D o you ever just think that today’s going to be the day that fate decides to stop being a fickle bitch and actually throw one of us a lifeline?”

My room mate has fucking jokes, apparently.

I snort, rolling my eyes without looking over at the pretty brunette perched on my rickety ass kitchen table, an unlit blunt stuck between her cherry red stained lips.

“Are you already high?” I would be exasperated with her, but that would mean I’d actually have to give a shit.

Spoiler alert: I don’t.

“You never take me seriously, Scar. Honestly, I think your name should be Debbie, because you’re always such a goddamned downer.

” She gets a little whiny when she’s already high, too.

When I flick my gaze over to her at last, finally taking my attention off of the email I’d been reading through on my phone, her dark blue eyes are practically sparkling and not at all bloodshot.

Interesting.

“Don’t you have a shift at the diner?” Redirecting Kate usually gets her to back off enough to give me some breathing room.

It isn’t like it’s hard to tell that I’m the poor omega’s only friend in this entire shit hole city.

I’ve barely known the girl for a year, and she’s already stuck to me like a bad smell.

Nothing I seem to do is enough to shake her loose.

If anything, being mean to her only seems to endear me to her more. And there’s no damn way I’m going to be nice. It just isn’t in my blood. Too much bad shit has happened to me to get the ice surrounding my heart to thaw enough for a genuine friendship with a fellow omega.

There’s a reason I keep people at a distance.

Kate Bennett clearly doesn’t give two fucks about that, though.

She takes out her lighter then, lighting up the blunt between her lips before I can say another word.

It isn’t that I have a stick up my ass about the pot.

If it was any other day, I would’ve passed it around with her.

In the entire eleven months I’ve known her, I’ve never been able to tell her what to do.

“I switched shifts with April. She needed tonight off since she can’t make it in tomorrow.” Kate shrugs with an infuriating amount of give no fucks, taking the blunt out so she can puff smoke circle into the air in my general direction.

“I have shit to do tonight.” I flip her the bird before returning my focus to my phone.

She groans like she’s being murdered. “Come on, Scar. You never come out with me. It’s Saturday night, for Christ sake. Live a little.”

I purse my lips. “I told you. I’m busy.” If she doesn’t leave it at that, I’m going to have to get creative in redirecting her. Murder is off the table, since I’ve listened to enough True Crime shit to know I’d never get away with it.

“Come on,” she grumbles and hops off the table, waggling the blunt towards me without actually getting too close.

She knows better than to get in my space without my express permission.

At least ten feet away at all times. Those are the damn rules.

“That new club just opened last month. I bet I can get us in VIP without even flashing a nipple. April went opening weekend, and she said it’s fucking amazing. ”

I scoff. “Seriously, Kate, no thanks. I’m pretty sure you know me well enough by now not to even suggest something like that.

” I’m definitely not going to tell her that I have a job interview at the very club she’s so desperate to get into.

If she finds out about that, she’ll beg me to get her in VIP permanently, and there’s no way that’s going to happen.

Not that I think the owner of the club would mind, if I did happen to get the job.

I just don’t want Kate bugging me every damn Friday and Saturday night.

I have boundaries, dammit. I need the space and the cash.

“Killjoy, Scarlett. A serious fuckin’ killjoy.” She grumbles while shoving the blunt back between her lips, finally turning away to head towards her bedroom.

Glancing at the time on my phone, I groan softly.

I have forty minutes before I have to be downtown for my interview.

Raven is the newest club in Black Tide Valley.

The alpha that owns it apparently breezed in out of nowhere, shortly after I arrived a few months back, and bought up the last large commercial building located off of Tide Parkway.

It was a surprise last month when the Grand Opening announcement appeared in the local paper that a new club was opening.

I don’t know very many people around the city, but the alpha in charge of the place is quite the enigma.

No one seems to know much of anything about him.

If he belongs to a pack, that’s also a secret.

The only thing I know about him is his name, courtesy of the interview invite still sitting in my inbox.

Mr. Madden. No first name. Just a fancy ass last name that sounds like he’ll be more trouble than he’s worth.

Goddammit, I need this job.

Ducking into the bathroom I’m forced to share with Kate, I close the door and flick the lock for good measure.

I quickly strip and start up the shower, slipping beneath the spray of water before it has the chance of fully heating up, enjoying the way it pelts against my skin like shards of ice for a few, blissful seconds.

Using my favorite scentless body wash, I scrub my skin until it’s red and nearly raw, refusing to look over at the scar on my right shoulder.

If I do, I’ll completely lose my shit and forgo the interview to stay holed up in my nest of cheap, stiff pillows and blankets that aren’t nearly as soft enough for my tastes.

I don’t bother washing my hair. I just got the ends dyed my usual sky blue, and I don’t want the color to fade quicker than it needs to. I turn off the water, and reach out to grab my towel hanging on the wire hook on the back of the door.

Drying off in record time, I exit the bathroom with the towel wrapped tight around my too slender frame, coming to an abrupt halt when I spot Kate in the kitchen making a smoothie.

Weird fuckin’ omega . She glances over at me as soon as the bathroom door opens, and a frown pulls down her plush lips.

I ignore her as I head into my bedroom, closing the door and engaging the lock before she can say anything.

I’m sure she’ll have some words to say when I come back out, so I make sure I take as much time as I can to pull on the strappy black dress I’d picked out for the interview.

It falls to mid-thigh, making my pale skin appear even more so. It’s the fanciest outfit I have.

Mr. Madden hadn’t indicated the dress code in the email, but I know enough about the position I’m applying for to dress the part.

I glance at the alarm clock on my night stand and then quicken myself.

In record time, I throw on some light makeup and run a flat iron through my blonde waves so they don’t look so wild.

Thank God I keep it shoulder length, otherwise it would’ve taken a hell of a lot longer to style it.

Before I slip out of my room, I stuff my feet into a pair of simple, black, four inch heels, and turn myself towards the full length mirror in the corner. I grimace at the mark on my shoulder, but there isn’t enough cover up in the world to hide the angry, mottled scar.

A reminder, that while I may be safe inside the boundaries of Black Tide Valley, I will never be free .

I rip my gaze away from my reflection and leave my room, forcing the awful memories that plague me out of my head.

For now . Kate seems to be finished making her smoothie, and I inwardly groan when I catch her arched eyebrow aimed in my direction while she watches me from her spot against the kitchen counter.

She has her long, chocolate curls pulled back from her face now, but she still has on the same pair of ripped skinny jeans and dark green cable knit sweater from earlier.

I move to my purse perched on the kitchen table and dig around inside until I find the dreaded packet of pills I really don’t want to have to take.

Kate finally speaks up. “If you keep blocking your scent every time you go out, you’re never going to find your scent matches.

” I love how she doesn’t mention the seared bond mark already branded on my shoulder.

Perhaps she knows exactly why I never bring it up. Because it’s apparent that I don’t fucking want it there. That I’d do literally anything to have it removed from my skin.

It just makes me remember exactly why I can never find my scent matches. Life is already difficult enough. The rules cannot be broken.

“I don’t want mates.” I shrug as I toss the suppressants down my throat and swallow them dry.

She says nothing while I toss my phone in my purse and grab my favorite leather jacket off the hook by the front door.

There had been one time, right after I’d moved in, when she’d asked me about the scar on my shoulder.

She doesn’t bring it up anymore.

“Be safe, Scar,” is all she murmurs to my back as I slip out the door. I try not to stumble on my way out at the sincerity there.

I cannot afford to make friends. Not now. Not ever.