3. Syn
3
SYN
My phone buzzing next to my head on the bedside cabinet wakes me rudely, and I groan. Slamming my hand on it, I grip it, and with my eyes still closed, I answer it roughly. “What?”
“Now, Syn. Be nice.”
Jeremy’s voice makes my eyes fly open, and I sit up, instantly alert.
“Thanks for that payment your body gave me last night. How does it feel to know you fucked that alpha all for nothing?”
“Jeremy,” I say carefully, knowing this mood all too well. The gaslighting, the narcissism, the baiting. “What do you need?”
“That’s better,” he croons. “What a good little omega. I want more money. The cost of living is rising, and these payments just aren’t enough.” His tone is innocent and casual, but it’s like a knife through my heart.
“Please,” I whisper. “I can’t, Jeremy.”
“You can and you will, or you will never, ever see her again.”
The knife twists, and I choke back the sob. “Please, Jeremy, let me see her.”
“Nah, I don’t think I will let you see our daughter. She is thriving without you.”
His words are made to hurt, and they do. It hurts more than anything, even though I know it’s not true. It can’t be true. “Please…”
“That’s it, Syn, beg me. Are you on your knees?”
I close my eyes and clutch the phone.
“Are you on your fucking knees, Syn?”
“Y-yes,” I lie.
“Show me.”
“What?” My eyes snap open.
“Switch to video and show me that you are on your knees begging me.”
I gulp and slide off the bed. Propping the phone up, I switch to video. I can’t see him. He isn’t in the picture, just a blue sky above him and the sounds of… I listen carefully. Wind, or is it the sea? Fuck, I don’t know.
“See,” I spit out. “I’m on my knees, begging you to let me see my daughter.”
“Tut-tut. I don’t like your tone, and she is actually my daughter. You are a non-entity.”
“Jeremy.” My jaw is clenched so tight that I give myself a headache.
“I want more money.”
“How much more? I don’t have anything!”
“Well, we both know that’s not true. You have more than you’re letting on, not to mention all you have to do is open those pretty legs, and you’ll get more. Isn’t that how this works, hmm, baby girl? You fuck other alphas to keep me happy?”
“You’re sick!” I snarl and immediately regret it. The video is cut off, and his voice comes through the speaker, muffled as he switches back to a voice call.
“Listen to me, you little bitch. Keep me happy, and maybe one day I will let you see her.”
“No!” I say, grabbing the phone and standing up. “You don’t get one more fucking penny until I see her.”
Silence.
I’m trembling from head to toe. The phone is shaking so badly, I have to grip the end with my other hand to stop it from dropping onto the floor.
“Like that, is it?”
“You want this money train to keep paying, show me my daughter,” I say, as steadily as I can. I’m taking too big of a risk, but I’m in it up to my neck now and I have to trust that he wants the money more than he wants to fuck me over.
He sighs, and after some muffled shuffling, the phone lights up at my ear. I yank it away and stare at the screen. I let out a pained sob as I see Amélie playing with a doll on the grass in an enclosed garden with a high wall. It looks expensive, and bile rises in my throat, but I focus on her. I touch the screen and whimper. Her blonde hair is in pigtails as she plays happily. She is so grown up now. She’s three. I’ve missed so much. So fucking much.
The video is cut off, and Jeremy comes back on the phone. “Happy now? Ten grand for that, bitch.”
“Jeremy, I can’t.”
“You get paid in cash. Go out and get it.”
“I need time.”
He huffs dramatically. “How much time?”
“A week.”
“Two grand today, the rest in five days. And this extra, you understand me, Syn? If I don’t get it, you won’t ever see her again.”
He hangs up.
My howl of agony as I drop to my knees, echoes back off the walls. Tears stream down my face as I rock back and forth, clutching the phone to me, as my body is racked with sobs. My head pounds and my heart is broken, but I can’t let this defeat me.
I will not let Jeremy win this war. I have to keep fighting for Amélie. I have to get her away from that monster who took her from me to be cruel when I messed up and takes pleasure in torturing me like this. Gritting my teeth, I use the bed to haul myself to my feet. I have to think. I need to think. How the hell am I going to get him that money? Most jobs don’t pay like Ranier does. I’ll have to work every single day for the next five days to scrape it together. He planned that. He knew that I wouldn’t see Ranier for another six days. So he knows how hard I’ll have to work to get that ten grand for him. He knows everything. Staring at myself in the mirror over the dressing table, I sigh. Why can’t my heat be now? I could get that fifty grand from Ranier and hopefully buy my way out from under Jeremy’s cruelty.
My face goes hard when a thought pops into my head. “Fuck,” I say, shoving the hair back that has stuck to my tear-stained face. There is a way to bring my heat on early. Black market inducers. Highly illegal, not to mention dangerous, but I’ve reached breaking point. Nothing is off-limits now. Nothing.
I swallow and stare at my phone, unlocking it and bringing up a number for an omega who works at Walker’s and who I know has used the inducers before. She is the one who told me about them. We aren’t friends per se, but we are close enough that I can ring her now and find out where to get them.
“Savvie,” I say when she picks up the phone.
“Syn? Fuck. Do you know what time it is?” Her voice is rough with sleep.
“I’m sorry. I know it’s early. I need to ask you something.”
“Are you in trouble?” she mumbles.
“Yeah.”
“I’m awake,” she says. “Where are you?”
“I’m at home, but it’s not that kind of trouble.”
“This had better be good, girl.”
I clench my fist and blurt it out, “I need heat inducers. Now. Today.”
“Meet me in an hour at Fresco’s.” She hangs up, and I gulp.
Am I really doing this? Will Ranier even go for it? He has been asking me for months if I would let him have me during my heat. It’s something he wants. It’s something he is willing to pay fifty grand for. If I bring this forward to tomorrow, will he bite?
I bring up our message thread but then hesitate. I’ll get the inducers first and then text him. If I jump the gun and it falls through, he will be pissed, and I might never see him again. Placing down my phone, I get into action.
I shower quickly, scrubbing away the dried tears from my face. The water beats down on my skin, almost punishingly hot, as if I could somehow cleanse away Jeremy’s voice, his threats, the sight of my daughter playing in a garden I’ve never seen and who won’t even recognise me.
Towelling off, I get dressed in dark jeans and a white shirt. I slip on some black ballet flats, yank my oversized burgundy wool cardigan from my wardrobe, and put it on. I grab my handbag and head out. The early morning air is fresh, the sky is the colour of cornflowers without a cloud in sight. Spring has sprung, and the dandelions are bobbing their yellow heads as I head to the bus stop.
Time is on my side as I stop and lift my arm for the oncoming bus. He stops, and I flash my pass, remaining standing for the short ride into town.
Forcing myself to keep my mind blank, I can’t overthink this.
Getting off at the stop right outside Fresco’s, it’s bustling with the morning office crowd. I spot Savvie immediately, sitting at an outside table, her blonde hair tied up in a messy bun, her eyes covered with too-big dark sunglasses. She’s holding a to-go cup and sets it down when I approach.
“You look like shit,” she says by way of greeting as I slide into the seat across from her.
“Thanks,” I mutter.
“Go order a cheese and avocado panini.”
I scrunch up my nose, bobbing my foot up and down in my impatience. “No, I’m not hungry. Besides, that sounds disgusting.”
She pulls her sunglasses down to glare at me over the top of them. “Go inside and order a cheese and avocado panini from the cute guy with the black curly hair.”
It takes me a few seconds, but then my eyes widen. “Oh, right. Okay…” I rise and grip the handle of my bag. I don’t even know what to expect. Is he just going to hand them over after I’ve given him the pass code? I don’t even know how much I’m supposed to pay.
I walk into the café, the bell jingling overhead as I slip through the door. The scent of fresh coffee and warm pastries fills the air, making my stomach churn with nerves. The place is packed with the morning rush. Maybe I should come back when it’s less busy?
Of course, as soon as I make up my mind to turn around and come back later, the crowds part like Moses and the Red Sea, and I sigh as the young alpha with the curly black hair gives me a bright smile. He can’t be more than twenty-five, the same age as me, and there’s nothing about him that screams ‘illegal heat inducer dealer.’ But then again, what did I expect? A shifty-eyed man in a trench coat?
“What can I get you?” His smile is professional, customer-service perfect.
“A cheese and avocado panini, please.” My voice sounds steadier than I feel.
Something flickers in his eyes—recognition, wariness, calculation—before his expression smooths over. “We don’t sell those here.”
I blink. “Uhm. My friend said to order one,” I say, lowering my voice, confused and panicked. Is this a sting? Am I about to be arrested on the spot?
He gives me a tight smile and leans forward, his hands resting casually on the counter as he murmurs. “We don’t sell those here. But listen, I’m going on my break in five minutes. If you really want that panini, meet me out back. I can tell you where to get one for two hundred, right pocket. Now look at me like you want to fuck me and walk away.”
I narrow my eyes and lick my lips, giving him a heated stare. He chuckles and steps back. “Won’t be long, sugar.”
“Sure,” I mutter and back away.
Exiting the café, I look around for Savvie. She has left, so I’m on my own.
Two hundred. Right pocket. That’s not so bad. I can take it out of the five grand Ranier gave me and still have enough to deposit to cover the two grand Jeremy wants today, with enough to keep a roof over my head for another month.
Fussing in my bag as I walk casually around the corner, I pause and pull out the cash, folding it up and slipping it into my right pocket. Finding the alley behind the café, I look around and don’t see anyone on this side street, so I quickly hurry down the grimy passage that stinks of rubbish.
I see the back door and wait opposite it, wringing my hands as I wait.
A few minutes later, the alpha comes out with a big smile. “Look at you, waiting, all ready for me,” he says appreciatively and loudly, probably keeping up appearances that this is a booty call. I mean, really? Do the other employees really believe that?
He closes the door and saunters towards me, exuding confidence. He stops in my personal space, and I back up until my back is pressed against the wall. He leans in, moving closer until his body is touching mine. He sniffs my neck, breathing in my scent, and I rear back, but I have nowhere to go. “Honeysuckle,” he murmurs, slipping one hand into my left pocket and the other going around my waist to draw me closer. He removes his hand from my pocket, and I feel the weight of something he left behind. He moves his other hand to my right pocket, shielding this activity with his body as he grips the cash and withdraws his hand. “Use them all the day before, ’kay? They work quickly.” His lips brush mine, and that smile goes sultry. “Nice doing business with you, honey.” Then he steps back, and he’s gone.
I gulp and shove my hand into my left pocket. My fist wraps around the package he left. Three small injections. “Fuck,” I mutter and pull them out of my pocket and shove them into my bag. I pull away from the wall, my cardigan getting stuck on the rough stone, but I tug it off and walk stiffly out of the alleyway and around to the front of the café on the busy street with my stomach feeling like lead.