Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Striker
The truth was, I didn’t even like the flogging. The only reason I got into it was because it replaced the pain with a different kind and made my overthinking take a back burner for a few minutes. My brain thought the present sting was more of an emergency than my previous one.
I’d do anything, including letting an alpha I didn’t know whip me raw, with permission, to make those thoughts go away. An ounce of reprieve.
“Our time is in five minutes,” the alpha I’d agreed to scene with announced.
As if I couldn’t see the clock mounted near the station.
Since only owners were permitted to carry their personal phones, and almost nobody wore a watch for a scene, the devices were needed.
My wolf disliked this one. I’d seen him with omegas before.
He was never cruel but gave zero aftercare.
“I’m not in a hurry.” The lie tumbled from my mouth.
“Good. I’m not either.” The alpha waggled his eyebrows in a vaguely icky way. I wasn’t attracted to this one at all. He thought he was using me in this pairing, but really, I was using him. Most people who paired up were mutually attracted.
Not me.
I picked people I had no attraction to. They were providing a service. Nothing more. Romantic involvement, well, in my situation, I’d given up on all of that.
While we watched the couple ahead of us at the station, the hairs rose on my arms as someone sidled up next to me. I didn’t have to look in his direction to know who it was. My wolf scented the alpha from the bar. The one with the contagious laughter.
“I’m Wulf,” he said, leaning in toward me.
His voice washed over me, dulling some of my rigidity. I turned to him and nodded. “I’m Striker. It’s nice to meet you.”
Wulf nodded to the other alpha. “Are you with him?”
“Oh, I…no. We were going to…” I pointed to the station. The alpha behind me was wrong. Those two were just getting started.
“I was wondering if you’d like to get a table with me and talk.”
A laugh bubbled up. “Talk? You want to talk?”
“I do. Don’t you?”
I shook my head. “I didn’t really come here to talk.”
Wulf took a look around the room and back to me. Damn, those deep brown eyes did something to me. Nailed me in place. Demanded all my attention. “I don’t really play without talking to someone first.”
“I see.”
The other alpha parted his lips to speak, but Wulf met his gaze and shook his head. The male shrugged and walked away. Just like that. “Sure. We can go sit.”
Wulf took my hand, and the touch sent a wave of warmth straight through me. No pain pill could compare. I trailed behind him, limp and almost dizzy, the feeling of our contact soothing parts of me I thought would be on the fritz for life.
He found a table near the bar lit only by the lights built into the floor.
We sat. His thighs brushed against mine and stayed there. He had let go of my hand and my wolf wanted me to beg him to do it again. The clothed thigh against mine wasn’t enough. Not even the hand-holding was enough. He hungered for more.
I wanted all of this man and I’d only just met him.
“What do we do now?” I asked, voice shaking I wasn’t confident in myself anyway, but this nervousness had to mean something.
“I don’t play with an omega without knowing his needs and wants first. I like to make sure you get the most out of our time together. So, what exactly are you here for Striker?”
To most people, that was probably not a loaded question. They came here for fun. To find a mate. Or a one-night stand. Or for exploring their kinks. To spend time with like-minded individuals.
I came here to experience a pain level that would overtake all the other pain in my life.
“Um,” I stammered. Nothing else came out.
“Please tell me you’ve had this conversation with other alphas.”
“No one has ever asked what I was here for beyond the…beyond receiving pain. Impact.”
Wulf nodded. “You deserve the whole experience. Some come for surface level reasons. But others come for something deeper. You strike me as the type who doesn’t come for cheap tricks.”
The alpha smiled. “Strike, huh? Was that on purpose?”
He cracked up. “No, it wasn’t.” He reached out and touched the non-damaged thigh. I sucked in a breath through my teeth. “I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”
“No. It’s the other thigh.”
“The other thigh?” He asked, looking down at my legs and then back up at me. “Talk to me, omega.”
The thought of telling this beautiful, strong alpha my sob story made me want to run for the hills, even though that was impossible now. Retelling that story made people look away. Stop calling. Stop texting. Avert their eyes when they saw me in public.
So, one day I stopped telling it.
I understood, for the most part. Other people didn’t know what to say. They didn’t want to feel sorry for me and so, avoidance became the norm. It was easier than admitting they didn’t know how to deal with me.
My friends list shortened by more than half after the accident and the rest trickled away in the following months.
The last thing I wanted was to tell this alpha my story and stand by as a silent observer while he walked away, didn’t look at me again, played with others who weren’t so damned broken.
But as I resolved not to tell him, his compassionate gaze sent my walls tumbling down.
Maybe I could trust this alpha with my story.
Just this once.