15. Candice
Chapter 15
I t’s only Tuesday, and this week has already been nuts.
Thank fuck my regular clients have been with me so long and they get the ups and downs of my life. The day after I met my pack– when did I start calling them mine –I went online and made the announcement about Sunny, having to take on a couple of extra auction streams to cover vet expenses, and now my car trouble. A few of them, who know more about cars than me, wondered what could have happened to my axle. Apparently they don’t just break on their own, and you need pretty specific long term conditions, or a really hard hit. I don’t know, and I’ve been putting off talking to Gabe about it since I already have too many irons in the fire .
Settling in at my desk, I check my DMs before starting work again. I need to see if Fox-up has replied about the sketch I sent for approval. Nothing yet.
Gaia sent me condolences for Sunny, they are sweet. They once told me that they have two iguanas of their own. Now I even get pictures occasionally, and we swap silly lizard stories.
Wishbone asked if I needed any help. He or she seems to have a well-paying job and often buys into the auction streams. But I don’t want to take charity, so I say thank you but no, and tell them I will be doing another auction soon if they want to bid.
Bubbles sent me cat pictures, not in relation to Sunny, we just enjoy sharing cat memes back and forth. They also sent me a coupon for a free coffee in response to my announcement.
I skim through another seven messages, making note of whose art I need to check on, thank a few people for paying their invoices, and ask a few questions here and there about new art I need to start on.
Once those are all cleaned out I get started trying to sketch out a pose for a new piece I was commissioned to do, and what they want is very Esher girl, spines just don’t bend that way. My cell lets out a loud chirp, and I ignore it, because nothing pops up on my screen as an online message, and no one else ever texts me.
A few minutes later when it chirps again, I pick it up.
Unknown: What's your Favorite color?
Unknown: This is Jacks!
Another two messages pop up in quick succession.
Unknown: I stole your number from Xan at the shop
Unknown: I want to get your room painted so you can come see it.
I’m super confused by what’s going on at this point. Trying to figure out how to reply. I’ve been meaning to paint my nest, but that involves multiple trips to the paint store to pick out swatches, and see how they look in the room–and money. I just haven’t gotten around to it yet.
Another chirp draws my attention back to the phone.
Unknown: Did that little asshole give me the wrong number?
I can’t help the laugh that bubbles free, and I pick up my phone and touch the screen to call back the number that’s texting me. A puzzled “Hello?” answers on the first ring.
“Hey Jacks, it’s the right number.” I can hear the smile in my voice.
“Pretty Little Lion. I wanted to surprise you, but I don’t know what you like. Can you come over for dinner…it won’t be as much of a surprise, but I need to get your thoughts on some stuff before I go any further.”
Well, that is…vague and slightly ominous. “Sorry Jacks, my car is still at the shop, I’m pretty home bound for the time being, but thank you.”
“Oh...yeah…Oh, that’s no problem, Gabe can pick you up on the way home. Do you like pasta, or…? Oh, I know, I still need to make you a panini. What kind of sandwiches do you like?”
What is with this man and paninis? “Oh, I don’t know…I’ll eat just about anything. Fix me whatever you like and I’ll try it, ok? I don’t want you to go out of your way for me. And maybe you should check with the others before you just invite me over on a spur of the moment thing. I’m not sure where you guys are, but I thought my house was in the opposite direction they needed to go to get home.”
“Nah, they don’t mind. I feed them, they do whatever I ask them too. It’s all good. Plus I know Gabe says he needs to talk to you, and Leo is super mopey, so this’ll cheer him up. Come on, say yes. Please?” I can practically hear him bouncing around on the other end of the line.
“Ok. Ok, call them and make sure. I don’t want to be sitting here waiting for a ride that never shows up. Let me know what they say as soon as you can so I can get cleaned up from work and find some clothes.”
A low purring growl. “Little Omega, are you saying you aren’t wearing clothes right now?” I hear loud thumps from the other end of the phone, like he’s running up the stairs.
“Well, no pants. I don’t usually wear pants when I work, it’s comfy.” I hear clicking on the other end of the phone, like he’s started typing.
“Stand up for me…do a little spin.” Not knowing what the hell he’s talking about, I stand up and spin around quickly before I flop back down at my desk chair.
“Those are some cute panties; I love the little pink polka-dots.” What the actual fuck?
“Jacks, what the fuck…how…?” I trail off, because this is suddenly creepy as fuck.
“Sorry Little Lion, I like watching you work. I hacked your computer camera a few days ago, so I can keep an eye on you. Come on, wave, say hi!”
I drop my phone on the desk and go out to the garage. It looks so empty without my little car, but at least it is easy enough to find what I need. I come back inside with duct tape and a pair of scissors and I hear Jacks calling to me from my phone. “Oh come on, I just wanted to make sure you’re ok. I worry about you, Omega. What if someone else was to–no, wait. Fuck!”
“Can you see me now? Good.” I know I sound a little snarky, but it is a defense mechanism. Having someone watching me work for a few days is freaky. I mean, what if I wasn’t just working here. I do sometimes look for porn, though that is usually in my nest…. wait! “Jacks, you didn’t do anything to my phone camera did you?”
“No, but now that you mention it, that’s a great idea.” I can hear him smiling again, and more key clacks.
“No! Jacks, No…I won’t come to dinner if you don’t agree to that. Leave my phone camera alone, ok? I need privacy.”
There’s a long silence, followed by a sullen, “Fine, but would you consider putting an app on there, just so I can make sure you're ok? It’s just a tracker, they use it on my phone. It’s super helpful if something happens and your car breaks down somewhere…or, you know…you run off without telling anyone to buy a lot of pillows and then need them to come help you bring everything home.”
“Wait…what?”
“What, what? Nothing, dinner, paninis, yes? I am gonna hang up, so I can call Gabe. I’ll send you a link to that tracker app, and message you what time they will be off work to pick you up. Ok, Bye!”
The phone hangs up, and I have no idea what’s going on. I look over at the swatch of tape now covering my computer's camera.
What have I gotten myself into?
I get a new chirp on my phone, the pack, minus Jacks, will be here a little after 5:30 to pick me up.
That gives me a few hours to work before I need to get ready. I pick up my pen and start laying down lines.
I ’m ready at 5:20, freshly showered and shaved. I didn’t bother with my de-scenter. The guys already know what I am, and there’s no point hiding it now, or wasting my expensive and hard to come by shampoo or spray. I put on a dark purple sweater, that could be long enough to be a dress, but since I feel like I need to put up as many barriers as possible, I still include the black yoga pants under it.
My long hair is brushed out and pulled back into a braid to keep from frizzing out, and while I don't expect the neatness to last long before I start getting flyaways, I am pleased with my current appearance. Some ballet flats complete the outfit and now I just have to wait.
And wait.
5:30 comes and goes–then 6. By 6:30 I’ve taken off my shoes, grabbed a bag of Doritos out of the pantry and flopped myself on the couch in front of the TV to find some kind of horrible monster movie–where the whole pack of obnoxious alpha jocks die, leaving the beta to escape with the frightened omega and blow up the monster. Seriously, it’s pretty fucking formulaic, but that’s why it works. The only difference is what kind of monster they have this time. Personally, I enjoy zombie movies, but aliens are awesome too. You just need to work in large quantities of monsters for the most blood splatter possible. The first movie ends, and the sequel starts automatically, higher body count, more blood. I really should be working tonight, but I feel like shit now, so fuck it.
My phone chirps once, and I don’t bother picking it up. If it’s a client, it can wait until tomorrow. If it’s one of the guys…fuck it, they can wait too. Once the second movie is over I stand up, my hair is a mess now, and I really do look like a dandelion. I peel off these pants and my pretty sweater, now covered in chip crumbs, and ok, yeah, little wet spots from tears. But fuck it. I put Iggy back in her terrarium and pull the lid closed, latching it in place, and effectively tucking her in for the night.
My phone chirps again, but when I pick it up and see it is almost 11, I just plug it into the charger. I didn’t realize how excited I was to see them until they stood me up, and while I hope I get an apology and a good reason, I can’t deal with it tonight. I crawl into my nest, burrowing under the blankets and finding a little patch of scent that hasn’t faded away yet from Jacks’ marking spree last week. I wrap myself around it as much as I can and just let go. Hopefully tomorrow will be better.
M y dreams were really freaky last night, so I know I slept at least a bit, but I’m super groggy and it doesn’t feel like I rested at all. My eyes feel puffy and hot, and the rest of me just feels sticky. My phone chirps again–is that what woke me up?
Reaching over and grabbing my phone–looks like there are 23 missed messages. The first two I didn’t open last night are from Jacks, apologizing that work came up and they were all busy and couldn't get time to message me until later. Then asking if I was ok. Becoming progressively more frantic as the night went on. Finally, around two A.M., there is a text from Xan also apologizing and saying Jacks won’t let him rest until he makes sure I’m ok. Another one at 2:10 from Jacks, one at 3:18 from Gabe, threatening Jacks with bodily harm. Another four from Jacks, one from Leo at 5:30 asking if I’m alright, he can stop by on the way home and check on me if he needs to. Two more from Jacks, and finally one from Xan at 6:15 telling me they’re at my front door and won’t leave until they know I’m ok.
Fuck, it’s 6:20 now.
A tapping noise on my nest window startles a scream out of me. There’s a privacy fence around the back yard, and I keep the gates locked, so this is freaking me out. The tapping is now a loud knocking and I hear muffled voices, as well as someone rapping loudly on the door to my back patio. Wrapping myself up in a blanket–because it is too early to figure out clothes and this will cover the most area–I grab a small club that I keep by the bedside table.
I quietly make my way to the back door, the knob is rattling, and the door swings wide. My blanket held tight to me in one hand, I have my club raised to bash whoever comes in over the–well, probably shoulder, depending on how tall they are. There’s a tug on my blanket and I let out another scream–looking down, Jacks is squatting down just outside the door with a credit card in his hand, grinning at me.
“Hey, we really need to get you a deadbolt on the back here, anybody could just walk in.” He’s pulling on my blanket and grinning up at my naked thigh when Xan ambles over from where he was tapping on my window.
“Hey, Pretty Lady, are you gonna bash him over the head or can we come in? It was a long night and I really need coffee.”
Jacks unfolds himself, releasing the edge of my blanket to fall closed, and kissing Xan on the nose on the way up to his full height. “Sorry, love, I think she only has decaf.” Then he walks into my house like he owns the place.