Chapter 33
The Auto Yard
Elowen
The Marchetti Auto Salvage shop smells like motor oil and that dusty warmth of a building that has been used hard for a very long time.
I'm perched on the edge of a workbench along the far wall, my legs dangling, both hands wrapped around a mug of coffee that Perrin made me the second we walked in the door.
I'm wearing a pair of short shorts, one of my old T-shirts from college, and my favorite pair of tennis shoes with worn, cushioned soles. They're the most comfortable things I own, and I will be buried in them.
A Camaro sits in the center bay, its hood up, the engine exposed and the transmission pulled apart on a rolling cart beside it. It's a beautiful car underneath the rust, all long lines and wide body. I can see exactly why the owner has been patient about getting it back.
"Hand me the three-eighths," Perrin says from somewhere underneath it.
Raff, who is leaning against the driver's side with his arms crossed and a shop towel over his shoulder, looks at the tool chest, looks at me, then looks back at the tool chest.
"You know where it is," he says.
"I know where everything is," Perrin says. "I'd really like someone to hand it to me."
"Elowen's closer," Raff says.
I look at the tool chest, then at the underside of the car where Perrin's legs are sticking out. "I don't know what a three-eighths is," I say honestly.
"It's the socket wrench," Perrin says. "Third drawer. Silver handle."
I find it, hop off the bench, and crouch down to pass it under the car. Perrin's hand finds it in the dark, his fingers brushing mine in the process, and I hear a quiet "thank you" from somewhere near the exhaust pipe.
I straighten up and turn, catching Raff staring directly at my ass. His eyes shoot up to my face, and he winks, completely shameless.
"She's infinitely more useful than you," Perrin calls out to Raff.
"I'm supervising," Raff says, completely unruffled.
“You’re staring at Elle and you know it,” Perrin snips, but there’s no real heat in it.
Raff smiles, watching me as I climb back onto the workbench, his gray eyes warm and a little wicked. "You look good up there."
"I'm just sitting on a workbench."
"Yeah," he says simply, like that's a complete answer. “Real good.” His gaze lingers on my exposed thighs, and I look down, trying to hide my smile.
The morning passes like that.
Easy and unhurried, the radio playing something classic from a speaker mounted near the office door. I listen to the sound of metal on metal and Perrin's occasional commentary drifting up from under the car. Raff moves between “supervising”, grabbing Perrin’s ass, and actually working.
I don’t think I’ve ever felt this normal.
Around midday, Odette walks in through the open bay.
She's wearing dark jeans and a rich plum-colored silk blouse, her silver hair immaculate, and a designer bag over one shoulder. She takes in the shop as she steps inside. Her eyes find me on the workbench and they light up.
"There she is," she says, strolling over. She stops in front of me and looks me over once, top to bottom, then nods like I've passed some kind of inspection. "You look much better, omega.”
"I feel better," I say.
"Good." She sets her bag on the bench beside me and leans against it, crossing her long legs at the ankle. "Scoot over."
I scoot.
"So." Odette picks up my mug, takes a sip of my coffee without asking, and sets it back down. "How are you settling in?"
"Better than expected," I say, which seems to be my answer to everything lately, but it’s true.
"Good." She looks toward the shop, where Raff is now actually working, his head bent over the transmission, tattooed forearms deep in the engine bay. Perrin has rolled out from under the car and is wiping his hands on a shop towel, stealing glances at me when he thinks I'm not looking.
"They're good men," Odette says quietly. "All of them."
"I'm starting to believe that," I say.
She looks at me sideways. "Starting to?"
"I mean it as a compliment," I say quickly. "I guess—" I wrap both hands around my mug. "I'm not used to people being good to me without wanting something back."
Odette is quiet for a moment, watching Raff hand Perrin a socket wrench without being asked. "Sal was like that," she says. "When I first met him. I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop." The corner of her mouth lifts. "It never did."
I look at her. "Raff's father?"
"Mm." She picks up my coffee again. "The love of my life."
"What was he like?" I ask, not just making conversation, but actually wanting to know, because anyone who helped raise a man like Raff, has to be pretty amazing.
Odette lets out a soft sigh as she looks out at the shop floor for a moment, and something moves behind her gray eyes.
"Stubborn," she says finally. "Impossibly, infuriatingly stubborn." She smiles at the word like it's a compliment, which I think it is. "He was about Adam's height. Slight through the frame, though." She glances at me. "He was an omega."
I blink. "Sal was an omega?"
"Don't look so surprised," she says, and her smile grows.
"Male omegas exist. They're very good at being overlooked.
" Her jaw firms slightly. "Which suited Sal fine, most of the time.
Nobody expected much from a male omega, which meant nobody got in his way.
" She looks back at the shop. "This place had been in his family for three generations.
His grandfather built it. His father ran it.
And when it came time, Sal ran it too, and god help anyone who suggested he shouldn't. "
"Because he was an omega?" I ask quietly.
"Because he was an omega," she confirms. "But Sal didn't take shit from anyone. Alpha, beta, didn't matter." She picks up my coffee one more time. "He was the most dominant omega I've ever known, and I mean that as the highest possible compliment."
"Did you have a pack?" I ask. "You and Sal?"
Odette shakes her head slowly. "Just the two of us," she says.
"Which was unusual even then, but we were happy with it.
" She hands my mug back to me. "Things were different when Sal and I were young.
Omegas weren't confiscated from their families the second they presented.
They had more freedom. More say in their own lives.
" Her expression darkens slightly at the edges.
"It wasn't perfect by any stretch, but it was better than what it is now. "
"And male omegas?" I ask.
"Seen as less than," she says flatly. "Always have been. A male omega was considered defective in some circles. Like the biology had gone wrong somewhere." Her jaw tightens. "Which is utter bullshit, but it had one useful side effect."
"Nobody bothered them," I say, understanding.
"Nobody bothered them," she confirms. "An alpha looking to acquire an omega wasn't interested in a male one.
So Sal moved through the world largely unbothered, which was exactly how he liked it.
" She looks at me with those sharp gray eyes.
"He used to say that being underestimated was the greatest gift the world ever gave him. "
I think about my parents.
About the pharmacy I sold, the false bottom drawer in my old apartment, and three years of hiding in plain sight.
"I understand that," I say quietly.
Odette looks at me for a long moment, and whatever she finds on my face makes her reach over and pat my hand once.
"I know you do, sweetheart," she says. "Omegas are good for alphas.
" She shifts slightly as she crosses her arms. "People forget that.
They get so caught up in the biology and the politics and what omegas are supposed to be that they forget what they actually do.
" She nods toward Raff, who said something that's making Perrin laugh despite clearly trying not to.
"His father used to smile like that, and I haven't seen it on Raff in a long time. "
I look at them.
Perrin is standing in front of Raff, shop towel in hand, talking with his hands as he tells some kind of story.
Raff has moved into his space, close enough that there's barely a breath between them, one hand resting on the Camaro behind Perrin's shoulder, his head bent slightly toward him like whatever Perrin is saying is the most interesting thing he's heard all day.
Perrin's face is animated and bright, and every few seconds he glances up at Raff with an expression that makes it abundantly clear he is absolutely delighted to have that much of the alpha's attention focused entirely on him.
I think about this morning in the sunroom. Perrin’s pink ears and his careful hands and the way he kissed me like he meant every single second of it.
I look away before I get too emotional about it.
"Yeah," Odette continues as she watches them too. "Alphas need something real to tend to and protect. It gives them somewhere to put all that." She waves her hand vaguely in the direction of the shop floor. "Energy."
"And omegas?" I ask. "What do we get out of it?"
Odette looks at me like the answer is obvious. "A family," she says simply.
A family.
I haven’t thought about one day having a family of my own. I’ve never allowed myself to even consider it.
I'm still sitting with the thought when Raff says, "Can I help you?" His voice carries across the shop, easy and professional, the tone he uses for customers.
"Yeah." A familiar voice drifts across the shop. "I'm looking for someone."
Milo?
Every hair on the back of my neck stands up at once, and my head snaps up at the sound of his voice.
Milo steps through the open bay door, squinting slightly at the shift from bright afternoon sun to the dimmer interior of the shop. He's dressed casually in jeans and a T-shirt, with a backpack slung over one shoulder and a soda can in his free hand.
His dark curls are tied at the back of his neck like always. He's thinner than I remember, his jaw sharper.