Chapter 3
3
“ T omas, be a yummy bear and grab us some food. Layne and I can handle our bags, right?” Jana asks me. Tomas gives her a long look before his eyes jump to me.
He’s careful to keep his attention moving, so I don’t misread the intentions of his designation. “Anything you don’t like to eat?”
“I’m allergic to seafood and shellfish,” I say as Jana guides us away, back to the luggage carousel.
“Get me some pineapple juice, too, please, babe,” Jana calls out, blowing him a kiss and, in doing so, almost drowning me in her unique patchouli scent, which is so potent that it cuts through the blockers I’m using.
I get the sense that Jana is one of those people who always gets her own way. But she does it with an energy that makes you feel like you want to make her smile. When she swings her attention back to me, I don’t mind the waiting interrogation I find in her vibrant green eyes.
“Right, woman to woman, Omega to Omega, or just me to you…what in the cosmos happened to you, gorgeous?”
I shake my head, trying to stop from dissolving into a puddle of tears at her compassion. And the emotion pouring off her isn’t pity, like what I felt with Hill and Gypsy. Probably because I can see the harsh reality of trauma in her eyes, so it feels like we’re sharing.
“A casual dating scenario turned into a nightmare. He didn’t like that I was breaking things off with him, and then he obviously believed I needed to find out what an asshole he really is,” I confess. Before I can get another word out, I’m lost in her arms as she squeezes the crap out of me.
“I’m so sorry. What can we do to help?” She lays her head against mine and ignores the world around us. Her support feels so genuine, it’s like getting a cuddle from one of your oldest, truest friends.
“Any chance you know where I can get a job?” I ask, hopeful.
Landing a paying job is a priority, considering I’m living off Gypsy’s and Hill’s generosity, and I doubt they have a lot to give. Finding somewhere to live will be next on my list.
Jana’s head pops up, and there’s a twinkle of trouble, or maybe it’s excitement, in her eyes. “Can you waitress?”
I roll my eyes, teasing her. “Can I waitress? Puh-lease…” I sass gently before I answer her seriously. “My last job was at a café, where I opened or closed. Before that, I worked at a diner, so yes, I can waitress.”
“Good. You start tonight.”
“What? Where?” I laugh, relief and hope giving me a burst of energy.
Jana throws her hand up dramatically, “At my restaurant, of course. Wait, are you one of those vegan or vegetarian types?”
I shake my head as an answer, and she pretends to huff out a big, loud exhale in relief. “Phew. That would make it pretty difficult for you, because I run Styke. Best steak and wine bar in the city. We were visiting one of our meat suppliers, which is why we were on the red eye. I can guarantee, if I was on vacation, there is no way I’d be up at this ungodly hour.”
I laugh right along with her, because her happy vibes are catchy. “You don’t need to give me a job.”
“Yeah, I do. Look at it this way—this is my pay it forward . When the time is right, you do everything in your power to help someone and keep the gratitude circle going. Besides, don’t thank me yet. I’m a sweetly spoken asshole. Apparently.” She smiles just as the alarm for the carousel starts.
Jana lets her arms fall away, and we stand there, shoulder to shoulder, watching the bags start. “I can’t work looking like this.”
“Never said you were working the floor.” She pops her hip into mine. “Part of your pay includes a room. Nothing flashy, but the restaurant has a small studio, and you can stay in it until you get your feet under you. Let’s not waste time arguing.”
I gape like a fish, completely shocked and eternally grateful. I’m powerless to do anything but burst into ugly tears. She sweeps me into another hug. I’m sure, if my head wasn’t fried by the medication I’ve been taking almost hourly, she’d smell as good as she hugs.
“You need to cry? You cry. We can go to a rage room, if we need to. Seriously, Layne, repressing your trauma for the sake of making others feel comfortable is something we’ve done for too long as a society.”
I do one of those shuddering inhales you see in the movies. “Yeah, I hear you. Seriously, I’m not losing who I am over some asshole.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” She smiles before tucking me under her arm again. “And, honestly, the job…it might not even be your thing, but it’s there until you don’t want it. Okay?”
It’s easy to agree, because she makes me feel safer than I did at the police station. I don’t experience even an ounce of hesitation when leaving with her and her Alpha, either.
I try to trail behind them. I also try to carry the food bags, since their hands are full with their luggage. But I end up tucked between them as we power walk through the airport, along with all the other early morning commuters.
Sunlight starts to streak over the horizon as we leave the parking garage, and these two strangers feel safer than people I’ve only just met should.
“We can do the grand tour another time,” Tomas says as he merges into traffic. The massive SUV we’re in barely makes a sound.
“Breakfast wrap coming over. Except it’s not the usual bacon and eggs one, it’s different and divine. Sublime even,” Jana says, handing me a football-sized package.
“Oh my god. Where am I supposed to put that?” I laugh.
“Right? They’re so good,” Tomas says as he uses his knee to steer while he unwraps his.
Once I see what the wrap looks like, my mouth waters, and I dig in with a hunger I hadn’t properly acknowledged. After the first bite—full of fresh herbs, crunchy vegetables, and diced roast chicken, drenched in an incredible, spicy aioli—I understand why Tomas is a fan.
“Holy crap,” I mumble, my teeth already back on the wrap, ready to take my next bite.
We don’t talk; we eat. The radio keeps us company, and Tomas and Jana grunt, pointing out landmarks in the city, all based around food—coffee shops, produce markets, cold-press juice shops—until we take a turn, and then Jana twists in her seat to watch me as I come face-to-face with the most breathtaking sight.
The road we turn on is cobblestoned, and it runs along the water’s edge as far as the eye can see, both the shimmering wide blue river and the street that is. On the water’s side, there’s a wide strip of grass, with benches sitting along the edge of a walking path, and piers in all different shapes and sizes jut out over the water. The area is full of people doing everything imaginable—running, having an early morning picnic, fishing, skateboarding, and even street performing. I open my window and can literally feel the hum of life pulsing from the space. It’s amazing, but so is the opposite side of the road we drive slowly on.
Restored warehouses, demonstrating a mix of architecture and modern building methods and materials, line the street. Each building is unique but complementary to the others around it. The result is a pretty picture that would feature in any urban design or architecture magazine.
“The whole riverfront is designated historically preserved. There are different precincts, but this”—Jana waves her hand—“is commonly known as The Dock. It’s an entire precinct that the city council, with the help of local investors, redeveloped. The idea was to repurpose what was already here, instead of bulldozing and building again.”
“It’s incredible,” I say as I wipe my mouth, saving the rest of the wrap for later.
“There were a lot of building regulations and requirements that needed to be adhered to, as part of the heritage redevelopment during construction. I think our building is a wonderful example of everything coming together cohesively while it also compliments the rest of the precinct.”
You can clearly see the warehouse structure, in the shape of the building and the sheer size, but the remodeling Jana tells me about means they’ve cut out parts of the building and refilled the space with buildings and apartment blocks made with materials that look like they’ve come from the pages of history—lots of gray and stone-colored flagstone, with a slate-colored roof matching the concrete finishes. I can’t help but admire the details everywhere—small things, like cornets under the roofs and window trims, examples of craftsmanship from generations past.
Jana keeps talking as we travel down into a garage. “The remodeling took years, but our pack jumped in and signed a contract as soon as it was announced. We have a great spot for the restaurant, and the views from our penthouse are to die for. And all that happened, despite this being on the edge of Cosa Nostra territory. But The Dock is neutral ground. You need to remember that, Layne.”
“Neutral ground? What?” I ask, praying I misheard. I’m a long way from home, but at the same time, it’s not far enough.
“Don’t worry. Neutral ground is fiercely adhered to, and the consequences are brutal. The Gambrillo Family is the collective, encompassing both the Gambrillo and De Luca family, to a lesser extent the Valhesse. They have all been around for a while, though there are lots of rumors circulating that a leadership challenge is on the wind, which is also attracting the other players. There’s literally a cast of one hundred waiting for the opportunity to be crowned Boss, like circling sharks. It might all be nothing but whispers and innuendo to keep us away from their business, but all you need to remember is The Dock is a safe zone. Any area of the city outside of that belongs to them.”
The history of underground crime syndicates in this country is well documented. As are the campaigns to stop them. People are elected to office because of their passion and dedication to rid the world of criminals, but I know firsthand that even people who appear good can be the vilest—and most dangerous. Power and greed do strange things to people, irrespective of whether you’re a criminal or not.
Tomas parks the SUV in an empty space in the huge underground parking garage. We’re surrounded by more money than I’ve seen for a while, but neither of them acts entitled, so I choose not to be intimidated.
He twists around once he’s switched the engine off. “Most of the buildings have parking under them. Council is keen to keep The Dock pedestrian friendly. Each building has public car parking, but the secure areas are for residents only. Security is important to us, and we haven’t had any issues.”
“Awesome,” I mumble, still distracted by Jana’s warning that this is all neutral ground.
“Tomas, make sure Layne has access won’t you,” Jana says climbing out of the SUV.
I bite my tongue, considering I’m not one hundred percent sure I’m staying. The way Jana keeps pointing out the building’s features, I think she’s already made her mind up that I’m not going anywhere. I walk next to them, helping to carry their bags, and Tomas shows me how to use the security fob for the elevator further confirming my suspicions they’ve all but adopted me.
When the elevator doors open, Jana sails past me. “Darlings, we’re home, and I have a wonderful surprise,” she sings out before spinning to face me. “Welcome to our home, Layne.”
The inside of their penthouse is as impressive as the exterior of the building, but it’s clearly the views of the river and park that Jana paid lots of money for. I turn away from the windows when the rest of the pack joins us.
The other members of their pack are as warm as Jana and Tomas. It’s not overwhelming the way they swarm around me, either. Maybe it’s because they’re older or because I’m tired of being alone, but either way, I sink into their hospitality.
One of her Alphas is coated in a seriousness that’s as obvious as Jana’s sense of free love. He and another woman in their pack guide me away from the noise of Jana updating her pack on how we met and into the dining room, where there is already what looks like medical supplies laid out, ready for my arrival.
The Alpha, whose name I can’t remember, and Hannah are both doctors, so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.
Hannah fills in the gaps. “Jana texted and asked if we could help you out. We’re both medically trained.”
I take the seat already positioned in front of the table.
The man covers himself in a mist, the telltale chemical burn of a scent blocker floating to me, and Hannah does the same. Then he pulls over a rolling stool and sits on it, which makes him look a little absurd, considering his size and the size of the tiny stool. “Anything you're worried about?”
Again, I’m struck by the strangest sense of already knowing these people are good and reliable. “Nothing is broken. I had an X-ray to confirm.”
“May I?” he asks as he rolls closer, and as soon as I nod, he’s moving slowly. And he keeps his eyes away from mine, but that’s an Alpha thing.
He wraps his hand around my face and uses the pad of his thumb to press over the worst bruises. I know he’s satisfying himself and confirming what I said. He pushes over my eyes socket, and I hiss, making him drop his hands and roll away, but that’s when Hannah takes over.
“Open,” she says gently but firmly, using one a tongue depressor to check inside my mouth. “The last thing you need is an infection. But I’m just seeing if we have internal swelling or loose teeth as well.”
The two of them work methodically, running their hands over the back of my head before checking my neck and asking for me to lift my top so they can see my ribs. Because, apparently, I hitched my breath too many times for their liking.
Once done, they both give me some space.
“Layne, did they give you a morning-after pill or anything for STIs?”
“He didn’t touch me like that,” I say, meeting their concern head-on. Thankfully, they believe me immediately and leave it at that.
“And would you like us to prescribe more suppressors and a script for scent blockers?” he asks quietly. “I would like you to consider agreeing to a short course, no more than a couple of days. If we take away the push and pull of your designation, I think you will be able to heal a little quicker.”
My eyes jump over to Hannah, and the small smile on her face confirms what he’s saying. “I bet Jana has all but adopted you.”
I smile in confirmation while also accepting the bottle of pills that the man passes over, along with the bottle of water.
“Don’t let her push you around,” Hannah says firmly as she holds up a roll of tape, indicating she wants me to stand. “I think this will help. The additional support of the tape on your ribs will help you heal faster.”
Hannah starts taping me up, and the man interrupts my thoughts.
“What’s wrong?” he asks. Infusing his question with his designation, he makes it impossible for me not to answer.
I take a deep breath before confessing. “I don’t know how to thank you, and I wish I had money to offer, but I don’t.”
“We’re not asking. This is why we both became doctors. To help those in need, and you, my dear, are in need,” Hannah says, before getting back to taping me up. “Besides, you working with Jana means we’ll be the ones owing you!”
Once they’ve given me a rundown on what tablets to take and when, what they can help me with or help me find, they guide me back to the others, where a pile of clothes, blankets, and supplies are stacked on the kitchen island.
A tidal wave of appreciation hits me, and it starts to feel overwhelming until Jana steps up between me and the others. “Right, kid, that’s your free pass. We’ve got a life to live, and you’ve got yourself to reclaim. Plus, taxes wait for no one. I’ll take you down the elevator and show you to your room.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, to stop my gratitude from making me overly teary, but her pack isn’t done.
“The room isn’t flashy, so don’t go thinking you owe us at all. We won’t bother or check in on you, unless you ask, and you don’t owe us a single update, either. If this”—Tomas waves his arm around, indicating his pack and what they’ve offered—“doesn’t work out, leave the keys on the kitchen table and a note that you’re okay. That doesn’t mean we’re kicking you out of our lives. We’re simply telling you we’re here for you.”