Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Laz
“Were you talking to someone?”
Kris crosses the room quickly and sits on the edge of the bed. She doesn't reach for my phone, but her eyes search for it.
It isn't that I'm not allowed to use my phone.
I can call whoever I want, whenever I want.
She just likes to monitor my contacts because we've had clients get too attached in the past. I don't want her to know I called Brooks, though.
Brooks is mine, only mine. She doesn't get to know anything about him.
“No. Are you just now getting back?”
She nods. “I walked in the door five minutes ago. Have you been awake very long?”
I shake my head. I haven't. I've only been awake long enough to decide that it really was Brooks on the street earlier today.
I only started coming back to myself this afternoon.
Kris helped me get cleaned up and dressed and then decided I needed some food before sending me off again.
That's why we were at the club. They have an excellent restaurant on the main floor where you can fill up on five-star food before you head down to the sub-levels and forget what food even is until morning.
She reaches over to press her hand against my forehead. “How are you feeling, love?”
Truthfully, I feel like garbage, and every sober second that passes makes me feel a little closer to death. “I've felt better.”
“It's only been about fifteen hours. Are you ready for your next dose, or would you like to go a little longer?”
That's a fair question. Sometimes I like to see how long I can go before I start going really cold. Right now I'm just lukewarm on the heat scale. But I was out of it for almost three weeks the last time, and my system needs a break whether I want one or not.
I might be addicted to R, but I don't want to fuck around and let it kill me. It might happen eventually, but it wouldn't be intentional.
I'm not stupid. I know what I look like.
Years of depending on R to keep me in a cloud of pleasure has taken their toll on my body, but my mind is as solid and strong as it ever was—when I'm not rolling through tides of false heat.
I could keep this sharp clarity longer if I were willing to put myself through the physical torture of going without.
This sort of clarity is only good for a few things and only for a little while; after that, it takes a violent turn into remembering everything I want to forget.
Everything I'm running from. Everyone I've lost.
Him.
It always comes back to him.
And the way he looked at me the last time I saw him.
When I made my choice.
When I turned away.
“Laz,” Kris says softly. “Honey. Are you with me right now?”
I close my eyes and shake my head in a sad attempt at clearing away my sudden grief. “I'm here. Do I have any appointments today?”
“Would you like an appointment today?”
No. Not really. But if given the choice between the sadness that's beginning to consume me and the hunger that will cancel it out... “That's probably a good idea. I don't think I can go much longer without...”
“I'll get your medicine,” she says, a small smile curving her lips as she gets up from the bed and goes to her bag she left on the dresser.
That's what she calls it now. Medicine. She says it sounds prettier.
I guess it does. Saying that I can't go a full day without R washing away everything but hot need is a lot more words.
“How did you feel about the Alpha from earlier today?”
It doesn't really matter how I felt about him, as long as he gives both me and Kris what we need. I won't remember the details anyway. “If you think he's okay, he's okay with me.”
She comes back carrying the small case that holds my medicine. “Do you want a gradual start, or would you rather jump in the deep end?”
“How soon can he get here?” I ask. The sooner the better. Brooks's rough voice is still echoing in my mind, and my chest is getting tighter by the minute.
“Half an hour.”
“Cannonball.”
***
I wake up to the immediate knowledge that something isn't right. I feel wrong. I have the usual and expected soreness in all the normal places, but there's something else...
There. There it is.
“Kris!”
Oh god. I can't do this again.
“Kris!”
I told her not to let this happen again. I told her it was too painful. I told her it was too hard on my body and my mind.
“Kris!” My voice breaks, but I keep yelling as I struggle to get up onto my hands and knees. “Kris! Where are you? Kris!”
I force my eyes to open and find the sheets spotted and splashed with blood. It's happening. I can feel him. He's in my head. The nauseating pull is already firmly in place. “Fuck! Kris! KRIS!”
I try to move my trembling limbs. I need to get out of this room.
I have to find Kris so she can stop this before it gets worse.
Where is she? She's supposed to be within earshot.
That's the deal. She takes care of me and protects me from the clients, and I make sure she gets what she needs from their bank accounts.
She should be running in here to help me. That's the agreement.
I've consented to a bond before, just a few times.
I've allowed Alphas to leave their mark on me, but the cost has always been astronomical, and there was always, always consent.
I agreed to it before I let Kris send me under.
There were verbal and physical contracts.
I signed them. I didn't consent to shit this time.
I manage to get my arms and legs to propel me forward. I want to leave. I have to find Kris so she can get me to a clinic before it's too late. The longer a bond festers, the harder it is to remove it. And it hurts so much more.
Where is the bite?
I stop long enough to reach a hand up to examine my neck. Not there. Nothing on my wrists. Not on my shoulders. I don't feel anything on my chest. The higher I rise out of the muddled fog of R, the more everything hurts. Genuinely hurts. More than the usual ache.
Where is the mark? I need ice. And a phone. Where the fuck is my phone?
“Kris!” I call again, but it's weak and broken.
My thigh. I can feel it now. High up on my inner thigh.
I drop back onto my ass and spread my legs.
There it is. Bruised and still raw, pulsing in time with my panicked heart rate.
Rage and sorrow beat away the rest of my blurred state.
A bite on the neck or shoulder could be explained away as a mistake that happened in the moment, but a bite on the thigh takes thought.
It takes planning and cooperation from me.
Anything, especially being claimed and marked, sounds like the best thing in the world when I'm on R.
That's why Kris and I have the agreement. She protects me from my own stupidity.
The pull from the Alpha leads me out into the hallway, and I crawl toward it, scrubbing my knees on the carpet and then my elbows when weakness forces me to drop down onto them.
It feels like it takes excruciating hours for me to drag myself down the hall to the door to Kris's office, but I get there.
I raise my hand to twist the knob but stop when I hear Kris's voice.
“There will be an extra fee to have it removed.”
“You never said anything about having it removed.”
She laughs. “Did you think you'd keep him? Don't be stupid. Give me the money. Now. He'll wake up soon, and I don't want to have to explain anything.”
“And if I don't?”
“I'll call the police.”
Now the Alpha laughs, and the involuntary pleasure that rolls through me at the sound makes me gag. “You'll call the police? And tell them what, exactly? The law is on my side. I claimed an Omega, and you're keeping him from me.”
“There's no contract. There's nothing proving that he agreed to your bond.
There is, however, miles and miles of paperwork documenting my authority to make the choice for him and previous contracts from when he did agree to a mark.
He didn't agree to your bond, you took it without consent. You will be charged. Period.”
“I'll wake him up. I'm his Alpha. He will choose to go with me.”
Kris laughs again. “No, he won't. He doesn't want an Alpha or a bond. All he wants is to forget his own name, and I make sure he does. You knew the rules when we made our arrangement.”
“I'll tell him.”
“Okay. Then it's my word against yours. Who do you really think he'll believe? I've been dealing with him for years. I keep him supplied with R. You're just some piece of shit who put a mark on him that he didn't want.”
“This is fucked.”
“You agreed to pay the price.”
“One price,” he fumes. “Not an additional price.”
“Pay up, or I will give your name to the clinic when I take him to have your little bite removed. The clinic doctors will relish sending a rapist into the system.”
The Alpha lets out a shocked snort. “I did not rape him. I paid you to use him. I paid you for the bite.”
“Prove it.”
There's a few moments of silence before he snarls. “You fucking bitch. Here. Take the goddamned money.”
“Was that so hard?” she purrs. “That's all you had to do.”
“Fuck you,” he hisses, and I don't have enough time to get out of the way before he yanks the door open to leave. He glares down at me, disgust clear on his face, and steps across my hunched body.
My eyes tear up as I watch him storm away from me, and it makes me want to scream. I don't want him. I don't want his mark. But that mark still makes this feel like a rejection.
“Kris,” I choke out. “What happened?”
“He didn't want to pay his bill. But I made sure he did.”
“He marked me.”
She walks over to me, tucking the money into her bra as her heels thud softly on the carpet. “I know, honey,” she says sadly, crouching down next to me and rubbing my back. “I know. We'll take care of it. Don't you worry.”
“You let him do it. I heard.”
“He was going to do it anyway, baby. I just made sure we got paid for it.”
We aren't getting paid for anything. She gets the money and I get the drugs. But it isn't worth taking the time to argue about it right now. Right now we need to get to the clinic. Before I start getting sick from rejection AND coming down. We can argue later.
“We need to go. It already hurts. I can feel him.”
She pats my shoulder and stands up. “I'll get you some clothes and call ahead. It'll be quick.”
It always is.