Chapter Eleven
Brooks
When I saw Laz at the restaurant, he was wearing a suit. His hair was mostly in place. He looked stressed but well enough. Now, in the afternoon light, perched in the center of his bed, he looks... unwell. That's the best word to describe him right now.
His shirt is hanging on his thin frame the same way rags hang on a scarecrow. Heavy dark circles smudge his dull eyes, and he's visibly clammy.
“Are you alright? I ask him, taking a small step forward.
He pulls his bottom lip into his mouth, looking anywhere but at me, and nods.
“You don't look alright.”
He shrugs and focuses his gaze on the floral pattern on his comforter.
“Lazarus.”
He stops fidgeting but doesn't look at me.
“Look at me, Laz.”
My breath catches when he finally looks up at me. I can tell from the uneven dilation of his pupils that he's going to go into heat soon. But he really doesn't look well. The dark rings around his eyes make them look sunken, and paired with his pronounced cheekbones and jaw, he looks almost gaunt.
His scent, though... His scent will be a problem. I had no intentions of using the hours I paid his Alpha for for their obvious purpose, but I am going to struggle to keep my civilized composure if the pheromone level in this room rises even another half degree.
“I'll ask you again. Are you alright?”
He takes a small intake of breath. “I'm alright, Brooks. Did Kris call you here?”
“Kris is the woman?”
He nods.
“No,” I answer. “She didn't call. I called myself.”
Laz's shoulders sink. “Oh.”
“I wanted to see you again. The other night—“
Laz's eyes widen and dart toward the door behind me, and he bites both lips between his teeth.
Oh, I don't like that. But I lower my voice, just the same. “You sounded like... I wanted to come check on you. With my own eyes.”
“Thank you,” he whispers. “I'm okay.”
“Can I come sit with you?”
He hesitates but nods.
His scent gets stronger with every step I take toward the bed. This is such a mistake.
“Are you having a heat spike?” I ask him bluntly.
He blushes. “Sorry.”
“You can't help it. You're an Omega. Why did she, Kris, allow me to see you if you were this close to going into heat? Is this a regular occurrence?”
He looks down, shame tainting his beautiful scent. “It, um, I just... It's not what you think.”
“Then what is it? Because neither of the assumptions I've landed on makes me very happy.”
That's an understatement. Livid. Disgusted. Belligerently angry. If either of my guesses are true, I will not handle it well.
“Brooks. It's not... I mean...” He trails off and gasps before his face crumples and he lets out a high-pitched whine.
I can't move. I can hardly breathe. The scent of heat-laced slick floods the air between us, and I close my eyes against it. “Laz.”
“It will pass,” he hisses. “Just give me a minute.”
I open my eyes, incredulous. We both know it will be longer than a minute. “Is it bad?”
He shakes his head quickly. “Not yet.”
“I'll go. You can call me in a couple weeks when it's a better time to reco—“
“No,” he gasps, desperation evident. “Please don't. Please, Brooks. Stay.”
Heat flushes his cheeks as he whines again, and his scent becomes even more intense.
I need to leave. This is inappropriate. His Alpha is just down the hall. I don't understand why she'd allow me access to him when he's having heat spikes, but the reason isn't important right now. I rise to my feet. “I'm going.”
His pupils blow, taking over the blue all at once. “No,” he hisses. “Stay.”
Then he rushes at me. One moment he's sitting in the middle of his bed, the next he's pinning me to it. He doesn't look capable of such a thing, but an Omega in heat is a force of its own.
Laz buries his nose in the juncture of my neck and shoulder and takes long, deep breaths as he thrusts his erection against me. “Please, Brooks. Stay.”
I have too many emotions to process. They are all warring for the star role in whatever terrible decision I'm about to make.
Laz's fingers slide along my waist and start working my belt buckle.
No. This has to stop. He has an Alpha.
God, this is going to hurt. I want him so much, despite the years and the hurt and the Alpha down the hall. But I can't. I can't have him. And that's what pushes anger to the forefront.
I will never hurt Laz. Never. But I will stop this.
I wrap my hands around his wrists and pull them away from my belt, ignoring the desperate sounds he makes as he fights against it. “Laz. Lazarus. Stop.”
He growls, and I growl back. All that accomplishes is pulling another whine from him.
“Please,” he begs. “I hurt so much. I need you.”
And then I smell it. Yes, Laz is definitely having heat spikes. He's having chemically induced heat spikes. My lips curl in a disappointed snarl. I don't know why I thought he had stopped doing the drug that destroyed us.
I stand up abruptly, shoving him back onto his bed. “You need your Alpha. What would she think of you trying to fuck whoever was in front of you?”
A cold laugh barks out of him. “Who do you think keeps me in heat like this?”
I turn away from him and start moving toward the door.
“I need you, Brooks,” he rasps. “Please.”
I close my eyes again, taking a breath to steel myself. “Goodbye, Laz.”
The doorknob is icy in my hand when I twist it. Unforgiving and hard. The last thing I hear as I storm down the hall is Laz begging me to come back.
His Alpha isn't in any of the main rooms. I don't look for her, but the apartment feels empty. I don't care. I can't care. Laz isn't my Omega, and I have to leave.
The door slams behind me when I leave the apartment. I'm so stupid. I can't believe I've done this to myself. I let him pull me back into his orbit. I never should have taken his call. I need several drinks and an ice bath.
God. He smelled so good. Having his hands on me again was almost unbearable. I could have had him. His Alpha basically served him to me on a platter.
His Alpha.
Where the fuck did she go? I cannot for the life of me understand why she would allow me near him in his state. I understand even less why she'd abandon him when he's having spikes in the first place, regardless of why he's having them.
I jab my fingers at the elevator buttons and push the button that closes the door an obscene amount of times. I have to get the fuck out of here before I do something stupid.
Unfortunately, I catch Laz's Alpha's scent when I step off onto the ground floor.
Idiotic curiosity gets the best of me, and I follow it down a corridor to a closed door.
The noises coming from the other side of the door pelt me with even more confusion.
She is very obviously fucking the breath out of whoever is in there with her.
What kind of fucked-up shit is this? She's down here fucking someone when her Omega is upstairs in his nest in pain and miserable with need.
Nest.
That wasn't a nest.
It was a wrinkled, stale bed.
Laz is up there, malnourished, barely breathing through heat spikes, and he doesn't even have a fucking nest.
I'm going to rip this door off its hinges. Then I'm going to rip her... No. No, I'm not. I'm not doing either of those things. I don't know anything about whatever bullshit arrangement she and Laz have, but it's their bullshit arrangement. I can't leave him like that, though. I just can't.