Chapter 40
Chapter Forty
~Thane~
In all my years of living in this city, I have never passed by this rundown apartment building. After I pull up to the front of the apartment building, I double-check the address. Surely, this is not the correct place? It looks as if it is one busted window from being declared condemned.
What Omega would live here? They are territorial creatures and know the value of their Dens. Yet, when I peer around the place, I can only describe it as a dump, and I find it hard to believe she lives here.
Even so, the address is correct. Climbing out of my car, I lock it before walking over to the door and scanning the different buzzers. I’m looking for the Omega’s name when I see one listed as management. I press the buzzer, and a woman's voice screeches back at me before I can react.
"Who is it?" she snaps before coughing.
"I'm looking for the owner or manager," I answer.
"For fuck's sake," she says in a snarling tone before hitting the buzzer to let me inside. As I yank the door open and step inside the room, my nose wrinkles in disgust at the foul stench emanating from the place.
The wallpaper is peeling and the lights flicker. I hear a door creak. A woman emerges from the shadows with a bat in her hand and a scowl on her face. She walks toward me, not looking impressed about having a late-night visitor.
"And what the fuck are you looking for me for?" she snarls before she stops. She glances me over before propping her bat on her shoulder.
"I think you're on the wrong side of the city, Alpha," she says.
"I’m looking for someone, actually. Her name is Zara. Her address is listed here," the woman groans.
"She isn't here," she snaps, clearly annoyed I pulled her from bed to ask about her.
"I know that. She works for me, and I am trying to find any information I can on her. I’m wondering if I could look through her apartment?"
"She doesn't live here anymore. I evicted her a few weeks ago, but all her crap is up there still; I haven't found a new tenant yet," the woman tells me, and my brows furrow.
"Do you know where she moved to, then?" I ask her, and the woman rolls her eyes.
"Last I heard is one of my other tenants saw her sleeping behind the old plaza at Central," she shrugs before stomping up the steps.
"You tossed an Omega out when she had nowhere else to go? In the middle of winter? In a city full of Alphas," I ask, outraged. It is dangerous being homeless here, more so if you're an Omega. I don't believe this place is safe enough for an Omega, let alone living on the streets.
"Hey, don't be judging me. I got bills to pay, and Zara owed me over four thousand dollars in rent and utilities," she snaps, stopping by a door that looks as busted as the rest of this god-awful place.
"Besides, I’m sure she could have stayed with that Tal. He’s always offering her work. The girl is just too shy to take him up on it," the woman curses, and I wonder if she is talking about the same Tal. I know only one person who goes by that name, Leon's cousin.
"Tal?" I asked curiously.
"You know, that stripper joint? She worked there on and off. Went by the name Z."
I blink at that. Zara is Z? She worked for Tal! I try to wrap my mind around that information. I don't know if I’m more furious at Zara or Tal. Or the fact I have a whore working for me.
I still remember the cloying scent from the night I met Z, and it makes me gasp. I know Z is a virgin and if Z is Zara? Well, that would explain the allure she has to us. Now it makes sense why we all went into a rut over her. She’s a virgin. That has to be it.
"I thought that’s where she would have gone. Zara and Bree were pretty close. Bree lived next door to her for a bit. They must have had a falling out," the woman tells me, pushing the door open. As I step into the room, I see nothing but a shabby couch in the room's corner.
"This is it?" I ask, walking through the place. I glance over my shoulder at the woman, who looks bored. She shrugs, and I move into a small bedroom that is next to the living room. It is just as empty. This is where she lived?
Walking out, I stop in front of the woman. "What is your name?"
"Martha," she tells me, and I nod, glancing around one last time. I can't picture anyone living here, let alone an Omega; it makes me itchy just standing in this dilapidated place.
"How long have you known Zara?" I question her.
She watches me for a second, as if debating whether or not to answer.
Finally, she sighs and rubs her eyes as if tired.
It is pretty late, and I know I likely woke her because she is wearing blue pinstripe pajamas, a gray, fluffy robe, and socks.
That and the hair rollers are a dead giveaway.
She doesn't look like the sort of woman that parades around with rollers in her hair.
"Couple years. I found her out front, asleep on my doorstep.
She was barefoot, drenched in blood, and starving.
I felt bad for her. She looked as if she was running from something.
The girl was scared of her own shadow. I gave her a place to stay until she got a job.
She was quiet, stuck herself, a good tenant, but once she lost her job, I couldn't keep her here.
As I said, I have bills to pay, and she wasn't helping with them. I’m not heartless.
I tried to help, but you can only help so much," she tells me, and I nod. She’s given me much to think about.
As I leave, I stop at the door when Martha calls out to me. I turn around to face the woman.
"Is Zara in some sort of trouble?" she asks.
"What makes you think that?" I ask her.
"Well, for one, no one has ever come looking for her here, besides Bree and Tal. And if you are her employer, why didn't you just ask her?" Martha questions.
"Because she lied, her ID is fake, and her last place of employment burned to the ground."
Martha nods her head, looking at the wall above my head. "Yeah, I don't know where she got that shitty ID, but I hope she didn't pay for it," she chuckles.
"You knew it was fake?" I ask her, and the older woman nods her head.
"Blind Freddy could see it was fake, but yes, I knew. That and the fact she gave me a different last name."
"What do you mean?" I ask, turning and giving her my full attention.
"She told me a different first name than the one that is on it: Harley or Harlette. I can't remember the name exactly. I just remember it was different. A couple of weeks later, I saw the name on her ID, and it didn’t match."
"Did she ever tell you where she came from?"
"Nope, and I never asked. Zara needed help; I helped. Even helped her get the job at the firm she worked at. I try not to get to know my tenants. Most never stay long," she says before turning down the corridor and walking off.