Chapter 4 #2
“I have a new temp for you,” Cole answered, unperturbed by the rudeness.
Alan was a tall, thin, and ageing man. His hair was a dark grey, and he had a rough, unkempt beard that clearly hadn’t been shaved in a week or longer. He wore corduroy brown trousers and a green-and-yellow checked shirt.
His eyes flicked to me sharply and back to Cole.
“Never know what to expect with you, Colette,” he replied.
Colette?
Was Cole a nickname? It surprised me. Colette seemed wrong somehow. Less in control, less alpha. The name Colette belonged to a person vastly different from the woman beside me.
She suited Cole better.
I watched her jaw tense and relax.
“I’m bringing you something useful, Alan. The correct response is 'thank you’,” Cole said.
Alan’s eyes crinkled in amusement.
“Got to wait to see if she’s any use first before I thank you. Where’d she come from anyway?” he asked.
“She’s my omega,” Cole told him, and his eyes moved between us quickly.
“Where’d you find yourself an omega? There hasn’t been an omega in Sandstorm for a long time, much longer than me. What does Sara think about this?” he asked.
“Sara doesn’t have a say in it,” Cole snapped. “She is aware and only requests that she causes no trouble,” she explained, exhaling frustratedly.
“I don’t think it’s the girl causing trouble she needs to be worried about,” Alan said.
“She’s mine, Alan. Are you telling me your staff don’t respect you or me enough to control themselves?” she asked.
He made a noise in his throat.
“I didn’t think so,” Cole continued. “I’ll need her kept busy and safe during core hours weekdays, with flexibility during full opening hours if necessary.”
“Right. Starting now?” he asked.
“Tomorrow, she’ll be here for 8 AM,” Cole answered.
Alan nodded.
“Anything else?” he asked.
“Have a good day, Alan,” Cole answered and placed her arm around my shoulder as she guided us away from the office and further down the corridor. I heard Alan shut the office door loudly, followed by muffled muttering.
Cole only removed her arm from my shoulder to guide me forward through a door into a large kitchen-dining area.
“This is the communal kitchen. I’m not much of a cook, so I usually come to the Pack House for breakfast. The chef's table over there seats twelve; only leadership and council members can dine here. For us, the kitchen is always open. For all other pack members, two meals are served daily: morning and evening. You’ll eat with me here in the mornings, and Alan will make sure you’re not hungry during the day. ”
“Okay,” I answered, looking around the largest kitchen I had ever seen, all shiny metal.
“This is a lot to take in,” Cole said, and I looked up to see her looking at me with concern. I went to reply, but she shook her head. “When did you last sleep?” she asked.
“Last night—No, the night before last,” I answered and felt the heaviness of tiredness behind my eyes.
She stepped forward uncomfortably close and looked me over like she was examining me.
“I’ll have you home and in bed in a few hours,” she promised.
Maybe it was my lack of sleep, but what she said sounded so… suggestive, and I was painfully aware of myself and how close Cole was.
Her nostrils flared, and she smiled in a way that felt far too knowing.
She stepped closer, and I stepped back until my back hit the cold marble of a side counter.
Suddenly, I was surrounded by Cole, her arms caging me on either side, pressed against the counter.
She leaned forward, her head dipping to my chest, and inhaled audibly.
“Fuck,” she growled and lifted her head to trap me in her stare. “What game are you playing?” she asked.
“W-what?” I stuttered.
“You just hit me with a powerful burst of pheromones,” she said and swung her head to the side as if to shake off the impact.
“I—I didn’t… I didn’t mean to,” I whispered.
Cole growled louder and lifted her head to meet my eyes. I didn’t know if the shiver that ran down my spine was fear or desire.
“Sorry,” I managed to squeak.
She pushed herself forcefully away from me.
“Control yourself,” she commanded.
“I will,” I promised quickly.
“The tour’s over,” she said, and took hold of my wrist, leading me out of the kitchen, past Alan’s office, and out of the Pack House.
I didn’t complain. All I could focus on was the heat of her solid grip around my wrist.
Once outside, she released my wrist like I was burning her and inhaled loudly; clearly, she was trying to clear the scent of me from her nose.
We walked in silence back to the house, and I followed as Cole led us towards the garage.
She produced a set of keys from her pocket, and with the click of a button, the garage door lifted.
Inside, there was a sleek, luxurious black saloon car.
It looked powerful without being flashy.
Next to it was a large black-and-green motorbike.
It looked fierce, fast, and it definitely turned heads.
“You ride a motorbike?” I asked, a little shocked.
Cole turned to me with a grin, and I was pleased that it seemed the short walk back had dissipated her anger.
“I do, when the weather and my schedule permit,” she answered. “Do you ride?” she asked after a beat.
“No,” I said with a bit of a chuckle. Did I look like the type of person who knew how to ride a motorbike?
“Maybe I’ll take you out sometime,” she offered casually, and the car doors unlocked as she clicked the key. “Get in,” she commanded.
The car journey was tense. Apparently, Cole hadn’t calmed down entirely. I could feel how tense she was. She drove robotically, her back and arms stiff.
“I’m sorry about before. I really didn’t mean to do anything,” I said quietly.
I’d never been accused of using my pheromones like that. I wasn’t even aware that omegas could produce pheromones.
“Let’s not talk about it,” Cole answered with a bite to her tone.
I sat silently for the rest of the ride.
Cole parked up behind what looked like a run-down dive bar. It wasn’t what I was expecting. There were very few other cars in the lot, and despite it being daytime, the area felt unsafe.
The bar had a half-lit sign reading Heaven’s Bar, the large letters looking rusted and old. It seemed to be the only business open to the public in the area, the parking lot otherwise surrounded by what looked like warehouses.
“No games in here, omega,” Cole said as she unbuckled her belt. “This is a casual meeting, technically off the books. Don’t speak unless answering me. Do you have any allergies?” she asked.
“No?” I answered. The question was odd at the end of such instructions.
She nodded and immediately got out of the car, walking around to the passenger side and opening my door for me.
“Thank you,” I said as I got out.
Cole didn’t respond; she shut the door behind me and led me towards the dingy entrance.
Inside was surprisingly bright. I had anticipated darkness, given the lack of windows.
The outside of Heaven’s Bar reminded me of the seedy strip clubs Ashford had occasionally dragged me to, where I was scared to touch any surface and had nowhere safe to look.
But inside were wooden tables and chairs and a circular bar that looked well taken care of, even if it seemed we were the only customers.
“The Storm of Sandstorm!” a tall, fuller-figured woman in tight brown trousers and a purple vest top that showed her belly button called from behind the bar as we entered.
“Frankie,” Cole greeted enthusiastically.
“The usual?” Frankie asked.
“Not today, I’m driving. A bottle of water and two glasses. Is the kitchen open yet?” Cole replied.
“Sure is. You hungry?” she asked.
Cole nodded. “Ravenous,” she answered.
Frankie laughed and leaned her elbows on the bar.
“I bet. Especially with a pretty thing like that. Who’ve you brought with you?” Frankie asked, looking me over slowly.
I swallowed. Ordinarily, such an objectifying comment would make me uncomfortable in an entirely different way. Still, given what had recently happened in the Pack House, it felt like taunting an angry wolf.
I felt Cole’s hand slide across my back and around my hip as she pulled me gently towards her.
“This is Harriet, my omega,” Cole told her.
“My, my, my, you chose good, Cole,” Frankie responded with an exaggerated hum of approval and pushed herself away from the bar and walked towards a fridge.
“Two dressed for business, waiting on you,” she continued as she pulled open the fridge door and reached in, retrieving a large glass bottle of water.
“Don’t think they expected Heaven’s Bar when they walked in, all ego and squeaking shoes. ”
“Have they been disrespectful?” Cole asked, walking us towards the bar, releasing me and taking the two empty glasses that Frankie passed, holding them in one hand and the neck of the glass bottle in the other.
“Nothing I couldn’t put a stop to quick,” Frankie answered.
Cole nodded.
“How long have they been waiting?” she asked.
“Better part of an hour,” Frankie said.
“Running up a tab?” Cole continued.
“They like their spirits,” Frankie said with a nod towards the shelf of bottles behind her.
“I’ll take care of it on my way out,” Cole told her.
“Back room,” Frankie said, and I followed Cole across the empty bar through a door labelled Restrooms and into a hallway.
We walked past the restroom doors, which signalled their gender with little wooden images of an angel and a devil, respectively, and further down the narrow corridor, through a door labelled Staff Only, and turned the corner into another narrow corridor.
Cole led us to a door near the end, next to a fire exit.
She stood outside the door for a moment, and I waited with her, wondering who was waiting behind the door until Cole cleared her throat. I looked up at her.
“My hands are full,” she said and looked pointedly at the door handle.
“Oh, yeah, sorry,” I said as I moved forward to open the door.
The moment the door was ajar, I could hear the loud voices of two men talking over each other.