Chapter 12
Noelle
One week later
Nausea and exhaustion beat at me as I take my place in the call center. All around me, coworkers go on and on about their plans for the holidays. They have such joy, such excitement. Honestly, it’s enough to make me puke.
Or is it the leftovers I had last night? Either way, I can’t keep my stomach from threatening to revolt as I look at the screen in front of me. Being so close to Christmas, we’re bound to be overwhelmed by callers wanting their services turned on or reinstated.
Unfortunately, I’ve been there, done that, and crafted the tee shirt with my tears. The only reason I’m not on the other end of these calls is because I get a free phone line with this company. I just need to stay a good enough employee to not lose this job.
Taking in a deep breath, I do my best to clear my head and get on with my day.
All around me, the other workers stay bright and cheerful while talking to the most vile of customers.
I, on the other hand, can’t seem to fully keep it together.
Yes, I’m nice and cordial on the phone. I try to do what I can to help them, but after a bit, their caustic voices, their shouted demands, their horrid cursing break something in me.
Tears blur my eyes as I turn off my phone and mark that I’m taking one of my fifteen minutes allotted time. The only reprieve I have is outside, where the icy wind whips through me, making my teeth chatter. It’s painful, but a far better sensation than the sweltering heat of the office.
Staring at the ground, the nausea from earlier threatens to return.
Has to be something I ate. Even with the extra money I had, I made sure Daniel was fed first. He’s the one who I’m truly worried about.
Unfortunately, that left me cleaning out the fridge of whatever was left.
Maybe after Christmas there will be a sale on the unsold food.
A dull itch resides under my skin as I continue to stand there, letting the wind whip into me. Try as I might, I can’t seem to scratch it. I can’t get it to go away. God. The last thing I need is to be sick.
Slipping back inside, I use the last few minutes to look at my bank account. The app Jason had me install helped in many ways—at least now I can’t overdraw without knowing it. The problem is, I can’t stop checking it.
Every time I use my card, I check it. Every time I think something might have come out, I check it. It’s pathological at this point. An addiction I cannot seem to kick. The only saving grace is the notification Jason set to let me know when my account goes below a certain amount.
I’m not even close to it, yet I can’t stop checking. Fucking pavlovian. At least it’s something else to think about that’s not Jason Locke and the absolute perfection of his body.
Slick gathers at my thighs as my mind conjures the image of his massive cock. Fucking traitor. I’m supposed to be getting him out of my mind, not nearly panting over him while at my office desk.
Reaching out, I fix the pens lying haphazard in my cup. What is wrong with them? Why can’t they just stay straight? But no matter how hard I try, they slump in ways that have no rhyme or reason—only chaos.
Frustrated, I turn my attention to the sticky notes in the corner. Those I’m able to shift about until they look perfect. It’s something, at least. Those stupid pens keep making my eyes twitch, though.
Unable to stand it any longer, I open my drawer and dump them all in.
But that just makes everything worse. Nothing in the drawer is orderly.
Instead of taking calls, I find myself rummaging about, fixing everything like a woman possessed.
It’s not until one of my coworkers calls out, telling me to get on my phone before I get fired, that I even realize time has passed… a lot of it.
Fear and desperation edge out the need for rightness, but it doesn’t take it away completely. So that I don’t allow myself to fall into another time trap, I don’t even take a break. I continue to work through until my bladder screams so loudly, I just can’t ignore it.
Shuffling to the restroom, I look at my account again. Even lower. Fuck. Maybe I shouldn’t have paid down debt or paid ahead. Now, I don’t have the luxury of looking at cold hard cash.
Desperation claws at my throat as I sit there, fingers trembling and heart pounding in my chest. I need more. I need to feel safe. I need to find a way to just get ahead. The clinic does that. It helps me pay for things far faster than this current job.
Closing my eyes, I recall the woman at the bank who gave me the card in the first place. She was head to toe opulence. She was everything I longed to be but never could manage to become. Problem is, at this point, I don’t need all that. I don’t need furs and diamonds.
What I want is far more simple. I want safety and security for my brother and me. I want him to have the best food he can and never go hungry. I don’t want to depend on the charity of my neighbor. Not for food or for watching him.
If I had the money, there are so many programs I could put Daniel in where I just know he’d thrive. He’s asked, but never pushed, never demanded. When I’d tell him, “It’s not in the budget, bud,” he’d look a touch sad and dejected, but he never argued with me.
God, how I wish I could give him the world. I can’t do that working here. No matter how I save, how little I do for myself, this job just barely covers the normal bills. It will never account for anything extra.
As much as I hate the idea of whoring myself out, it’s a big enough payday to actually let me do those little things most people think nothing of. It will give me the boost I need to help my brother and me thrive instead of just barely survive.
It’s not wrong, right? This is totally justifiable, right? And it has absolutely nothing to do with one sexy Jason Locke. Not at all. If he happens to be the one to fuck me, then I’ll consider that an added bonus.
The phone screen blurs as my hands shake so violently, I fear I’ll drop it into the toilet.
He ordered me away. He demanded that I never return.
Hell, he fucking paid me money to never go back.
But he’s not my boss. He’s not my owner.
He sure as hell isn’t my mate. He has no claim on me or what I do.
Holding back a sob, I type in my information and send it.
The pit in my stomach grows wide as I wait for it to process.
With it being so close to Christmas, I’m sure the Alphas have already settled up with whoever they’re going to fuck through the holidays.
I can only hope there’s someone who could want me.
Would they be kind?
Would they ravage me the way Jason threatened?
Would they hurt me?
Will it be worth it? Honestly, to see the bags disappear from Daniel’s face, to see him happy and hopeful, yes. I’d endure hell itself, if that’s what it took. My suffering means nothing if it means he’ll be okay. I’m used to looking out for me, to going without. I can’t keep forcing that onto him.
Within moments, a message pops up. Sweat beads on my forehead as I whisper it out loud to myself. “We have secured you a match. See you this evening.”
My throat goes dry as I keep reading it over and over. It can’t be real. It can’t be happening this fast. Both elation and horror settle into my gut. I’m so grateful to have a bit of extra cash this close to Christmas, but now I have to face the ramifications.
Jason said he was showing me mercy. He said another would hurt me. He promised retribution if I ever went back. Do I dare hope it’s him? But that’s absurd. It’s not like he’s sitting there pining for me. I’m sure he hasn’t given me another thought since leaving me at the clinic about a week ago.
What if it’s that Alpha from before? The one I saw sitting in the waiting room. He wanted me from the moment he looked at me. My gut clenches as my insides heave. Hopefully, it’s not him.
A soft ding permeates my thoughts, bringing my attention back to my phone.
Willoughby Rut Clinic
Miss Hayes. I am messaging to inform you that your services are required for an extended session.
These are typically about a week long, so please plan accordingly.
Please make sure to come dressed in the outfit you picked out when leaving our offices last week.
See you this evening, and as always, thank you for using Willoughby Rut Clinic for all your carnal needs.
A week? I can’t be gone for a week! What will I do with Daniel? How will I explain this?
Glancing at the clock on my phone, I note I only have about an hour left before being at the clinic.
Hopefully, I’ll have enough time to get everything prepared before I go.
To be there for a week means more than enough cash to get me not only through the holidays, but possibly get him enrolled in some after-school activities in the new year.
A mixture of glee, giddiness, and abject fear dumps into my veins, making me unsteady as I walk back to my cubical. Despite having relief at knowing I’ll be able to take care of my little makeshift family soon enough, sweat continues to drip down my spine.
None of the other coworkers seem to be overheated. In fact, some of them bundle in sweaters as they take care of the last of their phone calls. Must just be all the emotions running through me. That, or I really am getting sick.
That’s the very last thing I need. This massive payday will help so much. I can’t be sick. I just can’t.
As soon as I clock out, I race home and get everything ready for when Daniel gets back. Thankfully, he only has one day left before break, and the busses will get him there and take him back. It’s the evenings that I worry about.
Sliding over to my neighbor, I knock on her door and fiddle with my fingers until she opens it. Just one look from her confirms I must look awful. The concern etched on her face is enough to make my stomach flip and my pulse spike.
“Dear,” she murmurs as she eases out into the hall. “Are you well? You look horrible.”
“Really?” I try to laugh off. “I- I don’t know. It’s been a long few weeks.”
“I can imagine. But you’ll be getting a Christmas break soon, right?”
“Right! But… before then… I… Well, I have the biggest favor to ask of you.”
“Anything, dear. Name it.”
“Can you watch out for Daniel?”
“But of course. I have no-”
“For about a week.”
Her eyes narrow a bit as she wipes her hands on her shirt. “Are you in some kind of trouble?”
Heat licks up my neck and cheeks as that infernal itching returns. “No, no. Nothing like that. I- I have a job. But it’s going to require me to be out of town for a bit. I can’t turn it down. Not with… Well… You know.”
Though we’ve never talked about my financial situation, she knew. She always knew. That’s why she always brought over her “leftovers.” Even now, her lips turn down into that knowing frown.
“You’re going to work yourself to death.”
“I know… I know…” Pulling out my phone, I text her my boss’s number. “Can you also call my boss tomorrow and tell him I’m deathly sick? Just so I don’t lose my job?”
This time, when her gaze narrows, there’s a hint of suspicion with it. “Is this not for your current job?”
“No. It’s something extra. Something-”
“It’s not drugs. Is it?” she interrupts.
A startled laugh bursts from my chest. “Heavens no. It’s not illegal or anything. Just… embarrassing.”
She crosses her arms and glares at me. “I’m not doing anything to help until you tell me exactly where you’re going and what you’re doing. What happens if there’s an emergency?”
Glancing about, I bite down on my lower lip for a moment. “Promise not judge?”
“No. I don’t. Spill it. It has to be something horrid for you to beat around the bush like this.”
“It’s the rut clinic,” I murmur, humiliated to the core at having said it out loud. “I’ve been requested for a long session.”
Instead of chastising me, she tosses her head back and laughs.
“Is that all? God, but the way you acted made me think you were doing a contract killing. Nothing wrong with working there for a bit. Did it myself to get some extra cash. Go. I’ll take care of Daniel.
You just enjoy.” She shakes her head as she giggles again.
“If I were young again, I’d be right there with you.
Hmmm. Those Alphas. Those rippling muscles.
All the pleasure and none of the commitment.
That is, until I found my Henry, God rest his soul. Go. Go. Daniel will be just fine.”
My heart pounds in my chest as I make my way back into the apartment to grab my clothes. All the pleasure and none of the commitment. If only. That’s how it’s supposed to be, but my heart has other plans.
How desperately I wish it were Jason waiting for me. But that’s a pipe dream. What are the chances that he’ll be back there? He had his fun. How often do Alphas need to fuck, anyway?
Shaking my head, I do my best to ignore the screaming in my head at the mess that comprises my room. Everything is so off kilter it’s insane. Has it always been this wrecked? Have I let myself go this badly?
I pull out the outfit and stare at it. Odd that they want me dressed in this. Perhaps they want it back? I thought it was mine. Maybe Jason refused to pay for it, so they’re making me find something else. Pity. It really is the most comfortable thing I own.
Just in case, I pack a change of clothes. This time, I plan to come prepared. If only I can prep my heart and body for the devastation I’m sure is about to occur.