Chapter 5
Chapter
Five
BARON
Fuck. This
“It’s another seventy-five before you’re caught up, plus another fifty for the weekend. If you plan on staying,” the asshole says as he grins. “Beyond that, I’m not sure we can keep allowing you to stay here as our guest.”
Guest, my ass.
Calling anyone who stays here anything other than what they are is ridiculous, and nothing about this motel screams be our guest, we’ll take care of you like you are one.
This place is one step above a shithole, only a little better than the shelters I’ve been bouncing around, but sadly, it puts my last apartment to shame.
Mainly because of my roommates, then again, I could have been shacking up with wild, rabid wolverines and it would have been better than living with those assholes.
Which is how I wound up here.
I lost almost everything, my sanity included, and I had to do something or else I’d do something else I regretted. So, I bought a van, packed up my shit, and left Chicago.
I’ve been doing the nomad thing for a few years now, ever since my life imploded, trying to find somewhere to crash on a more regular basis, and it’s led me to a lot of really fucked up places to stay.
I’ve mostly frequented shelters, homeless haunts as one person called them, but I’ve sprinkled in a few hostels and motels along the way.
Then I came home.
After living in the midwest for so long, I wasn’t sure how I was going to feel about being somewhere hotter than the surface of the sun again.
I didn’t think I was going to like it at all, actually, and I definitely didn’t think I was going to want to stick around, but I did.
It was just so different from where I spent the last decade, such a drastic change from what I had grown accustomed to that it actually felt like a reset.
Like I could get the fresh start I so desperately needed.
I parked my van at the beach and started looking for apartments, grateful I didn’t need to do more than that for a long while, and that’s when I found the listing looking for an alpha as a roommate.
I think I lasted two days with those skeezy bastards before I decided I was either going to murder them, or end up living out of my van again.
I chose the latter, for the greater good, and all that shit.
Baiting an omega under the guise of safety when the real plan was essentially a sex slave was a hard pass for me, but it didn’t quite warrant a killing spree.
That’s when I moved out.
I didn’t go far, though. I couldn’t. Not when I knew what they were planning. I staked out the building and tried like hell to deter new tenants every chance I got, right up until the landlord called the cops on me. After that, I started renting a room at the closest motel.
This motel.
The one run by a piece of shit who charges way too much for a shitty mattress, stuffy room, and a shower that runs hot less than half of the time.
Not to mention, most of the other guests are sex workers, drug addicts, or the people who facilitate both.
I don’t care what anyone does as long as it doesn’t affect me, but I’m a firm believer in treating everything with a pulse with a level of respect until they prove they don’t deserve it.
Their lifestyles don’t mean they should be subjected to subpar living conditions at a rate that doesn’t make sense for them.
Especially when this douchebag samples everything they have to offer without their permission, then makes them pay even more when they protest, and eventually threatens them with homelessness or the authorities just to get his way.
He doesn’t like that his bullshit doesn’t work on me.
This fucker thinks I’m in the same position as they are financially, thinks I need him and his shithole the same way everyone else does, and he’s been trying to put pressure on me the entire time I’ve been here.
If he only had a clue.
I refuse to pay him for my room when I see him kick out someone who didn’t deserve it and that’s why I’m standing here counting out about three weeks worth of room fees. I’m getting caught up so I can get the fuck out of here. It’s time, and I have shit to do that’s going to take me elsewhere.
“I’m not staying,” I grunt as I count out another month’s worth. “But you can apply this to room seventeen.”
The manager’s eyebrows raise as he double checks what I gave him. “Why are you paying for that slut?”
I grit my teeth as I watch him, reminding myself I don’t need to go back to prison.
He’s referring to the single mother who’s been staying here ever since she left her abusive mates. The one trying desperately to raise her two kids on her own.
Helena.
This is all she can afford with what she managed to take from her pack, and the tiny paychecks she pulls at the truck stop down the street.
They let her bring her kids with her but they don’t pay enough for her to make a decent living.
So, I’m covering another couple weeks of rent, and I slid an envelope under her door with about a month’s worth, for groceries or whatever, or just in case this fucker decides to pocket the cash without applying it to her room.
Which reminds me.
“You’re going to make sure that goes to her rent, right?”
“Yeah, yeah. Sure.” He doesn’t look up, he barely acknowledges me as he counts the stack in his hand again.
“Hey,” I snap as I take a step toward him. “Look at me.”
The dumbass waves me off and before he can say whatever dismissive bullshit he’s thinking, I have him by the shirt collar and slammed against the door to his office, the bills in his hands exploding like confetti around us.
“Do you know why I had to leave the Yetis?”
He blinks wide, scared eyes at me and shakes his head. “I don’t follow hockey.”
I lean in close, putting us almost nose to nose as I grin. “Manslaughter. Killed a player on the ice during a game. A fight broke out and I split his head open with my skate, cracked right down the middle like a cantaloupe. No one knew if it was from excessive force, or sociopathic tendencies.”
It was sociopathic tendencies, but no one knows that.
No one except my brother.
We both went pro at young ages, playing for different teams—he stayed in California while I went to Illinois—and when Dax faced the Philly Icecaps, Collin Ronson tried to assault him in the locker room after the game.
So, when the Yetis got the chance to play the Icecaps, I made sure the team captain got what was coming for him, and I managed to make it look like a fucking accident.
“Helena has my number,” I say, lowering my voice to something more menacing. “She will call me if she has any trouble with her rent, or housing situation.”
The shithole manager nods emphatically and swallows hard. “Got it.”
“Do you? Because I swear to fuck, if I have to come out here because she owes you anything for at least a month, I’ll show you how excessive my force can be. Got it?”
He nods again and I let him go, the dumbass falling to the floor in a heap at my feet before I spin on my heel and stalk out of the lobby.
Helena doesn’t have my info but I’ll be keeping tabs on things.
I can’t help it. Dax and I were raised by a single mother who busted her ass to provide for us, to make sure we went to school and hockey practice so we could have a real shot at making something of ourselves.
I saw so much of my situation in theirs, it was hard for me to sit by and let this motherfucker take advantage of her.
I pull my keys from my pocket as I walk toward my van, my mood a little too sour for my liking, and that’s exactly why I decide to take a little drive to a nicer part of L.A.
To a parking space across the street from a swanky ass apartment building, to be more specific.
I throw my van in park, roll down the window, and cut the engine just as my omega walks through the front lobby, the cute little girl with dirty blonde curls right on his heels.
Watching them interact makes me smile.
They go back and forth like they’ve known each other forever, like they’re actually family and not just nanny and client, and I’ve gotten a kick out of it ever since he started working for her.
I found him while I was trying to keep people from moving into my old apartment.
A potential new target for those fucked up alphas and when I went to stop him, his scent, the overwhelming fragrance of lemon cake hit me like a ton of bricks and I’ve been keeping tabs on him ever since.
When he got hired for this job, I was relieved.
It was a stable place to live, a roof over his head, food in his belly, somewhere safe and secure. And he seemed to like it from the very beginning.
He still seems to like it.
Always laughing and smiling, playing with the little girl. Going for walks, running around the park. It’s cute to watch them together, and that means there’s a lot of job security in this for him.
I might not be a huge fan of my omega working for a single person, but if it means he’s safe and in a place I can find him, I’ll deal with it.
Then I frown.
Is that a suitcase?
It is. It’s a goddamn suitcase and I can only hope it’s—
“I’ve never been on a train before!” The little girl squeals as she hoists the straps of her backpack higher. “It’s going to be so super fun!”
My omega nods as he laughs. “Super fun, huh?”
“Yep! I’m almost as excited to see Daddy as I am to ride the train!”
I clench my jaw and my ears start to ring, anger simmering in my veins as they finish loading the car and get inside.
So help me, if that little girl isn’t the only one under the roof of the penthouse using the term daddy, I will blow a fucking gasket.
Well, it looks like I’m taking a goddamn train ride to god knows where.