Chapter 3
Emmett
Five years later
“Angel, you’re up,” my boss, Rico, barks from the doorway to the dressing room. If you can even call a closet-sized nook with a broken mirror and chipped end-table a dressing room.
“I’m coming,” I grunt, dread filling me like it does every time I have to work.
I fucking hate this job. But it’s the only thing I could find that pays enough to cover the bills. Believe it or not, there aren’t a lot of jobs out there for a male Omega who’s a high school dropout.
You know what is in high demand, though? Omegas who are willing to strip on stage and fuck people for money. Both of which I’m good at, unfortunately.
Taking one last look in the mirror, I shake my head. The glitter lining my cheeks catches the light and makes my lip peel back in disgust.
I have nothing against sex workers. What we do is hard and valid work.
It’s this place, this sick, fucked up dive bar that is run by a monster with no morals.
Rico doesn’t give a fuck about what happens in this place as long as he gets money from the customers.
My blond hair has grown out enough that it curls at the ends, giving it more of a wavy look. The men love being able to grab it. It’s fucking sick.
The shimmery highlighter on my cheeks makes my blue eyes pop, adding to the look Rico wants me to have.
Sweet and feminine.
I’m not a twink, there’s enough men here who are. So why the fuck do I have to change who I am to please this fucker?
Just because I’m a pretty boy?
I used to work out religiously in the group home growing up. It was the only way to get away from my shitty foster parents. It gave me power, made me stronger.
Then it all went away when I woke up shortly after my eighteenth birthday. I was surprised to find out I wasn’t an Alpha like I expected, but an Omega.
While it was disappointing, my plan was to make the best of it. Easier said than done.
I aged out of the system, and the group home was quick to toss me on my ass, leaving me, a new Omega, with no place to live.
Using my body to get by wasn’t what I had planned for my life, but it was what I was forced to do.
It’s been a year since I started working at the Slick Shack. I tried to leave when I realized how fucked up this place was, but when Rico found out, he used his Alpha bark and commanded me not to leave his place if I was going to dance at another.
But I can’t do this anymore. I’d rather die than let one more sleazy Alpha put his hands on me.
What Rico doesn’t know is that I’m escaping tonight. I already packed up everything I own, not that it’s much. It’s all waiting in my shitty, beat-up car, ready to go.
There's been a lot of whispers by other Omegas here of a place in the Colorado mountains. A town in the middle of nowhere. A place safe for Omegas to start over.
But talk is all it’s been. When I tried to look up the place, I couldn’t find anything on it. Without knowing a name, it's nearly impossible to find anything credible online.
Still, I’m willing to take that chance. Willing to risk everything I’ve saved for the past six months to drive there in hopes of finding this mythical haven.
What's the worst that could happen? I don’t find the place and start over in whatever nearby town I stop in? It’s better than staying here.
Heading out to the stage, I hold it together long enough to do my routine.
It reeks of Alphas, the smell so strong it stings my nose. I grit my teeth and push through.
Rico doesn't allow us to take blockers or suppressants, stating it would ruin the experience. At least being nineteen means I don’t have to worry about going into heat just yet.
I’ll be long gone from here and living a new life before that happens.
The men shout and whistle, tossing dollar bills onto the stage.
Knowing I need every bit of money I can get, I move away from the pole and sway my body toward the edge of the stage, letting the men shove bigger bills into my G-string, before blowing them a kiss and giving them a wink.
What I really want to do, though, is vomit at their touch.
After my set is done, I gather my money and leave the stage.
“Good work,” Rico grunts around his cigarette. “A few men are asking for private lap dances in the back,” he informs, holding out his hand for his cut. I grind my teeth and count the money. Five hundred. Not bad.
I give him the hundred-dollar bill. He snatches it out of my hand and shoves it into his pocket. “Good boy,” he growls.
“No sex,” I tell him.
“What?” He glares at me.
“I can’t have sex with any of them.”
“Why the fuck not?”
God, this is so embarrassing, but I have to remember it’s a lie, one that will get me out of having to fuck one of those men tonight.
“I’m on antibiotics,” I say, clearing my throat.
He frowns harder. “The fucking clap?” he groans, and I nod my head.
I love having to lie about having chlamydia.
The fucked up part is, there is a good chance of getting it in a place like this.
While we’re required to get regular STD testing, Rico lets the customers go without protection.
Afterwards, I have to scrub my body raw.
The amount of douches I have to do in a week makes me sick.
Literally. You’re not supposed to, but I put alcohol in it for an added cleansing.
“Fuck sakes. Fine. Go,” he growls.
Nodding, I dip back into the shitty dressing room and stash my money in my bag before heading toward the back room.
Thankfully, the dances don’t take long, and only a few men get handsy. After I’m done, I head back, get dressed in a pair of black joggers and a grey hoodie, and grab my bag. Then I go find Rico to give him his cut so I can leave.
“Angel, I need you to take over Jimmy’s shift tomorrow night,” Rico says as I’m about to leave his office.
“Sure,” I mutter, knowing damn well I won’t be here.
The cool Utah summer air feels good, replacing the pungent smell of the club as I race towards my car.
Throwing the door open, I slam it shut, locking it quick. Pulling out the wad of cash from my bag, I count the money again. Three grand. Three fucking grand. Add that to what I’ve already saved, and I’m set for months before I’ll need to find another job.
“Hell yes.” I laugh, my eyes lifting to look at the neon sign. “Fuck you,” I shout, flipping off the sign, then shoving the money in the bag.
I’m running off pure adrenaline, eager to get the hell out of here. It’s only an eight-hour drive from here to Colorado. If I leave now, I might be able to make it by morning.
Without knowing the exact address of this town that I’m not even sure really exists, I pick the first small town closest to the mountains and decide to start there. I’m in no rush.
Pulling out of the club’s parking lot, I head to the nearest gas station to fill the car up and stock up on snack food and energy drinks.
The drive goes well until I hit hour four. My eyes are heavy, and my ass hurts from sitting for so long. I’m forced to stop and piss a lot because of all the energy drinks I’m chugging to keep myself awake.
By the time I reach the first town in Colorado, I’m dead on my feet. I’d hardly gotten any sleep the night before I had to work, too nervous about the trip I’d be making today. I should have stopped to get some sleep, but I’m here now.
Pulling into a little cafe, I get out and groan while stretching my hands over my head. Maybe I’ll have a bit of luck on my side, and someone here will know something about this mystery town.
Letting out a breath, I head inside.
The lady behind the counter looks at me warily. I give her a polite smile before heading toward the bathroom.
She steps out in front of me and shakes her head. “Bathrooms are for customers only.”
“I just need to pee real quick, then I’ll be out of your way,” I try.
“I’m sorry, sir, but last time we let a man like you in, we had to repair the sink.”
A man like me? An Omega?
I look down and groan. Or a homeless man. Fuck. I didn’t even realise how much of a mess I must look like.
There’s a mustard stain on my hoodie from the gas station hot dog that I got in the middle of the night. Add in the bags that are most likely under my eyes and the rumpled hair, I can see how she might think that.
“Of course.” I nod and step back to look at the menu taped to the counter. “I’ll have a coffee and a stack of chocolate chip pancakes.” I pull out my wallet and give her a twenty. Her eyes widen, and she smiles.
“That will be right out.”
I nod again and dip into the bathroom to relieve myself and wash up quickly, cringing at the state of myself in the mirror. Yeah, I understand why she thought what she thought.
I do my best to get the stain out of my hoodie with some water, soap, and paper towels before heading back out.
My order is waiting for me on the counter. I grab it and take it to a nearby table.
The food is amazing, and I eat it far too quickly before washing it down with the coffee.
“Everything good?” the older waitress asks me.
“Perfect. Thank you.” I smile, nodding.
She goes to take my plate when I stop her.
“Hey, could I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
I lick my lips, nervous again, hoping I don’t sound like some crazy person looking for a made-up town.
“Do you, by any chance, know of a town somewhere around here? In the mountains?”
“You would have to be more specific. There are a few towns that meet that description."
I look around at the few other customers, but they’re all older folks, who seem to be minding their own business. “A town for... ah, for people like me.”
“Homeless?” She gives me a playful smile.
I snort a laugh. “No. Omega.”
Her face softens, and she watches me for a long moment.
“I knew it was too good to be true.” I sigh in defeat when she doesn’t answer me, looking out the window to watch the few passing cars.
When I turn back, she’s gone.
Fuck. Maybe I can ask around. Someone else might know something, right?
I’m standing up, ready to leave when she comes back. “Here’s your receipt.”