Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Charlotte
After the library, I grab a drive-thru coffee and a pastry for Lucky before heading toward home. Only, I somehow forgot that I was avoiding the streets close to the Christmas market until we’re driving by it.
It’s not even lit up, since the market is in the evenings, but Lucky doesn’t miss it.
“Mommy!” he screeches, making me jump. “Santa is there and the elves.”
“Uhh,” I grimace, glancing over. “Actually, Santa and the elves sleep during the day because they work at night.”
“What?”
“Yep, Santa delivers presents at night, and he has to sleep sometime.”
“We can go at night,” he says, clapping. “I don’t mind. We can go at bedtime. That will be okay for me.”
I chuckle.
He’s such a negotiator.
I’ll bet he doesn’t mind.
He’s already created a whole plan in his head.
Now I just have to find a night when I’m not at work and come up with the funds to back our little adventure. Ahh, to be a kid again. All they have to do is dream it up, and it’s Mom’s responsibility to figure out how to make it happen.
“How about tomorrow night?” I suggest. “I have to work tonight, but we can go tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” He pretty much destroys the word. “I guess.”
Man.
He’s a tough crowd for never chipping in on the bills.
Starting from nothing to where we are today wasn’t easy, but I’m stronger for having lived through what I did.
I shed a lot of tears during the months after I walked out of the MC clubhouse where I lived with Lucky’s dad. I had one bag of my things, and I knew I was pregnant, but at that point, I didn’t even know how far along I was.
Hell, I didn’t even know omegas could get pregnant outside of a heat, but once I understood that I had more than myself to look out for, I knew I couldn’t stick around.
It’s taken three years of busting my ass, but I’ve gotten the two of us to a place where we’re stable. Guilt still manages to eat away at me every time I have to drop him off at day care.
It makes no sense because, rationally, I know I have to work to provide for us, but omegas are sentimental.
It’s even more complicated by the fact that a lot of jobs shy away from hiring omegas.
There are laws that protect an omega’s right to work and be hired like any other designation, but a lot of job opportunities disintegrated when they realized I was an omega.
And it’s not like I can really blame them.
Having to give an employee ten to fourteen days off every three months is extreme.
It means other employees have to cover the slack, and that can cause resentment.
While I can see both sides of the situation, it also really sucks because a lot of desk jobs wouldn’t even consider me.
Even knowing that, the mommy guilt catches up from time to time.
If I could stay home with him and be independently wealthy, I would jump at the chance.
That’s not how life worked out for us, but it hurts knowing that once these years are gone, I’ll never be able to get them back.
One small blessing is that Lucky loves Mrs. Bailey and her boys. He lights up immediately upon seeing the other kids, and I have to force him away from the mess of blocks to say goodbye.
He huffs, kissing my cheek. “Love you! I wanna play.”
I smile, patting his butt. “Sorry to keep you from your friends.”
He runs back over and plops down on the floor.
One thing nobody warned me about before I became a parent?
That I would never be more exhausted and somehow still completely fulfilled. It’s also fucking terrifying having my heart walking around in another body.
It’s still the best thing I’ve done with my life so far, even if I never want to change another diaper.
When I was pregnant with Lucky, I found out how dangerous it can be for unbonded omegas to go without access to alpha pheromones during their pregnancy. It was something I never would have known about or considered if it didn’t happen to me, but it did.
I got really lucky by finding an organization that helped omegas who were leaving questionable situations. They got me out of Florida and smuggled me to Virginia. It was all very covert, which was a good thing.
A shiver runs down my spine as the flood of memories comes back in full force.
I ran like my life depended on it—because it did.
By the time I got settled in at Hope House, I was almost four months pregnant and sicker than I’d ever been. They got me in to see a doctor immediately. It was a blessing that she knew what was wrong with me.
I needed contact with alphas, and the foundation set me up for matching the very next day.
I was skittish after everything I went through with Blade—Lucky’s dad.
If it wasn’t necessary to keep my unborn baby healthy, I would have passed on matching altogether.
I got lucky, though.
I met two older alphas, Steve and Miles. They lost their omega a few years prior, and they were struggling with their own need for omega pheromones.
It was a perfect pairing since we all had emotional damage. It allowed us to focus on the basics without worrying about any messy emotions.
They saved my son’s life and kept me healthy during my pregnancy when neither of us were their responsibility. And yeah, I helped by offering my pheromones in return—Miles needed them way more than Steve because he was closer to going rabid—but they were just really good guys.
They taught me that not all alphas are hyper-aggressive psychopaths, dead set on inflicting as much pain and humiliation as possible.
Without meeting them, I never would have considered taking a job at a scent clinic. As soon as I saw the listing advertisement that mentioned they were hiring, I jumped on it, and I’ve worked at Tasty Treat Scent Clinic since the grand opening.
I love my job.
I spend my day helping feral alphas, and I make good money doing it.
What’s not to love?
Alphas who are on the edge of going rabid need access to omega pheromones, and that’s what scent clinics provide them.
Clients come in and sniff scent cards that have fabric swatches which have been soaked in our pheromones. Once they find one that appeals to their senses, they bring it up to the registration desk and book an appointment.
Sessions can range from thirty minutes to two hours, and I’ve had clients book multiple two-hour sessions in one day. As long as they’re respectful and not aggressive, I don’t mind at all.
My job is to help them, and I actually feel safer when I see repeat clients, mostly because I have an idea of the baseline that they’re starting from.
Without access to omega pheromones, some alphas end up feral. They lean into the hyper-aggressive stereotype that defines their designation, and if they ignore their needs for long enough, they can pass into rabid territory.
Both are dangerous, but rabid alphas only have one hope at mental clarity. They have to bite a scent-matched omega. Once a bond is in place, it begins to heal their mind, but it’s even better if they can head off that process before it ever gets that bad.
Feral alphas only need to be in close proximity to omega pheromones to begin to regain cognitive functioning.
That means they need us.
I remember what that feels like from what I experienced when I was pregnant with Lucky. I like to believe it gives me an understanding of what they’re going through, and I try to be empathetic with every client, even the gruff and growly ones.
Pheromone clinics are a relatively new thing, but I’m grateful omegas are no longer making house calls to skirt around the ridiculous laws that were in place before the legislation caught up.
We don’t have to have sex with a client to exchange pheromones, but the more skin touching, the faster the process, and the laws now protect our right to do so if we choose.
Also, it’s nice to know that if something ever did happen with a client, I wouldn’t be risking jail time.
Compatible alphas and omegas do seem to love to fuck like bunnies. We’ve lost three or four employees to bonding since our location opened, and it’s only been in business for six months.
Ultimately, being able to come into a set location to get their pheromone fix is convenient for the alphas, and it’s safer for the omegas.
The business has excellent security. Each room has multiple buttons to press if we need immediate assistance, and there are other safety protocols, like strapping down alphas during their first visit and muzzles, as needed.
It can feel barbaric at times, but some of the alphas who come in for treatment are teetering a little too close to the line of rabid, and it’s better to be safe than sorry.