Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Silva
I’m prepping the bar the way I like it, knowing that it’ll be busy. I prefer it that way, as it means I won’t have a chance to feel anything.
My truck isn’t ready yet, something Syrus apologized profusely for. I know it’s not his fault. Apparently, someone’s car blew up in Shep’s garage, causing chaos.
Syrus had someone drive him back to the club last night, and then he drove me home.
I appreciate that he worries about me, and he promised to get my truck for me today.
Trivia night ran a little later than normal, and then I had a hard time winding down after the chaos of the day.
It made for a rough night falling asleep.
There’s a heaviness in the air. It feels like the razor’s edge between a rainstorm and lightning. The anticipation of change is making me feel really twitchy.
I went for a run this morning with Syrus, or rather, he broke into my house to coerce me into going with him so he could feed me bagels and coffee. If he still has my keys, is it considered a B and E? I suppose since he’s the law he’d be a better judge of that than I would be.
He’s my own personal shadow until I get the truck back, which means he also drove me to work. I’m dragging all around today, and it was easier to simply accept the ride as graciously as possible.
Yawning, I pull out an energy drink from the fridge behind me in response to my exhaustion.
“Game faces, people!” I yell, opening the can with a scowl.
“Was that for us or you?” Emmett snorts as he passes me.
“Ugh, both,” I admit. “We open in twenty minutes, and I’m being reminded that six in the morning is not an hour I’m used to seeing.”
“Me either,” he chuckles. “We’ll be ready. You might need to mainline a few of those, Silva.”
“Nah, once we get into the flow, I’ll be good,” I promise. I unfortunately have some experience with not sleeping well.
Thank god for really good concealer.
Yes, I’m wearing makeup to work tonight. It’s understated, though Syrus gave me a long look and a kiss when he picked me up tonight. I have a feeling he notices more than most guys do, and may be looking forward to seeing if this is also smudgeproof.
Spoiler: it is.
My leopard sheer undershirt is my nod to color, and I have a leather crop top over it with black cargo pants.
My combat boots are comfortable and stompy, and my hair is pulled into a braided messy bun.
I wanted to look like someone who doesn’t take any shit, and as the lights go down and the doors open, I hope I pulled that off.
Syrus has been a wealth of information today, and explained that we have visitors in town. I have no idea if they’ll drop by the club, but I have to admit that if these guys are looking for intel, this place is a bevy of information. New people make me twitchy overall because they’re not vetted.
I need to get Lark on finding out who these guys are, but without names or eyes on them, that’s a tall order to ask for.
It doesn’t help that Syrus told me he didn’t trust the beta that he was speaking to last night. If they’re looking to talk to me about a cold case, they’ll be shit out of luck.
I’ll soon be too slammed to carry any sort of conversation, and I promised to keep my mouth shut in exchange for Widows Peak’s safety. This place continues to be paid for in the terror and trauma of those still at the Henderson mansion.
It doesn’t matter how nice the cage is, it’s still no way to live. Gideon is still free to do as he pleases, while we get our freedom.
Inhaling deeply, I find it too difficult to smile. It’s a good thing I have a reputation for being grumpy. Finishing off my energy drink, I toss the can in the trash and signal to my backup bartender to take the opposite end of the bar from me.
It’ll be easier to keep out of each other’s way, and we’ll be able to split the bar to take care of customers. As expected, people pour into the club after work, and I get busy quickly.
The hours fly by, and I glance in Maura's direction to find that she’s speaking with a gorgeous man I’ve never met before. Keeping my eyes on her, my hands continue to pour drinks on autopilot. I’ve been doing this for a lot of years, it’s almost second nature to me.
Is this who Sy was talking about? The neon lights make it difficult to see him, but he has tattoos over his tan skin, and he has brilliantly white teeth as he smiles at Maura.
I notice that he’s collecting three different drinks, which means he’s either having a bad fucking day, or he’s here with other people.
Tearing my eyes away, I hand out drinks and take payments as I work.
If they want to talk to me, they’ll have to put on their big boy boxers and come to my side of the bar. Otherwise, they can keep their mysterious personas. Syrus is right about the town getting ready for the first snow.
People have been talking about how they’re preparing as they drink their beers, and bitching that they're never ready to see fall go. The leaves are a gorgeous array of colors, which is simply another reminder that winter can never seem to wait its fucking turn. This also means at some point before it gets too bad, we’ll have an influx of omegas in town.
It happens every year, as if the threat of not being able to drive through the mountains to get to us fuels their desire for a different future.
When that happens, they’ll need a place to stay.
While the rumor mill is strong here, I haven’t heard much about the alphas and their beta friend who are in town.
I don’t know where they’re staying, but they’ll find themselves displaced soon enough, as omegas get first dibs at the bed and breakfasts at Widows Peak. I doubt anyone will want to take them in, and they’ll have to leave of their own accord.
We chose this place for many reasons. The best one is how isolated it can become when we have snow dumped on us.
I can’t help my internal smirk as I move down the bar to give Maura her break.
“Hey, it’s about that time,” I say in her ear, careful to make sure she notices me before speaking.
Spooking easily is an omega trait, especially when you’ve seen some shit. I take that into account when speaking to anyone on my staff. It’s easier to pretend to have a bell on your person than being too light on your feet.
It also ensures I don’t have to worry about as many glasses being broken because I scared the shit out of someone. I’m naturally quiet when I walk, used to not wanting to be seen. Old habits die hard, which is why I try so hard to be cognizant of it.
“Silva, I can’t leave you alone with this crowd,” she says stubbornly.
“You can,” I shrug. “I got this, babe. Take thirty.”
“I’ll take fifteen,” she growls.
“Then I’ll have to pay you more,” I say forlornly. “Off you go.”
“You’re so difficult,” Maura grumbles good naturedly.
Oh, she’s got no idea.
I take over with the customer she just gave a drink to, seamlessly taking his payment and sticking the tip in a jar for Maura.
“I’ll make sure she gets that,” I say easily. “Let me know if you need anything else.”
“Thanks, Silva,” he says.
Nodding, I move on to the next person, taken by surprise when I see it’s an alpha I don’t know. He has dark hair pulled back in a way that makes me think he has a man bun, he towers over me, and his long lashes almost hide his eyes as he leans over on my bar.
“Hey, how can I help you,” I say pleasantly. I refuse to appear spooked. I hate to say that I’m not the best around new alphas, but it’s true. He looks like he should smell like bad decisions and sin, whatever it is that might be.
There’s so many scents around me, I can’t pinpoint his, which makes it harder to hold onto my pleasant expression. It doesn’t matter how hot he is, or the amount of ink on his arms that reminds me of a tapestry, I’m not impressed.
Alphas aren’t on my bingo card ever. I think Brad, Luke, and his friends broke something inside of me. Instead, I fight the uncomfortable feeling under my skin and feel grateful that Lexi isn’t here tonight.
“Can I get a beer?” he asks.
“Anything else?” I ask, grabbing the same type of beer I saw Maura pour earlier for the guy Sy described to me.
What did he say his name was? I can’t remember with my thoughts tied up in knots.
It’s easier than asking to simply pour the beer, and a piece of me wants to send this guy away as soon as possible. Anxiety is threatening to claw up my insides, and it’s all I can do to pretend I’m fine.
“Yeah, is your birthday January nineteenth?” he asks.
The world falls away as my hand finds my cattle prod. It’s within easy reach thankfully, and I immediately ask myself if it would be overkill if I had one mounted on hooks every few feet on the bar.
My hand pulls it free and I shove it against the alpha’s neck as I glare at him, the beer forgotten as the glass falls over.
I press the prod against his bare skin, only pulling it away for long enough for him to hear the sound of electricity running through it as I press the button before releasing it again.
“No hablo ingles,” I say without thought, pulling what I remember from Spanish lessons I learned from high school.
“Ah, darlin, we were just getting to know each other,” he says, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “That’s quite the weapon for an omega like you, isn’t it?”
“Fuck it. Sorry Sy,” I grunt.
“My name isn’t—”
The alpha’s head snaps back as I press the button, his body convulsing as if he’s had whiplash.
“Emmett!” I yell, knowing he’ll hear me, wherever he is. He’s got a soft spot for other omegas overall, but he always has eyes on everyone at the club, or makes sure someone does.
The alpha in front of me goes down hard. God love this town, because instead of freaking out, people simply move slightly and continue to talk.
“Sorry, guys. Give me a second,” I say, moving from behind the bar.
“Should I call the sheriff?” someone asks.
“Nah, whatever he did, I’m sure he deserved it,” a warm voice says behind me.
I turn, leading with the cattle prod because I don’t recognize that voice, only for the alpha to shove the prod away from him, his hand keeping it captive.
A tug of war with my weapon wasn’t what I thought I’d be doing tonight.
“I, on the other hand, am completely innocent,” he says. His red hair is brilliant against the neons of the club, and expect he won’t be very amused when my boot meets his knot. “I’m Kyren.”
“I’m not interested,” I growl.
A hand crushes his, announcing that Emmett is here, and I have to use every ounce of my strength not to slouch in relief.
“Do I need to take out the garbage, Silva?” he asks.
The alpha on the ground beside my feet pushes himself onto his elbows, looking slightly dazed as he gazes up at me.
“You’re pretty,” he says.
“You’re insane,” I mutter. “I don’t have time for this.”
“Harlan comes on too strong sometimes, but he means well.”
Now that Kyren is no longer holding my weapon, I step back as I glare at the group before me.
The man who was getting drinks from Maura earlier is clearly Latino.
Now that he’s closer to me, I can see he has a deep tan, short brown hair, and a goatee.
I can’t hear an accent in his words, but I have a feeling he may have trained it away somehow.
“You three need to leave,” I reply. “I’ve got a full house tonight, and I’m sure someone has called the cops by this point.”
“Your boyfriend, right?” the beta asks with a sly smile.
“You’re being creepy,” Emmett practically growls angrily. His anger is almost tactile, and I’m angry on his behalf that these guys are triggering him.
“I’m fine, Emmett. I just really need these three out of my club,” I sigh. “I’m at a disadvantage since you know so much about me, boys. That’s no way to make friends, but it’s an excellent way to meet Charlie.”
Maura is back with wide eyes on me and Charlie, my cattle prod.
“I didn’t realize you named it,” Emmett laughs.
“Ya know, since he’s been such a good boy for me, I figured he needed a name.”
“Fuck, you’re sexy,” Kyren mutters, his hurt hand protectively cradled against him but otherwise ignored.
I doubt anything is broken.
“Out,” I say. “Take your friend with you. I don’t want to hear another word out of you all.”
“Yes, mami,” the beta says, hauling the guy on the ground onto his feet. Kyren’s gaze is hungrily on the beta, and I wonder if they’re together.
Maybe if they are, they’ll be less of an issue for me. God, it’s so dumb that I’d feel more comfortable that way, isn’t it? They’re all so very big and tower over me as I stand my ground.
“Don’t you mami me,” I growl. “Get the fuck out.”
“Go to breakfast with us tomorrow, or meet us somewhere we can talk? I’m Isidro, I met your boyfriend yesterday. He was cute,” the beta shrugs.
“Somehow, I think flirting with her man isn’t going to make things better,” Harlan laughs.
I purse my lips, thoroughly unimpressed.
“Come on, out guys,” Emmett says. “Silva doesn’t actually need me to throw you out. She’ll do it in a way that you’ll be burned and bruised for days.”
“Silva?” Isidro asks, brow raised. If he knows who Sy is, then he damn well knows my name too.
I feel as if I’m being played, caught in some weird web not of my own making. I hate being the butt of a joke I don’t understand, and that’s exactly what’s happening.
Fuck, it also serves to remind me that Harlan knew my date of birth. He shouldn’t have known that, not as someone I’ve never met before.
“Come back tomorrow, around two in the afternoon,” I grunt, turning my back on them.
I want them to think that they’re nothing. Taking a deep breath, I freeze. It’s as if the air conditioner blew down on us and cleared the air around me so that I can breathe their scents in.
No. My heart beats so hard, everything falls away. The alphas behind me mean more to me suddenly than they should, and I wonder if they know that. What they are means that I’m trapped, something I told myself would never happen again.
Pushing my legs into motion, I decide to make sure I keep my distance from them tomorrow until I know what they’re about. Just because I’m locked into the scent match to these alphas, doesn’t mean I want them to know.
They’re officially earmarked in the dangerous category. If they’re already this bold, nothing will stop them if they know we’re scent matched.
My movements are almost robotic as I put Charlie away and I make sure Harlan, Kyren, and Isidro vacate the building.
I clean up the mess I left behind, serve customers, reply when spoken to, but there’s no one home inside.
I feel as if I’m drowning with this new information, and I’m not sure what to do.
Should I tell Syrus? I should, right?
I’m breathing heavier than I should be, and pretend it’s because I’m being run off my feet. I have a few hours left, and then I can figure out what to do next.
If the other shoe to drop was a size fifteen with a bad attitude, of course it would fucking find me.