Chapter 4
Chapter
Four
One week later
MARIE
The job market here is seriously tough.
“Marie, it’s Tommy. Answer your fucking phone,” he says in my voice message, making me shake my head at my phone.
“In another life maybe,” I sigh. I just need to get my shit together first. I refuse to be a problem for him.
He has a life, a pack, and a mother-in-law-to-be living with him. Tommy doesn’t need my shit too.
Looking around the room I’m living in currently, I’m grateful that I’m not living in a campground instead.
My car is still in the shop because those assholes did some major damage that’ll affect my ability to drive it.
Thankfully, I did fill out a police report in the back of the cruiser while I was waiting for the tow truck, and my car insurance is paying for a portion of the damages.
I’ve already been to visit the car once, and it’s cleared out most of my cash.
While I was at the mechanic, Henry told me about Omega’s Haven, a shelter for omegas.
They’ve been so kind here, and I told myself that I’d give myself a week before I asked for help in my job search.
They even helped me get a new drivers license with little fuss.
I appreciate every single thing they’ve done for me.
No one has gotten back to me about my resume, despite the extensive work experience that I have. To add insult to injury, the hospital in Chicago is refusing to pay my last paycheck and officially put a stop to my unemployment benefits.
I feel defeated. The woman at the unemployment office says that several people heard me say that I quit. So that’s that. I need a job.
Pocketing my phone in my jeans, I walk out of my room and close my door. While my insurance is paying for a portion of the car repair, I still have to pay my monthly premium in a few weeks. My window is getting smaller with every breath.
Smiling at a couple of kids that I see playing, I make my way out of the shelter and up front to the outreach portion of the building. There are so many different people from all walks of life here.
I hate having to use these services because I feel like I’m taking a bed that could go to someone that needs it more. I don’t feel like I’m worthy of this.
When you’re so used to paying and sustaining your life on your own, it’s difficult to accept assistance when life blindsides you. Aisling, one of the founders of Omega’s Haven, is in her office as I walk silently through the outreach center. It’s fairly quiet for now, but that could change.
I recently learned that Aisling has ties to the mafia through her father, so I’m concerned that she’ll be forced to tell my brother that I’m here. She’s told me over and over that she wouldn’t, but my trust is tattered.
“Hey, do you have a second for me?” I ask quietly.
I immediately asked for heat blockers when I got here. I know being scent matched can cause them to not work correctly since biology has a way of occasionally overriding medication. As a nurse I’ve seen it happen too often. It’s unfortunately a chance I have to take.
My other concern is that I can’t even use a heat clinic since I’ll only want my scent matches: alphas who left me without a second glance.
I don’t feel right anymore, and I’m constantly on edge.
I wish I could tell them to fuck off, because I never asked for this.
My anxiety is showing up in a way I’ve never experienced before and I hate it.
Would it be so terrible to be numb?
“Of course,” she says, leaning forward on her desk. “Come in. Is this about your job search?”
“It is,” I sigh, shuffling in to sit on one of the chairs. “I’m worried the doctor who fired me in Chicago has a longer reach than I thought.”
“While that’s possible, there have to be hospitals that will overlook him,” she explains. “I just saw a teaching hospital looking for nurses online. They’re understaffed.”
“Most hospitals are understaffed,” I say quickly. “I’m not picky right now. I’ll gladly jump in to help.”
Aisling’s lips twitch as she turns toward her computer.
“You don’t have to take the first thing I offer you,” she says.
“Ugh, I really do,” I groan. “My brother is going to hunt me down at some point and Minneapolis already feels as if it’s too small.”
“Wren is coming in to work soon. She typically works from home, but there are some things I need her here for,” she explains. “She doesn’t go anywhere without her alphas. They have to wait outside, but I wanted to make sure you knew.”
“See? I feel like I’m living in a fishbowl,” I grumble.
Jasper is Wren’s long lost brother, and I’ve known him for years. I’ve even patched him up a few times when he’s gotten hurt working for my brother. Since he moved here to be with Cerenity, I feel as if I’m exchanging one chain for another.
That may seem a little dramatic, but I’ve been enjoying the physical distance between my brother and his new pack. That doesn’t mean they haven’t visited, but they always leave again.
I won’t have that benefit in Minneapolis.
“I don’t have siblings, but I recognize this behavior from Wren. I call it ‘little sister syndrome,’”Aisling says sagely.
“Does she have a brother that bullies her too?” I grumble.
“Jasper tries, but it doesn’t really work,” she chuckles.
“I’ve been on that end of things with Jasper,” I say with a nod. “Jasper and Tommy tend to feed off of each other’s energies. Cerenity is good for them.”
“You’re hiding from them,” she says, glancing at me. “I don't know why it took me so long to process that. Do they hurt you? I swear to god, I will have someone kill them and make it look like an accident.”
Hiding a smile, I try to figure out how to explain the very complicated relationship I have with my brother.
“Tommy is really heavy handed. When he forced me to take care of Cerenity when he kidnapped her, he strangled and yelled at me when I pushed back about it,” I explain. “I’m just a rag doll for him to boss around. So yes, I’m avoiding him like the plague.”
“That’s awful,” Aisling says, her eyes solemn. “Tommy needs to learn to use his words. You’re not his employee or underling.”
“Well, he certainly enjoyed treating me like an unpaid one while he lived in Chicago,” I mutter. “I’m avoiding his calls at the moment. It doesn’t help that I’m feeling really defeated.”
“Why?” she asks.
“Standing up for myself did absolutely nothing,” I say. “Dr. Gallagher is still practicing medicine and prescribing the wrong medication to patients. There’s one less person standing between him and killing someone.”
“You can’t do that to yourself,” she says.
Her hands tighten into fists before she relaxes them.
It appears that I’m not the only one who struggles with her feelings.
“Standing up for yourself and your patients is important. Living small, refusing to help others means you’re like everyone else. Don’t make yourself smaller to fit in.”
My lips turn up into a watery smile as I nod. I have a feeling she might know what that feels like. Why else would she create a place like this for omegas?
“Tell me what I need to do for this job application,” I say, not wanting to cry.
Aisling moves away from the conversation without a word, as if she understands that sometimes things feel too big to deal with.
Half an hour later, my application is in, she’s called the head of human resources to let her know that there’s a new application.
My face burned with embarrassment as Aisling also explained that I was a hard worker with a ton of experience.
Not once did she break my confidence either by explaining where she was calling from. Instead, it was her way of giving a reference based on hearing me talk about how much I care about my patients.
“Really?” she asks in surprise, making my brow raise in question as well. She’s not on speakerphone, so I’m only getting one side of the conversation. “You’re amazing. I’ll let her know. Thanks so much.”
Aisling says her goodbyes before she’s hands up, grinning at me.
“I didn’t think that was going to work,” she whispers in awe. “You have an interview at eight tomorrow morning.”
Wow, they must really need nurses. That thought doesn’t keep me from grinning back at her, jumping up and down in excitement.
“Yes!” I squeal. “That was amazing. Thank you so much.”
“I just nudged,” Aisling says. “You’re going to do all the heavy lifting when you go to the interview.”
My mind tries to remember if I have any interview appropriate clothing since most of my boxes are with my car, but I come up empty.
“Use the closet in the shelter,” Aisling says, smirking. “I swear, you’re the worst at accepting things that are already yours. You don’t even have to ask, that’s why we have them set up.”
“I really am,” I mumble, standing. “I’ll go check it out. I’m sure I’ll find something.”
I’m on the shorter side, so pants might be out. I can probably find a nice dress to wear though.
I almost run into someone at the door as I run though hypothetical options and start. My gaze flies up to see that I’m standing in front of Jasper’s sister and I awkwardly smile apologetically. She’s never met me before, but I can see the similarities between them.
“Sorry, Wren,” I murmur, trying to move around her.
“How do you know who I am?” she asks, turning as she watches me.
“I know Jasper,” I say with a small shrug.
“He’s not supposed to know she’s here, Wren,” Aisling says, following me.
“I wouldn’t mention it either way,” Wren says. “If he’s giving you a hard time, I’m sure Shaw would enjoy beating him up for giggles.”
I remember the name because that’s where Aisling said she got my heat suppressants. It makes sense that this is how she knows Shaw.
“It’s complicated,” I mumble. “Jasper and my brother are difficult. They’ve been running together for years, and enjoying being the thorns in my side. I’m hiding from them. I don’t want to hear their bullshit about how I chose the worst time to stick up for myself.”
“Jasper is a hot head and can hardly talk,” Wren says, rolling her eyes. “He likes to get his own way. Hide as long as you’d like. The offer is still on the table to have Jasper beaten for shits and giggles.”
She’s not at all like what I thought she’d be.
“Thanks,” I chuckle. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Waving goodbye, I walk back to the shelter area and open the closet that’s filled with interview clothing. Inside, I find a long sleeved deep navy blue dress that’ll look nice against my red hair. Pulling it from the closet, I also find a pair of pumps that’ll work with it.
“That’s really cute together,” Megan says, getting my attention as I turn.
Her son is on her hip, watching with the intelligence of a child older than two and a half.
“Thanks, I have an interview tomorrow,” I say. “I want to make sure I nail it.”
“I bet you will,” she says. “I have a really good feeling. Ready for your snack, Benji?”
“Mmm. Yes, Mama,” he says enthusiastically, making me grin.
God, I love kids. I don’t get to hang out with them often, but seeing Benji around makes me realize how much I love them. Every experience is new and exciting, everything is an opportunity and adventure to learn.
Pushing away the yearning in my heart, I struggle not to let my smile wobble as I close the closet door.
“Enjoy,” I murmur, walking back to my room. Breathing gets harder and harder, even after I shut the door behind me.
Tossing the dress and shoes onto the bed, I slide down the door until I’m sitting on my ass. I’m not as sore anymore, but certain movements make me remember what happened to me. Instead of feeling angry, it makes me sad.
Did none of them realize what they were doing to their scent match?
I still can’t pull apart the different scents to attach them to the alpha it belongs to, no matter how much I try. It’s something my mind enjoys torturing me with ad nauseum. Dropping my head back onto the door with a thud, I struggle to control my breathing.
Instead of relaxing to accept oxygen, my lungs seem to tighten up until I’m wheezing.
Why does no one want me?
A tear slides down my cheek as I think about how I’m going to continue to be alpha and childless. I need to figure out how to be comfortable with that, because I don’t see it changing any time soon. As soon as I let Tommy back in, he’ll be his usual intimidating self and scare everyone away.
The only interaction with people that I really get is at work. Maybe I need a cat or something? Fuck, can I even be responsible for a living thing?
“Stop it, Marie,” I growl in annoyance with myself.
It won’t stop, and I find myself shivering and crying through a panic attack.
I suppose, it’s to be expected for me to lose my shit.
With everything that’s been happening, I’ve been forcing myself to bear it and continue moving.
Losing my job, my apartment, moving, and being attacked by bikers has a way of fucking with a girl.
Gasping for air, my eyes feel puffy and hurt as the tears begin to dry up. Slower than it feels possible, my lungs begin to relax, allowing me to gulp in breaths. I’m going to need to raid the makeup cabinet, because I am going to need to handle the hollowness under my eyes.
Locking the door, I crawl to the bed and force myself onto it after moving the dress and shoes. I need a time out. Just a nap to allow myself to reset. Putting my phone on the nightstand, I turn out the twinkle lights I set up in here so I won’t have to use a real light and close my eyes.
I just need the world to stop hurting me, just for a little while.