“Yeah, that would be great,” Kevin says, handing me back the phone.
Hitting save, I pocket it and open the door. Glancing out into the hallway, I step outside.
“Then I’ll call you soon,” I say.
As he approaches me, I grab him behind the neck and pull him into one last kiss. Kevin’s hands are fisting my shirt by the time I let him go.
“I’m so fucked,” he whispers.
“You are,” I agree, watching as he walks on unsteady legs away from me.
I have to force myself to keep from racing after him, and find the restroom to clean up before presenting myself to the world as the calm and collected mafia man.
Chapter
Four
Two months later
KEVIN
“Hollis, I don’t know,”I sigh, rubbing my face as I sit on the bench of my home gym. I don’t mind that she interrupted my workout, as this is a conversation we have to have. I called her yesterday to leave a message, and she’s returning my call today. “I don’t think dating is something I’m good at.”
I know why but my headspace is wrecked. There’s an alpha that I can’t keep out of my mind, but I’m too chicken shit to answer his calls. God, I’ve never so willingly dropped to my knees for anyone else before. I acted like a cat in heat, yet I refuse to act repentant for it. While my actions were not how I typically act, I don’t regret it.
Do I want a repeat performance with him? Yes. However, every time I think about it, I end up fucking my hand, and remind myself that it’s safer than answering his calls. So no, I haven’t spoken to Mr. Sullivan again.
Instead, I have his calls being forwarded to an online number with a different voicemail. I haven’t listened to a single one of his messages, which continues to fuel my anxiety. It feels as if I’m poking the bear.
I have zero social life outside of a couple of friends, which means it’s easy to hide in Minneapolis.
Because that’s what I’m doing. Hiding.
I don’t even know the man’s name outside of it being Mr. Sullivan. I didn’t think to ask for it, and I screamed ‘Alpha’ when he made me come over and over. I’ve never had sex like that before. Usually, I’m someone who insists on things happening in a certain way. I am the kind of omega who fucks in a hotel after a night at a club, and then moves on without a thought.
Mr. Sullivan lives rent free in my mind, and I don’t have the heart or interest to fuck him out of it. He may have saved me, but there’s also no doubt in my mind that he punished Ryan Hill for attempting to extort money from me.
The slimy beta could even be dead for all I know, since I haven’t heard from the asshole that my brother lost all his money to. God, why is this my life?
I’m overthinking everything, wondering if I’m doing the right thing, and now I’m ending services with Hollis Edwards. I called her six months ago about looking into finding a pack I could spend my heats with. Unfortunately, not only haven’t I found a good fit, I don’t think it’s a good idea to string anyone along while I’m all tangled up in thoughts of Mr. Sullivan.
Swallowing hard, I wonder if I should ask Hollis about him before choking back the words. If she knows him, then her loyalties will lie with him. I don’t want to make things uncomfortable or have it become known that I’m asking questions.
I lead a very quiet life, and I don’t know that it’ll remain that way if I become involved with Mr. Sullivan. What I do know isthat I’mhis, and it’ll be unfair for me to continue to date anyone else.
My issue is that I’m unsure I can handle the danger in his life. I cut off my brother because I decided that pulling him from the gutter every time he called me was doing more damage than good. I no longer have any contact with him because it was breaking my heart to hear how far gone he was.
If he’s ever willing to seriously get help, then I’ll be here to help. Until then? I have my own life to fuck up.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Hollis says smoothly. I can just imagine her leaning over her desk as she talks. She has an easy way of talking to you, even when I know she’s just doing her job by checking in with me. “What’s your back up plan for your heats, Kevin? Is that something I can ask?”
I’m allergic to suppressants, so none of those are a possibility. The hormones in them fuck me up. Instead, I’m going to have to go through my heats the old fashioned way.
“I’m researching heat clinics at the moment,” I confess. “I just don’t know which one to choose.”
“I have a suggestion,” she says. “There’s a new heat spa that’s run by friends of mine. They’re not for profit, they vet everyone who comes through their doors, and insist on a full medical work up beforehand so everyone is safe. It’s completely free as well.”
“I can pay,” I hedge. I create and sell computer, phone, and tablet application software, which was what Ryan Hill was attempting to steal from me. I make a very decent living doing something I’m passionate about, but it also means that I have to hide the more sensitive parts of my work from others.
