And definitely not enough to tide me over until I can get another job.
The back of my eyes burn as I tip my head up to the ceiling, taking a deep breath.
No falling apart now, Gabby. It’s just another tiny hurdle. Nothing you haven’t done before.
But… I’m sotired.
And losing my job and my apartment in one day… I’m entitled to be a little upset.
Blowing out a breath, I take a minute before getting up, ducking into my tiny little living space.
There’s not much here, even after two years. The carpet squishes slightly under my feet, courtesy of a few too many leaks from the apartment above. Joe’s not the best at maintenance. Or repairs. Or anything, really.
I’ll be better off out of here.
The thought feels hollow as I sink into the brown faded armchair that’s been patched up one too many times, staring blankly out the window at the street below.
People walk past with purpose, everyone heading somewhere. I watch as one couple strolls along, the beta male saying something that makes the female throw her head back in laughter as their linked hands swing between them.
A lump appears in my throat. I can’t remember the last time someone touched me like that.
Maybe never.
God. What I wouldn’t give to feel a human touch that doesn’t want to grab me, hurt me or fuck me. Most of the ones I’ve known wanted all three, and they didn’t care in which order.
My throat aches as I heat up a tiny can of soup for dinner, shoving the meager cash I have left back into my apron. Pouring half into a bowl, I cover the rest for later.
I’m a master at making food last as long as possible.
The pathetic portion disappears too quickly. Taking my empty bowl to the sink, I run my fingers over the cheap plastic, sucking up every bit of juice I can find.
After the quickest shower in history, I sit on my futon, clutching the towel around me and shivering as I try to think of a plan. Any plan.
I need cash. Funds for Joe, if he’ll take them. If not, then I’ll need more, for a deposit, hopefully somewhere furnished.
I need a new job. One where the boss doesn’t see me as his own personal fuck-toy.
Decision made, I jump up and throw on my tidiest outfit before sliding on my sneakers. Glancing in the mirror, I ignore the bags under my eyes and tidy my wet hair as best I can, pulling the dark strands back into a braid.
The door slams behind me.
ChapterTwo
Gabrielle
My feet are killing me.
I’ve dropped into every single diner, bar and possible job opportunity on this side of town.
And the response has been the same every single time.
“No vacancies.”
The older, matronly beta who curled her lip at me. The younger, pretty beta with the mean eyes and the tossed hair. The exhausted looking bartender with a ‘help wanted’ sign who told me in no uncertain terms to fuck off out of his bar, bleary-eyed men jeering as I backed out rapidly.
Nobody wants to hire an omega.
It’s asking for trouble.
