Hours disappear, the morning is guided by the number of times I feed the kittens who still don’t have names, and the reports I finish reading. I adjust figures in spreadsheets, and I read security updates that my new team have done. Out of courtesy, and to ensure Lowly stop rocking the boat, I forward it to them and the Verdune team. It’s weird I don’t get an instant response from Ayden, and I realise he’s been strangely silent since the incident in the car.
An alarm on my watch lets me know its decision time. Do I get ready for a two o’clock with Darius or do I maintain my stance of trying to keep my distance. And it is my distance. Because they are the ones, not me, that keep pushing past the walls I put in place.
I know how I handle everything is up to me. I can easily get rid of the kittens. I can pull my bed apart and bring back the old lumpy mattress and scratchy blankets. I cannot show up for a mid-afternoon appointment. But then am I admitting defeat if I do any of that? How in just a short amount of time they changed a part of me?
But the thing is, I’m tired of people thinking I’m an Omega without a voice, or my own aspirations. Decision made, I plonk the kittens into a blanket nest I make for them using the pillows I spent the day lounging on, and after giving them a semi stern talking to along with a couple of dozen kisses, I leave them. And shower to get ready.
The house phone rings at a few minutes before two. A small part of me readies for disappointment that the outing is cancelled, but instead of Darius, it’s my security team at the front desk checking to see if he’s allowed past the gates.
I wait for him to pull up in his Sportage at the bottom of the stairs.
He doesn’t get out, but he does climb over the centre console and sit in the passenger seat. He doesn’t take off the black Ray-bans he’s wearing or stop the gorgeous smirk on his face as he stares out the front windscreen.
I open the driver’s side door. Because two can play this game. Besides, my secret driving lessons have been paying off. Sort of.
“Good morning, little moon, you are looking ravishing as always,” he says, and the way his scent is thicker and spicier than usual, lets me know he means it too.
“Don’t think this is me…”
Darius growls. He cuts me off with a soft growl, “I know you don’t forgive and forget, Heidi. But I’m not going to fucking stop. You’re in pain because of me. I’m spoiling you because you’re you. There is no expectation that you stop hating on me. I actually don’t expect you to be able to spend more than a few hours with me, but I’m not going to not try to win you over either.”
“Fine,” I hiss back. Admittedly feeling a lot lighter inside than I did a few seconds ago.
And then all the lessons I’ve been taking fill my thoughts, instead of the stubborn shit that sits next to me, looking and smelling like one of the most gorgeous devils burnt into existence.
Darius directs me, switching over to pointing after I get my left and right confused a few times. His hand hovers, like he wants to put it on my thigh to calm my jittering mood but eventually we get to where he’s taking me.
An innocuous looking building in an industrial area. Painted a deep indigo purple with vibrant strikes of lightning along with a neon sign blazing down one side of the building—‘Storm’.
“What’s this?” I ask, trying to figure it out.
“Come on, it’s easier to see for yourself than for me to explain,” he says, grabbing a couple of bags from the back.
Darius waits on the sidewalk, casually waving to Ronnie and the rest of my team waiting behind us. And of all things, the way he leaves me to get out of the car by myself has some of the tension inside me letting go. He’s insisting on me being independent. He’s not opening the door for me, he’s not telling me when to get out or if it’s safe or not, he’s letting me make those decisions by myself.
I doubt such basic things, like being made to fend for yourself, would have such a deep impact on other people. But being treated incapable by most other people in my life, each time Darius makes me do something for myself it resonates deep.
He also doesn’t get the door for me; he just flicks his chin up expectantly when we reach it. The bloody door weighs a tonne, and he chuckles when I lose my footing, sliding back under the weight of it a couple of times until I get my puny arms working to open the thick steel door.
The small foyer doesn’t give me many answers either. The man at the front asks if we’ve got a booking for the next session, and Darius steps up to give him the information.
“Okay, so, here’s your change room key. I need you both to shower before you enter the wet room. And then sit back and enjoy.”
I look to Darius, hoping he’s going to shed some light on the mystery, but he’s busy smiling like a dick.
“Heidi, hurry up,” Darius says quietly. His voice always gives me the shivers but today it’s making me extra shivery. Or it’s my Omega being dramatic; she’s so on board with anything he throws at us.
He hands over the key, our fingers touch and I feel like I’ve been zapped by static making me yip and pull away. But he doesn’t let me retreat, his hand covers mine and he uses it to pull me closer.
“I’ll wait here while you change. When you’re in the shower I’ll get ready. Okay?”
And despite the way he’s looking and scenting, talking, and acting which is really flipping obviously interested, he keeps returning the power back to me.
“Not sure what I’m agreeing to, but okay.”
Unlocking the door, I walk into a change room like you’d expect at a community pool, or a gym. Stark white tiles are on the walls from the floor to the ceiling, with smaller grey and white mosaic tiles on the floor. A timber looking bench seat runs along one wall, and there’s towel rails hanging.
“Darius, I don’t have a swimsuit,” I fling open the door to tell him. Pretty much talking against his lips because he’s already down low, like he’s waiting for me.
