Despite how much I’d love to, I’m not about to shoot the bitch. For starters, I don’t have a gun, but by god, I visualize it in detail—the blow out of her brain would arc impressively. The Alpha behind her doesn’t pay me a lick of his attention as heguides her with a small press of his hand out into the aisle and off the plane.
A slightly older couple shuffle up next. The man is clearly an Alpha, too, but where the other was cold, this man is overflowing with generosity. As is his Omega.
He comes closer. “You can wait with us while the luggage comes, and then we will walk with you to where you need to, in case she decides to come back for round two.”
In a handful of words, they change the start to my morning and reconfirm my hope for humanity.
This Omega is a silver-haired love child, dressed in flowing floral, and she puts me instantly at ease. “And you won’t say no. I’m Jana, by the way, and this is Tomas.”
“Layne,” I offer with a genuine smile.
3
“Tomas, be a yummy bear and grab us some food. Layne and I can handle our bags, right?” Jana asks me. Tomas gives her a long look before his eyes jump to me.
He’s careful to keep his attention moving, so I don’t misread the intentions of his designation. “Anything you don’t like to eat?”
“I’m allergic to seafood and shellfish,” I say as Jana guides us away, back to the luggage carousel.
“Get me some pineapple juice, too, please, babe,” Jana calls out, blowing him a kiss and, in doing so, almost drowning me in her unique patchouli scent, which is so potent that it cuts through the blockers I’m using.
I get the sense that Jana is one of those people who always gets her own way. But she does it with an energy that makes you feel like you want to make her smile. When she swings her attention back to me, I don’t mind the waiting interrogation I find in her vibrant green eyes.
“Right, woman to woman, Omega to Omega, or just me to you…what in the cosmos happened to you, gorgeous?”
I shake my head, trying to stop from dissolving into a puddle of tears at her compassion. And the emotion pouring off her isn’t pity, like what I felt with Hill and Gypsy. Probably because I can see the harsh reality of trauma in her eyes, so it feels like we’re sharing.
“A casual dating scenario turned into a nightmare. He didn’t like that I was breaking things off with him, and then he obviously believed I needed to find out what an asshole he really is,” I confess. Before I can get another word out, I’m lost in her arms as she squeezes the crap out of me.
“I’m so sorry. What can we do to help?” She lays her head against mine and ignores the world around us. Her support feels so genuine, it’s like getting a cuddle from one of your oldest, truest friends.
“Any chance you know where I can get a job?” I ask, hopeful.
Landing a paying job is a priority, considering I’m living off Gypsy’s and Hill’s generosity, and I doubt they have a lot to give. Finding somewhere to live will be next on my list.
Jana’s head pops up, and there’s a twinkle of trouble, or maybe it’s excitement, in her eyes. “Can you waitress?”
I roll my eyes, teasing her. “Can I waitress? Puh-lease…” I sass gently before I answer her seriously. “My last job was at a café, where I opened or closed. Before that, I worked at a diner, so yes, I can waitress.”
“Good. You start tonight.”
“What? Where?” I laugh, relief and hope giving me a burst of energy.
Jana throws her hand up dramatically, “At my restaurant, of course. Wait, are you one of those vegan or vegetarian types?”
I shake my head as an answer, and she pretends to huff out a big, loud exhale in relief. “Phew. That would make it pretty difficult for you, because I run Styke. Best steak and wine bar in the city. We were visiting one of our meat suppliers, which iswhy we were on the red eye. I can guarantee, if I was on vacation, there is no way I’d be up at this ungodly hour.”
I laugh right along with her, because her happy vibes are catchy. “You don’t need to give me a job.”
“Yeah, I do. Look at it this way—this is mypay it forward. When the time is right, you do everything in your power to help someone and keep the gratitude circle going. Besides, don’t thank me yet. I’m a sweetly spoken asshole. Apparently.” She smiles just as the alarm for the carousel starts.
Jana lets her arms fall away, and we stand there, shoulder to shoulder, watching the bags start. “I can’t work looking like this.”
“Never said you were working the floor.” She pops her hip into mine. “Part of your pay includes a room. Nothing flashy, but the restaurant has a small studio, and you can stay in it until you get your feet under you. Let’s not waste time arguing.”
I gape like a fish, completely shocked and eternally grateful. I’m powerless to do anything but burst into ugly tears. She sweeps me into another hug. I’m sure, if my head wasn’t fried by the medication I’ve been taking almost hourly, she’d smell as good as she hugs.
“You need to cry? You cry. We can go to a rage room, if we need to. Seriously, Layne, repressing your trauma for the sake of making others feel comfortable is something we’ve done for too long as a society.”
