I get out and wince as my bare feet hit the asphalt. As a kid, I used to run barefoot everywhere without a care. But I’m almost thirty now, and my feet have gone soft since I got out on my own at eighteen. I’ve pampered myself, and it shows.
I just have to toughen up. Even as I think that, I flinch at every little sound. I’ve never felt so raw or vulnerable in my life.I fought so hard to avoid hardship in my teens. With the life my father forced on me, I should have seen worse already. But somehow, by the grace of the gods, I managed to stay out of trouble. Until now.
My father yanked me back in and handed me over to Sergio and his men, all because he couldn’t manage his own mess.
I pick up the pace. It’ll take over an hour to reach town if I don’t move faster. My feet be damned. I’ll heal later.
As I reach the end of the neighborhood, I head up the walkways to the doors and start knocking. It doesn’t look like a bad area. The lawns are manicured, and there aren’t any cars on bricks, so I figure I have a better chance of finding someone willing to let me use their phone.
No one answers.
I guess I wouldn’t either, hearing hurried knocking this late in the evening. I make my way down the street, trying both sides. Still, no one comes to the door. Tears gather in my eyes, but I try to hold it together. I thought it would be easy to get help.
Did I find a ghost town? Is that why I’ve never heard of Willowside, even though it can’t be far from Pueblo?
I try the next street over, but if anyone’s home, no one is answering. Then I spot lights in the distance, the glow of what looks like a business parking lot. Maybe I’ll have better luck there. Businesses have phones, and they can’t pretend not to be home.
My legs burn, and my feet feel like they’re about to fall off as the icy concrete numbs my soles. Still, I push forward. At the endof the block, I find what looks like a restaurant or bar. The lights are on. They’re still open. It’s not too late.
Barely checking for traffic, I dart across the street and head for the door. I wrench it open and step inside. A small group of people stand near the entrance, and behind the bar is a man with salt-and-pepper hair pulled back in a tie. The scent of smoky marshmallow hits me.
There are multiple Alphas in the room, but they all feel bonded. I can’t pick up any of their scents, except the marshmallow. It must be leftover from a celebration. There are pink and blue balloons still hovering near the ceiling.
“My car broke down. About a mile back. Can I use your phone?” The words tumble out before I can think. I don’t want them to turn me away. Mentioning a car might help make it seem like I’m not just some random girl showing up out of nowhere.
A woman with bonding marks on her neck steps forward, a gentle smile on her lips.
My legs hesitate. I don’t know her. I don’t knowanyof them. What if this is another trap? Another group who’ll smile while planning how to use me?
But then she squeezes my shoulder, just once. It’s not possessive or demanding.
My feet move before I can stop them.
She wraps a comforting arm around my shoulders and steers me toward a booth near the center of the room. “Come sit down. Can I get you something? Some water maybe?”
My feet throb and my legs shake. My body finally realizes it can stop moving. I nod, and the tears fall freely now. I don’t think I could stop them if I tried. “Yes, please.”
A woman with big, curly blonde hair hurries behind the bar. A moment later, she returns with a glass of water.
My fingers tremble as I pick it up and take a sip. I know I should gulp it down, but I can’t bring myself to do it. I lower the glass and stare down at the table.
The pads of my feet throb beneath the booth. My knees still shake, and the ache in my neck pulses with every breath.
“I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to do.” Now that someone’s given me permission to pause, my brain doesn’t seem to know how to function.
The bonded Omega places her hand on my shoulder. “It’s okay. You’re safe now. We’ll figure something out.”
She hums for a second, then studies my face. “Did some Alphas take advantage of you?”
I look up at her and nod. “My father sold me to them. We weren’t compatible.” The words spill out. I shouldn’t be sharing details, but something about her and her pack makes me feel safe.
The man behind the bar approaches. The smoky marshmallow scent intensifies. His build marks him clearly as an alpha, but I don’t feel afraid. He seems bonded, yet something in his scent calls to me.
He crouches in front of me, making himself appear smaller. His voice is calm and certain. “Don’t you worry about a thing, miss. I’ll make sure you’re safe here. No one’s going to lay a hand on you in my bar.” He glances at the others, his tone turning firm. “You guys should head home, just in case things get messy.”
The bonded Omega crosses her arms. “We can’t leave her here alone.”
One of her Alphas steps in and places a hand on her back. “She has Jethro and Tracy here. I know neither will hurt her or let her get hurt again.” He gently tugs her toward the door. “But we need to keep you and the baby safe.”
