Steve snatches the tablet and taps the screen so it lights up. Then he scoffs and turns it to face Josh. Their drunken laughter is cruel as he drops the tablet onto the table with a crash. They exchange a look, and I tense, uncertain what’s coming, but knowing I won’t like it.
Sure enough, Josh’s hand shoots out and he grips my upper arm, hauling me to my feet.
I hold in an alarmed squeak, then suppress the following whimper of pain as he jerks me up the stairs faster than I cankeep up. His hold is always too tight; he revels in the resulting bruises.
“You think any place would want to employ an omega like you?” A hiccup interrupts Josh’s laughter, and my brother replies from behind us.
“Yeah, right,” he laughs. “I doubt we couldpayanyone to take this failure of an omega off our hands.”
The words aren’t new, but they still burn. A piercing ache that shrivels the part of me that wants to be loved. I keep my eyes on the floor, knowing they hate it when I look directly at them, and then I’m being shoved into my “nest.”
“No!” I stumble and fall onto the mattress floor, a whine trying to climb up my throat. I spin around and scramble to my knees, reaching for the doorway.
“You can spend the night in here,” Josh says, blocking my only escape. “Remind you what you’re good for.”
With that, he slams the door in my face, and the lock clicks from the outside. Their snickering laughter and footsteps fade down the hall as my hand falls, and I sink back down onto my heels, my heart thudding in despair.
I hate it in here.
I normally sleep in my bedroom, a place that is at least comforting if not comfortable. But this “nest” is a nightmare. It’s where I’m forced to go anytime my brother or Josh feel I need more “omega time” to “embrace my instincts.” It’s covered in their scents, which iswrong, wrong, wrong,and the fading scents of other random, unknown alphas permeate the space too.
The only other time I’m in here is during my heats, when Josh invites their friends to come over to help him “tame the omega whore.”
My eyes blur and my mind disconnects from my body as the invasive scents remind me of my last heat. It was all pain with very little relief, as all of them have been. When Josh andhis friends have had their fill, they leave, and he locks me in here alone until he or a friend is ready for more.
An omega needs an alpha’s knot to relieve the intense pain that accompanies a heat. It’s a time of torture, both emotionally and physically, and has led me to begging for heat suppressants multiple times.
Intentionally denying me the relief I need is horrible beyond words, but my brother says it’s what I deserve, and I have no other options.
I slump on my knees in the middle of the sparse room, blinking to try to bring myself back to the present moment. I flinch when a sharp pain stabs my finger, realizing I was picking too hard at a hangnail. I stick the side of my nail in my mouth, sucking on it to stem the bleeding.
I sigh, staring at the stark, white sheets and walls surrounding me. There aren’t even any blankets in here for me to wrap myself up in.
I hope they remember to let me out in the morning so I can go on my daily walk. It’s the best part of my day, and I don’t skip it even in the dead of winter.
Anything to get out of this house and away from them.
At least I have my lamb stuffie. I almost forgot I had tucked it in here, assuming another punishment would be coming soon since it’s been a few days. I pull out the fluffy baby sheep from behind the sole pile of off-white pillows and hug it to my chest. Then I curl up in the corner that carries the least amount of memories, and hope for sleep.
Chapter Two
Brooks
It’s been cloudy all day today, and I was worried it might start raining on me. You never know in Michigan; the weather can turn on a dime. But I have a bit of extra time in my day after finishing the yards in this neighborhood quicker than anticipated, so I decide to knock on a few doors to offer my services.
I don’t love door-knocking, don’t love talking to people at all, really, but it does tend to be successful. Especially when I can provide references from across the street.
As soon as I turn up the driveway to the next house, the sun breaks through the clouds. I eye it skeptically as I step onto the front porch, then knock on the door as I assess the overgrown yard.
Grass that hasn’t been cut since the snow melted, bushes that don’t seem to have ever met a pair of shears, and a tree that is close to threatening the integrity of the roof. If the owners agree, this could be a solid paycheck.
A blond-haired alpha pulls the door open, a wary scowlgreeting me.
“Good afternoon,” I say with a polite nod.
He seems like the type of guy who might slam the door in my face, so I rush to get my words out quickly.
“I’m sorry to bother you, but I work on a few yards in the neighborhood and wanted to drop off a business card, in case you’re ever interested in some landscaping or yard work.”
