Thank god for the bathrooms with shower stalls at the gym I was able to use with the twenty dollar membership I was able to buy, or my hygiene would have been real trouble.
I was lucky enough to still have my wallet with cash, but couldn’t escape with my car. Sleeping in my car would have probably made things easier.
Instead, I always felt overwhelmed with the need to stay guarded of anyone who could walk up to me. Between men looking to trap women to sell at the auction houses to those simply looking for a “wild time”, I couldn’t get any peace.
Once you were away from the downtown tourist areas, the sounds of strangled screams and crying was more prevalent as men hunted their prey. Living under Renzo’s roof only prepared me because I always carry a knife, however I’m just a rich girl with very little street smarts.
Place me in a dress and a party, and I can work my way through it with a fake smile on my lips and barbs falling off my tongue. I speak fluent debutante, but I am not physically scrappy.
It’s horrific that the city I love so much isn’t safe for such a vulnerable population. The news insists that the South doesn’t have a problem with the thugs who comb the streets for the auction stalls, but I know from experience that’s not true.
I had to run from three men one night, and now my dreams ring with the sounds of boots on the ground, the clang of wire metal cages when they caught someone else instead, and the guilt that I was powerless to stop it. I hid in a dumpster to hidemy scent until I knew they were gone, and hated the relief I felt afterward.
Savannah’s mayor promised to clean up the city of the homeless population, which simply means the police arrest them and then decide who they’re making a profit from, and who is getting a night in prison. It makes those without homes for any length of time less safe because Mayor Aletto decided to clean up the streets.
“I’m a person, not garbage,” I mutter to myself, feeling the first drops of rain hit my skin. I changed into a tank top for bed and a pair of sleep shorts, not expecting to take a side quest outside.
Freedom shouldn’t be riddled with constantly looking over your shoulder. The second I snuck over to the church to watch Rosa get married from afar, is when I managed to lose mine.
I doubt I’ll ever tell this to anyone, because it doesn’t sound all that terrifying in the face of what others deal with. However, almost getting picked up by sex traffickers is a pretty big deal for me.
“Do you make a habit of talking to yourself?”
Jumping, I scream as I turn around, my thumb already moving to open the blade and point it with a trembling hand in the direction of the person speaking.
Ciro holds his hands up as he walks down the stairs, a bottle of whiskey and glasses in his hands.
“I usually keep these around for my brother since he’s usually the one pacing late at night.”
“Must be his conscience arguing with him,” I rasp.
“What’s your excuse?” Ciro asks easily, not falling for the trap of my words. “Are you also someone who is wrestling with their conscience? What terrible things have you done?”
“The only terrible things I’ve done have been the ones I haven’t done due to cowardice and incompetence.”
My head tips up as rain continues to drop from the sky, and Ciro stands across from me, stunned by my words.
“You don’t seem like someone who is scared, Verona.”
“Everything scares me,” I retort, blinking as the raindrops cling to my lashes. My hand drops helplessly by my side, closing the switchblade again and shoving it in my pocket. The rain is cool, chasing off how overheated my skin felt earlier. “How does the alpha who is good at nothing but playing pointless politics help her omega when the stakes are so high?”
“By aligning herself with a pack who thinks nothing of snapping necks and setting fire to the refuse. We would rather fix things with fancy words and alliances, but that doesn’t always work. Drink?”
“Why not,” I sigh, glancing at him. Opening the bottle with a flick of his finger, he fills both glasses before handing me one. “What does a pack have to gain with an alliance with a weak alpha?”
Ciro waits until I take the glass and sip from it before he shrugs and drinks as well. Maybe I’ll be able to help the pain in my side with the numbness alcohol will bring. It’s worth a shot.
“For starters, you could agree to stop running from my stepbrother and hurting his feelings. My family means everything to me. Personally, I’m surprised I’m out here and not Dario, but he’s currently wrapped around Pablo’s body because he’s annoyed with you. It takes a lot to frustrate the fixer in my family.”
“I’m not someone to be ‘handled’ or fixed,” I scoff, my feet beginning to walk in the backyard. The whiskey settles warm and hot in my veins, sparking my ire. “I planned to live alone for the rest of my life after Rosa got married. The bond was a selfish moment I gave into to tie her to me so I’d always know how she was. I’m attracted to her and no one else. It’s alwaysbeen like this. How can a scent match just waltz in and confuse everything?”
“Because he’s adorable,” Ciro laughs. “Pablo is typically in a good mood, smart as fuck, and genuinely wants to be helpful unless he’s in a petty mood. He’s also very sensitive. I’ve been holding him at arm’s length since he first moved into our home and our father married his mother. Being scent matched washes all the bullshit away, Verona.”
The heavens fully open up after his statement and thunder roars. Tossing back the rest of the whiskey, I throw caution to the wind.
“What else do you want?” I ask. Men always want something more.
“Whether you mean to or not, your opinions matter to Rosalia. Throw us a bone.”
