Page 3
Story: Cost of Courting
“I thought you weren’t coming in tonight?” Kent says when I move behind the bar, pulling off my leather jacket.
“No, you told me I shouldn’t. It was a suggestion, not an order, and you know you need my help tonight.”
“You’ve worked ten days straight, Selene. You need to take a day off,” he grumbles and pours another beer, smiling to a regular.
“Tomorrow, then,” I say and smile at an old timer as I pass him a beer. “It’s a slow night, so I’ll take a break tomorrow.”
He presses his lips into a line, but what can he do? He knows he needs me. The crowd is thick and thirsty. I focus all my attention on serving drinks and taking money. The hours pass quickly, and, before I know it, the bar is calming down, the crowds thinning, and I can go and start collecting glasses off tables.
I stretch as I’m walking, my mind going over all the things I need to do when I get home. Some days, the jobs seem endless. Clean the floors, do the washing, fix the heater, mend the curtains in Luna’s room, go shopping, cook, weed the dirt- ah, who am I kidding, I’m not weeding the dirt.
I collect the glasses and bring them to the bar, where Kent takes them from me. A regular leans into me and says something in a drunken slur. I laugh, slap him on the back, and dart past him before he can accost me further. I pause, the hairs on the back of my neck lifting. Something is off. I can smell apple pie, and it slams into me, making me hungry but not for food. What is that?
It takes me another scan to find the person watching me from the shadows. I can barely make him out, only that he’s got an aura of such deadly presence it has me pausing, wondering about him, and that’s never a good thing to do with strangers.
I approach his table, refusing to be cowed by the steady gaze. As the shadows peel back, revealing him, I’m able to discern a strong jaw, dark hair that hangs over his left eye, and he is unmistakably an alpha.
I take the empty glass with a casual smile that I offer to all customers. He doesn’t say anything, just watches me, and when I walk back to the bar, I feel his eyes on me the whole time.
For the next couple of hours, all I focus on is him. It’s a flirtation that neither of us acknowledges. It’s a sexual tension that even the drunks can feel.
This alpha wants me, and, for the first time in years, I’ve seen someone I want.
I don’t know whether to go sit on his lap or run for the hills.
It’s late when Ileave the pub, locking the door behind me. The carpark should be empty, but it’s not. There’s a car waiting for me. I smile as I walk towards it.
Looks like he got my message.
The audacity of this piece of shit. I shake my head, unable to stop my wide smile. When I get to the car, he slides out, leaning on the door like the tricked up, lowered sports car is something special.
The guy is around my age with blond hair and good looks. His brown eyes sparkle when he flirts with all the betas. He’s got charisma, charm, and the gift of the gab. He’s a recent recruit for the Cobras, who are a local gang that decided they owned this territory. Horace or Ace, as he likes to be called, has done one deal too many. I slide a hand down my side and put it on my hip, cocking it and making myself look as cute as I possibly can.
It won’t be hard. Beta’s like this guy think I could only possibly want one thing.
I don’t.
He reaches for me, only to have the flat of my palm punch into his face.
“What have I told you about touching me?” I ask with a smile.
“FUCK!” He howls, holding his bloody nose. I watch the drips scatter on the car park ground.
I fold my arms under my breasts and snigger in amusement.
“Oh, don’t be such a baby. It was just a little tap. We have a do not touch arrangement. Have you forgotten?”
“Fuck you, you fucking beta bitch!”
The fact that he, like so many other people, is under the misapprehension that I’m a beta is not something I choose to correct. It’s just another weapon in my arsenal.
He lunges for me, but I’ve been expecting it, and I kick his kneecap hard enough that he hits the asphalt hard. He tilts his head back and howls.
My amusement fades.
I grab his hair and yank his head back, shoving the tip of my knife into the soft skin right where his pulse is thundering.
“Listen to me very carefully, Ace. You’re going to fuck off and stop selling drugs in my neighbourhood, especially to my sister, you hear me?”
“No, you told me I shouldn’t. It was a suggestion, not an order, and you know you need my help tonight.”
“You’ve worked ten days straight, Selene. You need to take a day off,” he grumbles and pours another beer, smiling to a regular.
“Tomorrow, then,” I say and smile at an old timer as I pass him a beer. “It’s a slow night, so I’ll take a break tomorrow.”
He presses his lips into a line, but what can he do? He knows he needs me. The crowd is thick and thirsty. I focus all my attention on serving drinks and taking money. The hours pass quickly, and, before I know it, the bar is calming down, the crowds thinning, and I can go and start collecting glasses off tables.
I stretch as I’m walking, my mind going over all the things I need to do when I get home. Some days, the jobs seem endless. Clean the floors, do the washing, fix the heater, mend the curtains in Luna’s room, go shopping, cook, weed the dirt- ah, who am I kidding, I’m not weeding the dirt.
I collect the glasses and bring them to the bar, where Kent takes them from me. A regular leans into me and says something in a drunken slur. I laugh, slap him on the back, and dart past him before he can accost me further. I pause, the hairs on the back of my neck lifting. Something is off. I can smell apple pie, and it slams into me, making me hungry but not for food. What is that?
It takes me another scan to find the person watching me from the shadows. I can barely make him out, only that he’s got an aura of such deadly presence it has me pausing, wondering about him, and that’s never a good thing to do with strangers.
I approach his table, refusing to be cowed by the steady gaze. As the shadows peel back, revealing him, I’m able to discern a strong jaw, dark hair that hangs over his left eye, and he is unmistakably an alpha.
I take the empty glass with a casual smile that I offer to all customers. He doesn’t say anything, just watches me, and when I walk back to the bar, I feel his eyes on me the whole time.
For the next couple of hours, all I focus on is him. It’s a flirtation that neither of us acknowledges. It’s a sexual tension that even the drunks can feel.
This alpha wants me, and, for the first time in years, I’ve seen someone I want.
I don’t know whether to go sit on his lap or run for the hills.
It’s late when Ileave the pub, locking the door behind me. The carpark should be empty, but it’s not. There’s a car waiting for me. I smile as I walk towards it.
Looks like he got my message.
The audacity of this piece of shit. I shake my head, unable to stop my wide smile. When I get to the car, he slides out, leaning on the door like the tricked up, lowered sports car is something special.
The guy is around my age with blond hair and good looks. His brown eyes sparkle when he flirts with all the betas. He’s got charisma, charm, and the gift of the gab. He’s a recent recruit for the Cobras, who are a local gang that decided they owned this territory. Horace or Ace, as he likes to be called, has done one deal too many. I slide a hand down my side and put it on my hip, cocking it and making myself look as cute as I possibly can.
It won’t be hard. Beta’s like this guy think I could only possibly want one thing.
I don’t.
He reaches for me, only to have the flat of my palm punch into his face.
“What have I told you about touching me?” I ask with a smile.
“FUCK!” He howls, holding his bloody nose. I watch the drips scatter on the car park ground.
I fold my arms under my breasts and snigger in amusement.
“Oh, don’t be such a baby. It was just a little tap. We have a do not touch arrangement. Have you forgotten?”
“Fuck you, you fucking beta bitch!”
The fact that he, like so many other people, is under the misapprehension that I’m a beta is not something I choose to correct. It’s just another weapon in my arsenal.
He lunges for me, but I’ve been expecting it, and I kick his kneecap hard enough that he hits the asphalt hard. He tilts his head back and howls.
My amusement fades.
I grab his hair and yank his head back, shoving the tip of my knife into the soft skin right where his pulse is thundering.
“Listen to me very carefully, Ace. You’re going to fuck off and stop selling drugs in my neighbourhood, especially to my sister, you hear me?”
Table of Contents
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