Page 9 of Cost of Courting (When it Raines Omegaverse #6)

Chapter seven

Selene

It doesn’t matter how hard I try, apparently, it’s noticeable to every single person that I am in a foul mood, and they all, wisely, get out of my way. I serve beer after beer, and even the regulars don’t try to engage me with conversation.

The omega stench I hate so much vanishes, leaving me with a bitter aroma that just enrages me more.

I get through the long, slow hours of work, stewing in my rage and resentment.

It’s close to closing when I see the door open and a group of people walk in. Kent stiffens and discreetly walks out the back, leaving me to deal with them.

I don’t blame him at all.

“Selene,” the singsong voice is icing on the top of a very rotten day.

I ignore him, but he reaches out and grabs my arm, pulling me back around. The scent of charcoal fills the air. The acrid perfume makes my stomach heave, but maybe it’s just memories.

This is the source of all my stress.

This is the wrong in my world.

This one alpha.

“What do you want, Benson?”

His cold brown eyes watch me as I pull free of him.

“You haven’t paid up yet.”

I let out a hiss. “I’ll have the money tonight.”

He nods and lets me go. I hate everything about him. He’s the worst kind of asshole. The kind that preys on the weak and needy. But one who has no principles, who is so fucking dangerous. He’s the kind of alpha who will rob a starving widow and beat a disabled child.

He’s pure evil.

But he’s charismatic, so he’s got a nice little following. People who claim to see the bigger picture and don’t care about their souls on the way there.

His thugs’ eyes rove over my body, not even trying to hide their vile appreciation. It makes me want to be sick.

I catch movement at the door and see Bailey walk in without a care in the world.

Tension rockets up my spine. The fear that Bailey and Benson will meet is crippling. The worry of what would happen and how hurt Bailey would get makes me feel nauseous.

I ignore him and go to the bar, resuming my normal jobs while I wait. I’m barely functioning as I watch the two of them eye each other like rabid animals.

Benson stands up. He’s got a bald and oiled head, with tatts all over his face. I’ve met some incredible people with face tatts, but, this guy, he’s the one that gives them all a bad name.

He heads towards Bailey, who sits back and watches him come.

“Who are you?”

I discreetly reach below the bar, my hand on the emergency button that will spray neutralizing pheromones into the air that will stun them enough to distract and delay a confrontation.

Beside it is a gun. We’re not supposed to have it, we don’t have a license for it, but the first thing Kent did was take me out and show me how to fire it.

“Passing through.”

“Uh-uh,” Benson leans over Bailey’s table. “Make sure this is your last visit, ey?”

Bailey smirks, not at all cowed. “I’ll leave when I’m good and ready, friend.”

“I aintcha friend, you ugly fucker!”

Benson stabs a knife down into the tabletop. I move my hand to the gun.

“Fine. Let’s go back to having drinks,” Bailey says without a care in the world, and I remember how easily he killed Lester. Maybe Bailey can hold his own?

My gaze finds Benson’s friends. No, he can’t.

I can see Benson wants to continue giving Bailey hell, but he’s got nothing that he can attack. Bailey, for once, is being completely calm and neutral.

I’m not sure why, but I appreciate it all the same. I watch as Benson and his guys leave. He pauses in the doorway and looks at me, a knowing, ugly look, and I can predict what’s coming before he even speaks.

“Until tonight, Selene.”

I feel dirty, the way he basically claims me in front of all these people. I can’t even say anything back because he’s gone before I can stop him.

Not that I would stop him.

I want him gone.

I just don’t want Bailey thinking I’m going to fuck him later. Hold on, that’s right, I don’t give a fuck.

With a growl, I wipe down the bar, serving everyone who comes up, and deliberately refusing to look at Bailey as he sits in the back shadows and watches me.

Kent gives him a drink. I would have let him dehydrate.

We close up, and I lock the door, waving goodbye to Kent as he hops in his jeep.

“Selene.”

I shudder at the sound of his voice. “What do you want, Bailey?”

“You can’t be serious?”

I shrug. “Got nothing better to do with my time.”

“He’s a cold-blooded killer. Scum of the Earth.”

I snort a laugh. “Pot meet kettle.”

“Selene, don’t do this. You’re better than that.”

I scowl and shove his hand off me. “Yeah, I’m chasing after the guy who is fucking my sister. That’s so much better.”

“We weren’t fucking.”

I rock back on my heels, tossing my hair over my shoulder.

“That distinction makes it perfectly okay, then.”

I turn my head to find the three idiots from my childhood standing right there. More witnesses to my ultimate destruction and humiliation.

“I used to be a happy person. I used to have dreams and hopes. Oh, Bailey, I used to be a person who smiled and laughed. Now I’m furious and bitter. I hate who I’ve become. But I’ll be damned if I’ll turn into what you want me to be. Or worse, the scraps you leave me when you all leave.”

I shove him off me, and when the bike rocks up, I run over to it and hop on the back.

The four of them watch me.

I don’t look back. I can’t.

Benson sits on a gold throne. It’s probably spray painted gold, but the sheer audacity of sitting on a throne and bullying your neighbours leaves me breathless with rage.

I hand the envelope of cash over to him.

“Who is he? ”

“How the fuck should I know?” I mutter back.

His hand cracks out, slapping me across my right cheek. It promptly goes numb. I can taste blood, but I don’t dare react.

“Say that to me again, whore.”

“I don’t know who he is.”

He passes the envelope to Needles, a tall, skinny alpha who got his name because, unironically, he likes to tattoo people, or he did before he became Benson’s fetch and carry bitch.

Needles counts the money and murmurs the amount to Benson.

“You’re short!”

“I am not!”

The hand cracks against the left side of my face. Fuck, it hurts.

“You’re short now. First, for talking to me like you got a right to talk to me like that. Second, because you lied. You know this cunt. Now. Who. Is. He?”

“How short?” I ask with a glare, refusing to back down.

“Three.”

“I’ll fight.”

Benson leans forward, staring at me with interest. “You’d rather fight than tell me?”

“I’d rather kick someone’s ass than stand here and breathe the same oxygen you do!” I hiss.

He raises his hand, but I don’t flinch.

“You got it, babe. Get down there and fight for the neighbours you love so much. You can’t save them forever.”

The tension in him is gone, but I know he’s not going to let this go.

I’m escorted down to his ring, which is just the basement. He’s renovated it into an illegal club, and, I have to admit, it looks pretty good. But, in the middle, where one might find a dance square, is a roped off area that is marked with the blood of previous fights. A whole heap of it is mine.

I’ve only just recovered from the last fight. I don’t want to do this. Why do I have to be the one to do this?

I focus my mind. Ruthlessly pushing all thoughts out but one. I have to win.

I ignore the people catcalling me. I ignore the flashes of familiar faces in the crowd, but I do mark them. Anyone who is here supporting this piece of shit is an enemy of mine.

I take off my top, leaving myself in a black sports bra and jeans. It won’t help much, but they’ll have less to grab. I fix my hair into a bun, making sure it won’t come loose.

Benson is talking. No doubt blowing smoke up everyone’s ass and trying to make this fight exciting. I don’t care .

I look at the other corner, waiting to see who will come up.

It takes a few minutes, but when she does, I feel sick. Dezzie is nineteen years old, and she’s not a fighter. She’s just a scared girl.

I summon all the arrogance I own, everything that will piss Benson off and make him redirect his rage onto me.

I put my hand on my hip and turn to Benson. “Really?”

“Hey, if you can’t do it, we can add it to your tab.”

I growl and turn back to Dezzie, frantically trying to find my way out of this. If you go easy, they break bones after the match. If you try to throw it, you’ll be lucky to walk away with your life. I grit my teeth.

I’m going to have to hurt that girl. I really don’t want to do that. There has to be another way.

I turn back to Benson, letting a smile curl my lips. “Sure, boss. Think I can knock her out in one hit?”

He narrows his eyes.

“It doesn’t matter to me, but you agreed to three. If I win, we’re even. It’s not my fault if it’s a bad show.”

The crowd knows me, so when I wave my arms, they cheer. I glance back at the boss. The edges of a huge red tattoo on his chest are visible.

“What’s it gonna be?”

“Anchor, you’re up. Give this bitch the beating she’s begging for. But do not kill her.”

Ah, shit. This is going to hurt. Better me than Dezzie. She gives me a wild-eyed look with tears streaming down her face as she’s roughly escorted out of the club.

I can’t beat Anchor, but it will make for a good show. We will beat on each other, but, eventually, he’ll take me out. He’s the only one of Benson's that I haven’t found the weakness of yet.

“Oh, by the way, Selene.”

I glance at Benson’s smirking, vile face.

“If you mutilate any more of my dealers, I’ll take your sister’s clit and wear it as a necklace. Last warning.”

I just have time to absorb that crippling blow before someone calls the start of the match.

I whirl back frantically, trying to organize my thoughts and focus on survival.

He moves quick for such a huge guy, but he’s not overly smart. He throws a fist that I dodge easily. His foot lashes out and, damn, but he’s got some long legs.

I shift away, and instead of hitting me, he grazes my hip. It still hurts .

The first blow that lands turns my left arm completely numb. I’m rasping for breath and soaked in sweat, and I’m flagging.

The blows come thick and fast, the beating I was promised hammering down, leaving me a crumpled wreck on the concrete floor.

Breathing hurts.

Benson comes to stand over me. He kicks my thigh hard.

“Listen here, you beta whore. Learn your fucking place, and I can stop having people beat your ass.”

“We’re even for my people,” I spit out with a mouthful of blood.

“Yeah, yeah. Get lost.”

I struggle to my knees and, step by painful step, make my way home.

I come in through Dot Neilson’s backyard.

Her eyes get really wide as she helps clean me up.

I’m forced to listen to a verbal reaming while she checks my ribs and head.

After I’m numb and floating with the aid of a really good painkiller, she helps me pass into my property undetected.

I go to bed.

I ignore the banging on my door.

I refuse to answer my sister, who shouts abuse at me before storming away.

The callers at my front door stand in the sunlight waiting, but I’m not coming.

I just hurt.

I hurt so bad.

I peel open my eyes and stare at the demons. I should be afraid, but I’m never afraid of these monsters. No matter how long they’ve been gone.

One is perched on the windowsill, the other creeps towards the bed and pulls the sheet from my body. The third curses and carefully lifts me up.

I cry out and pass into the darkness where I can’t see my demons leave me.