Page 4 of Enticing Little Omega (Twisted Little Tales #5)

Cindy

I didn't know where I was going.

Didn't know what I was running to. All I knew was that I needed to get away from Tracy. Tracy and... the pack.

The world outside the windshield blurred into streaks of shadow and highway. Every road sign passed unread, every mile a smudge behind me. I didn't care. Just needed distance.

From them.

From the truth.

From what my body had become.

The gas gauge blinked its warning light at me, reminding me of my meagre funds suddenly made even more desperate because I'd need to get my hands on a new identity and black market suppressants. Not to mention, I wouldn't know the first thing about getting either of those things!

I pulled off at the next exit, a narrow off-ramp that fed into a mostly abandoned stretch of rural nothing. Trees loomed on either side like silent sentinels. An abandoned looking gas station sat on one corner. It didn't even seem to have a name.

With a sinking heart, I coasted into the gravel lot anyway and killed the engine.

I was shaking.

That initial burst of heat had faded, but the memory of it, the feeling of all those scents, all those things overwhelming me, was still so present I shuddered.

I shoved open the door and stumbled into the night air.

Cool.

Damp and quiet.

So amazing.

There was no cell service, and I couldn't see anyone behind the counter in the small convenience store, but there were lights, so I had that hope at least.

"She's on an extended break," a voice said to me out of the dark.

"Fuck!" I cried out, jumping around to face where the voice had come from. "Warn a girl, why don't you?" I admonish before I finally make out the person walking from the shadows.

It's a girl around my age, maybe a bit older.

Tall and lean, with long limbs and dark, glowing skin.

Her braids were twisted up into a high knot, loose curls escaping around her face.

She wore a patched denim jacket over a silky shirt that shimmered when she moved.

And boots. Badass boots, I felt immediate envy over.

Our eyes met.

She hesitated, then offered a lopsided smile. "The attendant. She's on a break. But she has been on one for like... over an hour now."

"Oh," I respond, wondering what the hell this girl is doing standing in the dark in a creepy-looking gas station.

"You look like hell," she told me.

I blinked. "Uh... thanks?"

She walked over casually, hands in her pockets. "Didn't mean to be rude... Just... I've been there."

I stepped back a little. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not," she said gently. "But it's okay. I wasn't either when I first ran away."

The word hit me square in the chest.

I froze.

Is she one too? Fuck. What if she... no... she wouldn't, right?

"Don't worry," she adds quickly, almost soothingly. "I'm an Omega on the run, too."

My knees nearly buckled. I grabbed the side of the car and sucked in much needed air. She stood there patiently, not coming closer or pressing.

"And you're okay now?" I asked before I could stop myself.

"Yeah. More than good. Free."

The silence stretched between us after that. Thick and strange, but not uncomfortable.

"What's your name?" I eventually asked.

She hesitated just a moment too long. "Marigold."

"Like the flower?"

"Exactly like the flower." Her grin returned, slow and sharp.

"I'm Cindy."

Her eyes flicked to my face like she was cataloguing something. "Well, Cindy, you got a plan?"

I shook my head. "Just driving for now. My escape did not go as planned.

This morning I woke up a Beta, getting ready to flee the nest as soon as my eighteenth birthday hit.

Throw in an unplanned Omega presentation, followed by meeting a scent match to the worst possible pack, and you got the makings of a crazy story. "

She hummed softly. "First things first, you'll probably need to get rid of the name. And some meds to help with those... hormones."

I shrugged. "Yeah. I used to be a waitress. I don't really have the skills or knowledge of where to get either of those."

She turned her back on me and grabbed a bag from the shadows and tossed it to me.

"What's this?"

She shrugged. "It's a start. Some money, a contact number for someone to help you with the stuff you might need."

I stared at her, my heart beating in my ears. "Why are you helping me?"

Marigold shrugged again. "Because I'm in the position to help you. Because someone helped me once."

There was something in her tone I couldn't quite place.

"And one day, I might come calling for a favour of my own."

Then she turned around to go.

"Wait... where are you going?"

"Wherever I want," she said with a wink. "That's the point."

I watched her walk away, that strange ache tugging at my chest.

Marigold had stepped back into the shadows near the side of the station, already half-swallowed by the dark leaving so many damn questions in her wake.

I went into the store and found a self service option for the gas, quickly paying for enough to nearly fill the tank. I was just finishing up and getting ready to leave when I heard it.

Not a bang. Not a shout. Just this... wet crack, followed by a sharp gasp. Then silence.

My heart stopped. I froze, every hair on my arms rising.

"Marigold?" I called out, voice breaking on the edges.

Nothing.

I took a hesitant step forward. Then another.

The shadows felt darker now. Colder.

When I rounded the side of the building, I saw her. Slumped against the wall, body twisted unnaturally, one hand reaching toward me. Blood bloomed across the front of her shimmering shirt, too dark in the moonlight to be real. Too much.

No! No! No! No!

"Marigold!" I dropped to my knees beside her, grabbing her wrist, shaking her gently. "Come on! What happened?"

Her eyes fluttered open just a sliver. Her lips moved, barely a breath.

"...run..."

And then she went still.

I choked on a sob. My fingers curled into her jacket, gripping tight like I could hold her by sheer will alone. I wanted to scream. I wanted to collapse.

But I didn't.

Because I heard footsteps.

Fast.

Approaching.

I scrambled to my feet and ran. Back to the car, slamming the door, locking it, gasping for breath. I turned the key with shaking fingers and floored it out of the lot, tires skidding over gravel.

I didn't look back.

I couldn't.

The bag Marigold had given me was on the passenger seat, untouched.

And somewhere deep inside it, I knew I would find my way forward.

But I couldn't stop the tears as I drove.

She saved me. And now she was gone.