Page 2 of Follow Your Instincts (Fairview City Omegaverse)

The blond woman stepped around the counter and followed me to two armchairs in the corner of the room.

She was visibly shaking, and I stepped in to help guide her to sit.

It was a small store, narrow and deep, but nicely appointed.

The carpet was a plush maroon, and the high ceilings were lit by a soft, warm glow from modern gold light fixtures.

The armchairs were black velvet to match the lining of the three cases that spanned the far end of the store.

All three were busted, but the only one case, on the right, looked like something was missing.

“What’s your name?” I asked and squatted down next to the chair.

“Greta,” she replied.

“Have you worked here long?” I asked.

She nodded. “My grandfather owns the store, but I run the showroom.”

“Do you remember anything about the man that came in?”

“He was wearing a mask, like a ski mask,” she said. “But his hands, I could see those. He was white, not too tall or heavy,” she said, and I nodded along. Her eyes were wide and panicked. “ He pointed the gun right at me,” she sobbed. “And said that if I didn’t get down, he’d blow my head off.”

“It’s okay,” I said and she grabbed my hands. “You’re alright now, everything’s going to be okay.”

This was one of the things I didn’t think they focused enough on in the Academy.

Most of the time, when shit went down, I wasn’t chasing a perp or busting up a drug deal.

Most of the time, I was sitting with someone on the worst fucking day of their life.

And I hated thinking that sometimes those people have to deal with assholes like Todd Phillips on top of their lives falling apart around them.

I let the woman cry and squeeze my hands until my fingers turned purple. I heard the EMS siren a few moments later, and then the crunch of glass as paramedics arrived.

“She okay?” an EMT asked, crouching down next to me. He was an Alpha with a heavy, drugging scent that I’m sure helped calm down patients, but reminded me that I was still knee-deep in my migraine.

“In shock, I think,” I replied and tried to release her hands.

“Don’t leave me!” The woman cried out.

“It’s okay,” I repeated. “I’m not going anywhere, I’m just going to let them do their jobs, but I’m right here with you.”

Two EMTs checked her vitals, and I stood quietly next to her, my hand on her shoulder so she could squeeze it.

As they wrapped up their exam, I saw a squad car pull up. Officer Fraser had already secured the scene along with a few other officers who were taking witness statements. The big boys were here.

Detective Murray got out of the car, thankfully alone. He ducked under the cordon line, and I watched him approach.

“Everything okay?” He asked the EMTs who were packing up their equipment.

“Yeah, she’s okay, just shaken up,” the Alpha replied. Murray nodded, then stepped a bit closer to where Greta was still holding my hand in a death grip.

“I’m Detective Soren Murray,” he said, his voice low and calm, and showed Greta his badge. “I think you’ve had a shitty Monday.”

As the breeze blew into the busted front door, I caught his scent. Juicy grapefruit and earthy hops. He smelled like a summer day out on the porch, drinking a hazy IPA, sweet but with just the right amount of bitterness. And I almost hit the fucking floor.

Desire curled in my stomach, hot and sudden, and my knees felt weak. The headache I’d been nursing all day hit even sharper, and the soft lights of the store were too much, too bright. A ringing started in my ears, and I bit back an involuntary gasping whine.

What the fuck is happening right now?

Suddenly, I was gripping Greta’s hand just as hard, trying to keep a lifeline so I didn’t throw myself at Detective Murray, who was looking at me with complete bewilderment.

“Officer?” He said, taking another step towards us. “You alright?”

I released Greta’s hand and took a step back. Do not let him get any closer , my instincts clamored.

“I’m fine, just… haven’t been feeling well today,” I said. Truth. That was true. This madness must be the migraine. I couldn’t even look at him without fighting the urge to crawl on my knees and beg for something that I couldn’t name.

Murray’s bewilderment turned to concern. “You don’t look too good. Where are the EMTs…” he said, half-turning.

“No, no, I’m good. Just need some fresh air,” I said and walked sideways towards the back of the store, edging around him like he was some kind of feral animal. But I was the feral animal that wanted to devour him whole.

How could I have ever thought he wasn’t handsome? His hair was wavy, thick, and dark like his close-trimmed beard, and both were going just a bit gray. His eyes were a deep navy blue above a sharp nose. And he smelled so good, I wanted to eat him.

He turned to follow my progress. “You should probably go home,” he said. “Or back to the station. I’ll find you later to get your first impressions of the scene.”

I nodded, and relief flooded through me.

At the last moment, I remembered Greta. I turned back to her and knelt by her chair.

“I’m so sorry I have to go,” I said truthfully.

“But you’re in very good hands with Detective Murray.

And if you need anything, here’s my card,” I said and passed her one from my right chest pocket.

“Thank you for sitting with me,” Greta said.

“Detective,” I said, and turned back to face him. Another blast of that scent hit me, and I gripped my hands behind my back. “We can talk later.”

I walked as fast as I could out to the sidewalk and gulped down the fresh air. Now that I was away from Murray, the sudden madness was fading.

What the fuck is going on? I thought as I walked on shaky legs back to Commonwealth Street.

News trucks were starting to pull up to get their B-roll for the evening broadcast. I checked my phone and it was 4:30 pm.

An hour until shift change, but if Detective Murray wanted to get my first impressions of the scene, I needed to hang around the station.

Away from his weirdly enticing scent, I was thinking rationally again.

This was a good chance for me. If I could have even just a bit of insight into how he worked this case, I would have needed to stick around.

I couldn’t let some strange migraine aura that made him smell incredible keep me from making a good impression.

I’d been an officer for four years and two months.

After five years of service, I could apply for detective and fulfill the lifelong dream that had sustained me through a bachelor's degree in Criminology, six months at the Academy, and four long years of dealing with assholes like Todd Phillips who thought they deserved more just because of their dick. Eight more months and I would be Murray’s equal and the only female detective in the precinct. This was just a blip.

As I walked, I Googled “migraine aura smell horny” in incognito mode just to see if there were any answers, but it seemed like I was some kind of medical mystery.

The headache had settled back to pre-Murray-encounter levels and I didn’t feel like dry humping anyone.

My only regret was Greta. I really hoped she’d call me and let me know how she was doing after today.

I could always drop by and see her later, too.

I wrapped up my shift by giving a stern warning to some teens drinking in a park.

Todd would’ve probably tried to arrest them, but I remembered being 16.

It was only ten years ago that I had been dressing up to meet boys in the park who promised they could get Mike’s Hard Lemonades from their friend’s brother’s roommate.

“Respectfully, fuck you, ma’am” the girl said as I poured out their 40s. She was wearing a tiny crop top and shorts with chunky white sneakers and had the effortless beauty you can only have as a rich white girl in Kellen Commons. Her boyfriend was too scared to say anything.

“You’re welcome, little miss sunshine,” I said and threw the empty cans into the recycling. “Next time I see you out here, I’m calling your parents.”

She flipped me off and stomped away.

I walked the short couple of blocks to the precinct and headed straight for the gym. Murray would probably be wrapping up at the scene of the robbery soon, and I could fit in a short workout before he came back to the precinct.

The precinct gym was just as bleak as every other aspect of the place.

It had two treadmills, an ancient weight bench and rack, and a set of rusted-out dumbbells in a dank, dark room all the way past the locker rooms. I changed into my ratty gym clothes and peeked out into the hallway to make sure no one was around.

I was the only one who ever used it on the day shift as far as I knew, and I thought it might be because no one else knew it existed.

Most other officers worked out in proper gyms, but I didn’t want to waste the money. You can’t get better than free .

I still felt like shit, but I forced myself to run through my upper body workout. Maybe this is some kind of flu , I thought. Maybe that’s why I’m so achy.

I wrapped up my last set and headed back to the locker room to shower. Hopefully I hadn’t missed Detective Murray and I could catch him in the bullpen before I went home and finally put an end to this weird fucking day.

The women’s locker room shower had two shower heads; one that barely let out a trickle and one that blasted off a jet like a firehose.

As I contemplated which one sounded less like torture to my protesting body, my mind circled back to Detective Murray.

Soren. What had happened earlier? I’d never, ever responded to a scent like that, and especially not to a Beta.

I’d hooked up with a few Alphas back in college, and they had smelled good, sure, but I’d never wanted to do the things my mind had conjured up back at the jewelry store just by giving someone a sniff.