Page 31 of The Careless Alpha

"That's a long way to come looking for work. You running from something?"

The direct question caught me off guard. I could lie, make up some story about seeking adventure or wanting to see the ocean. But something about Rita's straightforward manner made me want to tell at least part of the truth.

"Someone," I said quietly. "I'm running from someone."

Rita's expression softened slightly. "Boyfriend?"

I nodded, not trusting my voice.

"He hurt you?"

The question opened up a well of pain so deep I almost couldn't breathe. Marshall had hurt me in ways that went beyond physical violence, had shattered my heart and my sense of self with surgical precision.

"Yes," I whispered.

Rita was quiet for a moment, then nodded decisively. "Well, you won't be the first girl to wash up on my shore looking for a fresh start. Can you be here at six tomorrow morning?"

Relief flooded through me so suddenly that my knees went weak. "Yes. Thank you. Thank you so much."

"Don't thank me. The work's hard and the pay's not much. But it's honest work, and I don't tolerate any nonsense from customers who think they can treat my girls poorly."

"I understand."

"You got a place to stay?"

That was the question I'd been dreading. "Not yet. I was hoping to find something cheap, maybe a room somewhere..."

Rita studied me for another moment, then sighed. "There's a small apartment upstairs. Previous tenant moved out last week, and I haven't found anyone new yet. It's not much—just a studio with a kitchenette and a bathroom—but it's clean and safe."

"I can pay," I said quickly, though I wasn't sure how much rent would cost or if my remaining money would cover it.

"We'll work something out," Rita said. "You can work for part of the rent and pay the rest when you get on your feet."

The kindness in her offer almost undid me. Here was a stranger offering me exactly what I needed most—work, shelter, and a chance to start over.

"Why?" I asked. "Why would you help me?"

Rita's smile was sad and knowing. "Because thirty-five years ago, I was eighteen and pregnant and running from a man who thought he owned me. Someone helped me then, and I've been paying it forward ever since."

Pregnant. She could tell I was pregnant.

"How did you—"

"Hon, I've been watching women come and go in this town for decades. I know the signs." Rita's voice was gentle. "You're what, maybe three or four months along?"

I nodded, my hand instinctively moving to protect my stomach. Wolf pregnancies went much faster than human pregnancies, especially with an Alpha pup.

"The father know?"

"He knows," I said bitterly. "He doesn't want us."

"His loss," Rita said firmly. "That baby's lucky to have a mama brave enough to start over for them."

She's right,Sapphire said with fierce pride.We are brave. We are strong. We will survive this.

Rita led me upstairs to show me the apartment, and while it was small and sparsely furnished, it was clean and bright, with windows that looked out over the harbor. There was a bed, a small table with two chairs, a kitchenette with a mini-fridge and a hot plate, and a bathroom with a shower that had decent water pressure.

"It's perfect," I said, and meant it. After three days on buses and sleeping in stations, it looked like a palace.