Page 129 of The Forgotten

“No, sir,” I murmur. “I think the trouble ends with me and the poor car.”

Nodding, he walks to the passenger side door, surprising me when he opens it. A minute later, we’re on the road and I gaze out the window. It takes a good half hour before my mind stops pretending, and the truth smacks me across the face.

At least three of the men who held me down tonight are my scent matches. I can’t tell who because the scents mingled together, but my soul is sad. There’s no way in hell I’ll ever see them again, and I won’t even have the courtesy of being able to reject them.

The universe is unfair most of the time it feels. There’s no way in hell that any of these bikers are even close to a possibility for someone I’d want to spend my life with. I’m just a cum receptacle they found on the side of the road.

My eyes slide closed as the tears begin to fall again. I pretend to be asleep until we get to the mechanic’s garage, where they hopefully dry with the other tears that I’ve shed.

I just can’t catch a break. Hopefully tomorrow will be better.

Chapter

Four

One week later

MARIE

The job markethere is seriously tough.

“Marie, it’s Tommy. Answer your fucking phone,”he says in my voice message, making me shake my head at my phone.

“In another life maybe,” I sigh. I just need to get my shit together first. I refuse to be a problem for him.

He has a life, a pack, and a mother-in-law-to-be living with him. Tommy doesn’t need my shit too.

Looking around the room I’m living in currently, I’m grateful that I’m not living in a campground instead. My car is still in the shop because those assholes did some major damage that’ll affect my ability to drive it. Thankfully, I did fill out a police report in the back of the cruiser while I was waiting for the tow truck, and my car insurance is paying for a portion of the damages.

I’ve already been to visit the car once, and it’s cleared out most of my cash.

While I was at the mechanic, Henry told me about Omega’s Haven, a shelter for omegas. They’ve been so kind here, and I told myself that I’d give myself a week before I asked for help in my job search. They even helped me get a new drivers license with little fuss. I appreciate every single thing they’ve done for me.

No one has gotten back to me about my resume, despite the extensive work experience that I have. To add insult to injury, the hospital in Chicago is refusing to pay my last paycheck and officially put a stop to my unemployment benefits.

I feel defeated. The woman at the unemployment office says that several people heard me say that I quit. So that’s that. I need a job.

Pocketing my phone in my jeans, I walk out of my room and close my door. While my insurance is paying for a portion of the car repair, I still have to pay my monthly premium in a few weeks. My window is getting smaller with every breath.

Smiling at a couple of kids that I see playing, I make my way out of the shelter and up front to the outreach portion of the building. There are so many different people from all walks of life here.

I hate having to use these services because I feel like I’m taking a bed that could go to someone that needs it more. I don’t feel like I’m worthy of this.

When you’re so used to paying and sustaining your life on your own, it’s difficult to accept assistance when life blindsides you. Aisling, one of the founders of Omega’s Haven, is in her office as I walk silently through the outreach center. It’s fairly quiet for now, but that could change.

I recently learned that Aisling has ties to the mafia through her father, so I’m concerned that she’ll be forced to tell mybrother that I’m here. She’s told me over and over that she wouldn’t, but my trust is tattered.

“Hey, do you have a second for me?” I ask quietly.

I immediately asked for heat blockers when I got here. I know being scent matched can cause them to not work correctly since biology has a way of occasionally overriding medication. As a nurse I’ve seen it happen too often. It’s unfortunately a chance I have to take.

My other concern is that I can’t even use a heat clinic since I’ll only want my scent matches: alphas who left me without a second glance. I don’t feel right anymore, and I’m constantly on edge. I wish I could tell them to fuck off, because I never asked for this. My anxiety is showing up in a way I’ve never experienced before and I hate it.

Would it be so terrible to be numb?

“Of course,” she says, leaning forward on her desk. “Come in. Is this about your job search?”

“It is,” I sigh, shuffling in to sit on one of the chairs. “I’m worried the doctor who fired me in Chicago has a longer reach than I thought.”