Page 65 of The Forgotten

Sometimes, his pack comes in and drinks around closing, just so they can be near him. It’s adorable, and I’m really happy for him.

“They haven’t done anything to deserve a second chance,” I tell Mickey, pulling away. “Are the guys here yet?”

I’m changing the subject, something he knows immediately as he rolls his eyes.

“Yes, they texted me just before I came back to make sure you were okay,” he grumbles.

“Good, then I’ll see you when I’m back to work,” I say, shooing him ahead of me as I walk him out to the front door.

Waving at his pack as they open the car door for him, I smile as they leave and I lock up again. I don’t usually mind closing, but I feel very twitchy tonight. It’s like I have an itch on my neck that I can't scratch and my skin is crawling.

I need to get home to my nest so I can text the pack that I’m supposed to be fucking for the next three days. There’s nothing romantic about this at all.

The truth is, I’ve had to make my own kind of safety the last few years.

Pulling closed all the blinds, I walk through the bar and turn off all the lights. The only medication I’m on now is a new form of heat control that cuts down how many heats I have in a year. I can’t take off work every month, and Mickey suggested that I get on the medication when they first became available.

There seem to be less side effects than the blocking medication I used to be on. That shit used to make me so dizzy, I almost knocked myself out once on the kitchen counter. Shaking my head at the trial and error of medication I’ve had to test out as an omega, I stop just short of the employee area to write a note to the boss.

I’m running low on a few things and want to make sure that he restocks while I’m gone. I never thought I’d help to run a bar, but I’m having fun with it.

When I first started working here, I never thought I’d have to tell Caleb my story. However, as expected,Frozen Heartshit it big with their first few songs, and the bar would play over the speakers. As an Irish bar, the crowd loves songs with angst, pain, and a wicked guitar riff.

The worst part is the lyrics. They talk about the girl who got away, and have gotten progressively crueler over the years. Nothing blocked out the words, not even ear plugs. I finally had to beg Caleb to banFrozen Hearts’songs from his playlist.

I had a lot of explaining to do, but he inevitably agreed. It already feels as if there are too many people who know my secrets. I don’t like it.

Walking down the back hallway, I begin to turn off the lights. While I’m working, I typically smear a gel underneath my nose so I can concentrate with the sea of alpha pheromones I’m surrounded by. It mutes all the scents, allowing me to breathe without worry.

It also keeps me from filling the bar with my perfume. Even though it’s great for tips, it’s not something I’m comfortable with. It’s a rookie mistake, and I’m capable of pulling great money with just my low cut shirts and a smirk.

I always wash off the gel before I walk home because it makes me scent blind, which is dangerous. The city is still having problems with auction brokers kidnapping omegas off the streets, and I’ve heard rumors that an omega named Emilia is responsible for it now that she’s running her own auction house.

It’s as if we jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire.

Blowing out a breath, I steel my spine and push open the back door. It’ll lock behind me, so I step out into the alley and begin walking quickly. The cool breeze whips through the alley, making me shiver. Suddenly, I’m happy for the coolness of spring, because I feel like I have an internal furnace inside of me.

I will sometimes have spikes before my heat, signaling that I’m very close to tipping over the edge. It usually gives me enough time to enact my emergency care routine. I’m annoyed that it’s happening so early in the morning. It means I’m going to need to text the alphas who agreed to help me through my heat.

Pulling out my phone, I bring up Ricky’s number. He’s the night owl of the crew, and my best bet to catch before he goes to bed.

Me:

Hey, I think I’m going into heat earlier than planned. I know it’s really late, but would you be up for me coming over?

Minneapolis is a ghost town at three in the morning. I believe that it’s when the devil dances through the streets, but I also find it very peaceful. I live comfortably with what I make from the bar, however, it’s not enough for a car.

I also don’t mind the walk usually.

My phone pings, alerting me to a text, and I whisper up a prayer that they remember our agreement.

Ricky:

We kind of have company. It might not be a good idea to come by.

“Ew,” I breathe. “Fucking man whores.”

Who has a booty call over when they know an omega is going to need their cum for herself? Okay, that sounds really jealous and needy now that I think about it. Especially for alphas that are this gross.