Page 15 of The Violence of Love (The Black Market Omega #2)

“There are always alphas hanging around the bar looking for work,” I say, gesturing toward that area with a nod. “Most get rejected. You could hire one to say he’s part of your pack.”

Rhett snorts, annoyed. “Should’ve thought of that myself.”

“Once you find someone,” I continue, “I’ll go with you to the claiming booth. You’ll need her number.” He glances at the crumpled slip in my hand. I smooth it out and tap the digits. I tap the 5228 he scribbled in black ink. “You’ll need her real number to claim her.”

A flicker of something passes over his face. Impressed? Maybe. It vanishes too fast to tell. Then his brow lifts slightly. “Let me ask you something…” He hesitates, lips twitching with something like a grim smile. “What’s your name again?”

“Charlie,” I say quickly. “Charlie Pullson.”

“Okay, Charlie.” He looms over me. “What’s to stop me from stuffing you in the trunk of my car after we claim her and dumping your body in the river?”

The fear hits fast and hard. My chest locks up, and my hands go clammy, but I force myself not to flinch.

“You can do that,” I admit, dropping my gaze.

“But you shook my hand. Autry said you were nice. A gentleman. She said you seemed like an honorable alpha. The kind she always dreamed of finding.” Only the first half of that is true, but I’ve got nothing else to convince this alpha not to gut me the second he has Autry’s sales receipt.

Rhett’s expression tightens. His gaze drifts off for a beat, thinking. Then, finally, he says, “Fine.”

My heart leaps.

“Let’s do it.” He stands tall, eyes scanning past me toward the bar. His face is hard. Cold. Reluctant. But I don’t care. Because we’re doing it.

Excitement and relief wash over me, followed by an explosion of nerves. But I can’t get too worked up. Not yet. We still need to find an alpha. I turn, looking at the bar. “We need to find someone who looks trustworthy,” I murmur, scanning the crowd. “Someone who won’t blackmail you later.”

Rhett groans and rolls his eyes. “I actually know someone,” he mutters, already turning.

I scramble after him, instinctively keeping close—not out of trust, but because walking near a large, dangerous alpha like Rhett means fewer eyes on me.

We carve through the crowd. Past the low bleachers at the auction stage, past the makeshift kitchen and its pungent, greasy smell, and out into the warm evening air near the outdoor bar.

It’s rowdier out here. The kind of energy that makes my skin prickle with unease.

Laughter rings out too loudly, glasses clink like warning bells, and a few alphas wear expressions so hard and bitter they look like they’re hunting something.

“Oli.” Rhett’s voice cuts through the noise, sharp and commanding.

The alpha slowly turns, and my brows shoot up. He’s young. Maybe around my age. He’s handsome, the kind that knows it. Sun-kissed skin, eyes a murky hazel-green, dark waves of hair falling into his lashes. He looks like he’s been punched a few times and probably deserved every one of them.

And then his eyes cut to me.

I step back on instinct.

“What do you want?” Oli asks, and his voice is the kind that scrapes a little as it leaves his throat. Hard. Suspicious. Not friendly.

Rhett doesn’t answer right away. He drops onto the stool next to him and waves to the beta behind the bar. “I’ll have what he’s having.”

Oli gives him a long, unimpressed look. “It’s ginger ale.”

Rhett frowns, surprised, before looking at the bartender. “I’m going to need something much stronger than that.”

The bartender pours a shot of something that smells sharp even from here. Whiskey, maybe. Cheap. Strong. I don’t have a nose like an alpha, but I can still taste the tension in the air. It’s in the way they both sit—too still. Like neither trusts the other not to strike.

The bartender asks if Oli wants another.

“Sure.” Oli throws back the last of his fizzy drink, then slams it down. “Put it on my friend’s tab.”

Rhett doesn’t flinch. “That’s fine.”

I don’t move. I don’t speak. I keep my head down and my breathing measured. If I act too beta, they’ll ignore me. If I act too bold, they’ll notice me. There’s a dangerous line somewhere in between, and I’m trying to walk it with my shoulders tight and my eyes lowered.

“What do you want?” Oli picks up the fresh glass, cutting Rhett with a look so hard I curl my shoulder inward. Are they not friends?

“I’d like to offer you a job,” Rhett says.

“Why?” Oli snips as the bartender slides a new glass in front of him. “Thought you wanted me to mind my own fucking business.”

“I thought you needed work.” Rhett brings his glass to his lips. He takes a small sip of the amber liquid. His upper lip curls, telling me it must not taste very good. “Or did you find a job here?”

“Nope.” Oli downs his whole drink in one go, then slams his glass back on the bar. “I’m still looking.” He turns on his stool, facing Rhett properly. “What kind of job are you offering?”

Rhett sets his glass down slowly. “I’d like to pay you to pretend to be in my pack.”

Oli barks out a laugh, loud enough that several nearby heads turn. Then he looks at me like I might be in on the joke. “You serious?”

I open my mouth to explain what exactly we need, but Rhett’s gaze slices to me like a blade. And I snap it shut. Shit. I forgot. If I’m going to be in his pack, then that means letting him speak for me in situations like this.

This is weird.

“I’d like some added security to help get my new omega to the airport.” Rhett lies cooly.

“So you want a bodyguard?” Oli scrunches up his face as if not understanding. “You don’t need me to pretend to be in your pack for that.”

“True.” Rhett leans against the bar. He looks so relaxed, like all of this is normal and easy.

I’m a little jealous. I wish I could do that.

“People are more cautious around unmated omegas when they're guarded by their soon-to-be mates. There are too many assholes out there who think they can take down a single alpha. They see two alphas, and they think twice.”

“Or three,” Oli says, glancing at me again, smirking. He’s obviously making fun of me.

I press my lips together and drop my gaze. I hate this, but I keep thinking of Autry. Of her small hands gripping mine. Her wide, frightened eyes when she realized she was being taken. The softness of her voice when she said she didn’t want to leave me.

It’s enough to keep me standing here, in a place where I feel like I might shatter from the inside out.

“Who's the kid?” Oli finally asks, his eyes still fixed on me like he’s trying to puzzle out what I am.

“He doesn’t matter,” Rhett says.

I flinch, but swallow my protest. I do matter. At least to her. But I nod anyway, to no one in particular. It’s safer that way.

“How much?” Oli asks, getting back to business.

Rhett pulls the coaster out from under his glass, then digs a pen out of his back pocket. He scribbles something down before pushing it toward Oli. I can't tell what it says, but the alpha's brows shoot up.

“Just to the airport?” Oli flips the coaster upside down.

“Yes.” Rhett clicks the end of his pen.

“Cash?”

“Of course.”

“Double it and we’ve got a deal,” Oli says, and Rhett laughs like he expected that .

“Deal.” Rhett extends his hand, and just like that, we have a fake pack.

I exhale shakily. My palms are clammy, and my heart hasn’t stopped pounding since I left the boarding house. But underneath all of it, buried beneath the fear that coils and rattles like a snake in my gut, there’s hope.

I’m one step closer to Autry.