Page 3

Chapter 3

Kobe

Waiting in the parking lot like I was told, I hang my hand out of the open side window and look around the evening skyline of the city. The world seems calm. The streets are fairly quiet. Still, I can’t help but feel restless.

Tapping at the outside of the car door, I wonder how long it will be before they come out. I was supposed to wait here, right?

Things have been going fine these past few weeks. Suspiciously fine. No one’s asked me to do anything extreme. Nothing but simple orders—get in the car, take us here, take us there, wait in that street at that hour. There’s been no hazing, and I’m glad, but that doesn’t make me any less nervous.

Obviously, none of the men really trust me yet. It’s only for me to wonder if they kind of ignore me because they don’t know me, because I’m an omega, or for some other reason. Either way, I miss the familiarity of my old gang. Sure, I didn’t exactly have friends there, but I was a familiar part of the machine. A cog that fits in smoothly. Now…?

I blink sharply when I hear the heavy back door slam. Jasper heads toward me, together with two of his men. Trey and…Gibbs, I think? Jasper walks as though he owns the city. Owns the world, even.

Sometimes I wonder if that’s the way only an alpha can experience life, or if all one needs is confidence and an inflated sense of self.

They all get in the car. Trey sits at the front and almost immediately takes out a cigarette, seemingly out of habit, and puts it in his mouth. He always just chews it. Never lights it. It irritates me for some reason.

“Go to 24 Rose Hill. Past the old hospital,” Jasper finally says, making me dart my eyes to the rearview mirror. He’s looking into his phone.

“Yes, boss,” I say and start the engine.

We end up beside a shoe warehouse, which I suspect isn’t a shoe warehouse at all. There’s already a second car with a few of Jasper’s guys there waiting. I’m told to stay in the car, so I do, while everybody else walks in. Once again, I don’t really know why we’re here. Some sort of deal going down with another gang? Or is Jasper just overseeing on the progress of one of the many new ventures he’s been getting into, according to the chatter I overheard in the break room?

Sitting around and thinking does me no good. Lets my mind wander too much.

I think about how Skyler’s doing and how little time I’ve been spending with him lately. He never says anything until he boils over and has a proper meltdown about it. I haven’t been checking on Marci enough, either. She, too, won’t tell me how bad she’s doing until things get too unbearable.

But they have a roof over their heads at least, right? It’s what I try to placate myself with. No one’s starving. Skyler is getting the help he needs and Marci can afford the medical care that makes her multiple sclerosis somewhat manageable. I couldn’t do that for them if I didn’t have this job.

“Hey!” I hear somewhere outside and quickly turn to see a group of men walking out of the warehouse. Jasper isn’t with them. Trey’s waving me down while the others congregate around the other car. “Freshface, come here!” he shouts.

Frowning to myself, I release the wheel I’ve been unintentionally squeezing the whole time and take the keys out. I get out and walk slowly toward them, trying to seem natural. Easygoing, but not too easygoing.

This need to put forth an image of someone confident and tough without seeming arrogant or unlikable is something I’ll never stop struggling with. One would think I’d become more proficient at it after so many years…

With a neutral, faint smile, I come up to them, adjusting my leather gloves.

“Boss’s talkin’ business. Probably gonna be a while,” Trey notes with an annoyed grimace. Gibbs next to us takes out a pack of cigs and opens it. The other guys surround him like bees, all taking one.

Idle standing around and chatting with these alphas. Great.

None of them have said anything about me being an omega. Is that my suppressants working well enough for them to ignore it or just them trying to be decent? The thought almost makes me chuckle—since when has this line of work been known for decency?

To my surprise, Gibbs raises his brow at me and stretches out his arm. Even though I have my own, I accept and pull out a cigarette. They’re a good brand. Expensive.

Trey nearly pushes me out of the way when reaching for one too, putting his half-soggy cig that’s been in his mouth till now into his pocket.

I try not to believe my mind that tells me they all look at me and judge. It’s fine. I lean against the car with my back and cross my feet, waiting for the lighter someone else brought out and is being passed around. While I feel some eyes on me, mostly from the men I’m not with too much, nobody says anything.

Gibbs starts talking crap about the supplier Jasper is inside with. It’s all about guns and some rare gun parts, apparently. Everyone boasts about their favorite guns. Trey even takes out his mini Uzi and waves it about, showing off its neo-chrome finish. Without hesitance, another alpha pulls out his shotgun out of the trunk of the car.

With my cigarette finally lit, I slowly draw in and quietly listen, raising my brows and humming here and there to show interest. The pistol and a knife in my chest rig hidden under my jacket to the side suddenly feel heavier than usual.

They all talk about guns like they’re exciting toys. I know how to use mine, but it quickly dawns on me I share nowhere near the same reckless abandon about using them. That sort of thinking probably makes me weak, so I stay quiet and hope no one engages with me.

“Packs a nasty punch. Hurts my fucking shoulder to shoot it.”

“When’s the last time you made someone eat a shotty in the face?” Trey asks in a mocking tone. Some of the guys laugh while the owner, Lenny, groans.

“You prolly couldn’t even hit me with it, you prick,” he bites back.

“Shot this guy in the face once…” Gibbs notes pensively, looking up while he breathes out smoke. “Was so close, his fucking eye just plopped out and his brains started leaking out like some melting cake-filling. So much shit’s packed in the skull,” he says, but nothing in his tone shows any sort of emotional response.

I swallow and look down, taking a puff of my cigarette, while a few people make disgusted sounds. Others laugh.

“You maniac.”

“Didn’t say I enjoyed it,” Gibbs says, raising his left brow with a deep scar in it.

“Bet you did,” Lenny mutters, chuckling.

Gibbs raises his dark gaze slowly, practically pinning Lenny in place. His pheromones are sharp, spicy almost, as he lets them out, shifting the atmosphere uncomfortably. “Like you haven’t done worse, you little rat. At least I don’t gut animals for fun,” he grumbles in a low voice.

I’m not the only one swallowing nervously this time. Trey tries to break the ice with an awkward laugh. He pats Lenny on the shoulder, even though he looks like he’s going to jump at Gibbs, or is thinking about it. Standing between them doesn’t make me feel exactly at ease, so I lower my hand closer to my waist, in case I have to be ready. If I’ve learned anything, it’s that alphas can be temperamental. Volatile .

“We’ve all done things, no?” Trey continues in his completely carefree tone. “Let’s not judge. We’re all friends here, right?”

Gibbs finally releases the tension in his sharp, wide jaw. He huffs, flares his nose and looks away while taking a last puff from his cigarette before stomping it under his boot. “Sure,” he murmurs.

Everyone else seems to calm down, too, including Lenny. Trey glances at me, like he’s checking on how I’m handling it, so I hope my face is as neutral as possible.

Unfortunately, the moment his eyes land on me, some idea sparks behind them. His already crooked, thin lips shift into a smirk. “Speaking of… We’re well aware of each other’s sins, aren’t we, fellas? What about you, Kobe?” he asks.

This time, everyone’s gaze’s definitely aimed at me.

I tighten the muscles in my stomach and take in a shallow breath. “What about me?”

“Gotta get to know each other to work together. So, what’s the worst thing you ever did? Don’t be shy, bud.”

Feeling my heart gallop, I clench my jaw. I’m not sure if it’s just Trey being his usual psychotic self or some kind of passive aggressive dig, but I feel like a rabbit surrounded by a pack of wolves. Their predatory eyes await my answer, eager for blood. They want to hear my sins, something I try to not think about if I can help it, and it will be nothing but some juicy conversation topic for them.

“I…beat a man to death.”

Do I sound firm enough? I barely make out my own words over my pulse pounding in my head.

“With your bare hands?” someone asks doubtfully, even if there is a hint of admiration in his voice.

I nod. “It was him or me,” I say the same thing I’ve been telling myself over and over again. “I was just a driver most of the time. Didn’t get too close to any real action,” I add, hoping it is a good excuse for not having anything greater, more fucked up to share. That’s how they see these things—like a badge of honor. I’m not like them. I’ve tried before; tried to force my feelings into that mold. They never fit.

I am not proud of what I’ve done. The only thing I allow myself to feel about it is exactly that: it was him or me. I had no choice.

“Not surprised the old man Carlos would hold you back,” I hear Jasper’s voice. He’s standing in the cracked open main door. None of us heard him come.

How long has he been listening?

Somehow, I manage a smirk and nod that convey my fake sympathy with his words.

He shielded me, I think. Mr. Wilson never would’ve admitted it, but he fell into that trap so many people do. He viewed me as competent and useful, but I was still an omega to him. Maybe he saw his omega daughter in me. Soft, submissive, to be protected. I don’t want to be seen that way…yet at the same time, I appreciated not having to get my hands too dirty.

“Here, no one’ll hold you back or hold your hand,” Jasper says while stepping toward us. He glances around at the guys who make sounds of agreement. “The recipe for success is to let people be the best they can be at what they’re good at. I’m curious to see what that’ll be for you.” As he steps close to me, I look up to meet his eyes. He’s only a few inches taller than me, but his innate confidence makes it that much more obvious.

I meet his gaze for a moment before looking down to show respect. Know when to accept your orders and keep your mouth shut. Another helpful advice Mr. Wilson gave me at the very beginning.

“Anyway,” he blurts after a few seconds of silence. As he turns away from me, his pheromones hit me in the face. “We’ve got one more stop to make, so come on.”

Jasper walks toward the car and I use the moment to inhale and stretch out my fingers before closing my fists again to ground myself. Trey nudges me playfully before heading out as well. Gibbs studies me while shuffling the now nearly empty cigarette box in his hand. I don’t like his cold, calculative gaze, so I hurry after Jasper.

My job is to drive. So I drive.

I get us across the city, north of the previous stop. This area is more residential. We pass a school, a park… Something inside me tightens because of the quiet, tense atmosphere in the car. Jasper sits with his head tilted to watch out of the window while he whistles a faint melody. Trey cleans his huge hunting knife.

As I slow into one of the tight alleys between the many four-storey tall apartment buildings, Jasper leans forward into the space in the middle. “There,” he says, pointing at the building ahead. “Stop by the side entrance. Stay here. Be ready to go when we get back.” His words are sharp and clear.

I can tell from his voice that he enjoys ordering people around. It comes naturally, not just because he’s an alpha.

“Understood,” I say.

After he pats me on the shoulder, they all leave. Trey swiftly unlocks the door with what seems to be a hook pick and just like that, they’re in. I try to ignore and suppress that heavy feeling at the bottom of my chest.

Of course they’re not doing anything good there, you idiot. And you’re as culpable as any of them.

Waiting anxiously with the window half open so I can hear, my mind keeps coming back to the interaction from before, analyzing my every move and word. I should’ve talked more. Been more assertive. I can’t afford to be seen as weak.

‘Nothing worse in this world than being perceived as weak, boy.’ I never thought I would miss Carlos Wilson this much. He was a gangster, and he was stuck up sometimes, but there was more to him than that. Than violence.

There were nights where I wholly enjoyed listening to Carlos on our drives. And there were moments when he almost made me feel like he cared about me.

Am I judging these people too quickly?

Maybe there’s more beyond all this careless brutality, but…I highly doubt it.

This time, I’m more perceptive. The moment I hear a commotion behind the door, I turn the engine on and anxiously lean forward. Jasper comes out first, dragging a girl next to him. She trembles as he holds her arm. Under his jacket, he aims his gun at her to make her cooperate.

My stomach clenches.

Trey walks out after them, but Gibbs is nowhere to be seen. Even when they both get into the car, he’s not coming. I glance at Trey and then Jasper in the back, but neither of them pays mind to me. The girl’s trembling breaths on the verge of hyperventilating echo in the small space. Jasper puts a seatbelt on her and locks the door on her side.

“That’s it. Be a good darling, alright?” he whispers to her in a voice that makes the hairs at the back of my neck stand.

I swallow hard, squeezing the wheel. “Where to, boss?” I ask, fighting myself to drain all emotion out of my words. Finally, Jasper meets my gaze in the rearview mirror.

“Dollhouse. The warehouse entrance,” he says, almost hisses. I never was one to believe in energies or vibes, but right at that moment, his energy is as black as his eyes in the dimly lit backseat of the car.

“Pl-please, don’t,” the girl mutters.

I shift into gear and drive, even if everything inside me screams not to. I glance into the rearview mirror more often than I should, seeing Jasper raise his gun to her mouth while shushing.

“What did I say? Do I have to remind you?”

The girl shakes her head rapidly while suppressing her loud, ragged breaths.

Trey next to me pulls out another cigarette and puts it between his lips before opening the window and hanging his arm out. The air rushing in is cold, especially as it touches my skin that feels like it’s on fire. Pinning sensation of discomfort passes through my fingers, so I tighten them more around the wheel until they nearly turn white.

“Why did Gibbs stay behind?” I ask in a hushed voice.

“Hm?” Trey turns to me lazily. “Oh, he’s just doing some…cleaning up,” he says with a chuckle. “He’ll get back on his own when he’s done.”

I nod and don’t ask anything else. I watch the road, staring at the half-empty night streets and the lights that blur and dance in front of me. Desperately, I push all those questions swirling inside my head aside.

What were they doing there?

You know. You know what they did.

What will happen to this girl?

You know she’s not walking away from this.

Against my better judgment, I finally relent after a few minutes of maddeningly silent driving and glance into the rearview mirror again. I’m met with her wide eyes bulging out in fear and filled with tears. They pin me down with their intensity. Raw, desperate anguish pours out into me through her, making my heart hiccup.

Lowering my gaze, I spot Jasper gliding the muzzle of his gun against her skin, from her throat down to her open cleavage, where he slips it under the fabric of her light tank top. Each time she twitches and sobs, he continues shushing her with a calm humming sound, like he’s trying to comfort a baby.

I look away, feeling the food in my stomach rise.

Don’t. Ignore it, I will myself; order myself. There’s nothing I can do. Nothing I could ever do to stop this. I’m just a cog in this machine, an insignificant, small part. In a world where terrible things—even worse than this—happen every minute.

It’s not me in her place. That’s all that matters. That me, Skyler, or Marci are not in her place, and I need to make sure it stays that way by doing my job.

I don’t look in the mirror again. In fact, I only move my neck as much as necessary to get us safely to our destination.

Once I park the car, reversing it into a free space in the corner of the small yard, I stare at the warehouse entrance in front of us. My head is as empty and lifeless as a graveyard, aside from one thought: the moment this girl walks in there, I don’t think she’ll ever leave.

And I took her here.

“Take a break. I’ll call when I need you,” Jasper says, making me snap out of my trance with a sharp blink. I nod, still taking care to not look back. Her face is etched into my mind either way, but I don’t want those feelings to bubble up again.

Both he and Trey get out. Without moving an inch, I sit with my hands on the wheel and watch them drag the girl toward the building. The slight ringing in my ears returns, serving as some sort of fucked up soundtrack.

Snapping my head down, I close my eyes and clench my teeth. “Fuck,” I mutter.

I know what will happen if I stay sitting in this car, suffocating in my own thoughts, so I swiftly step out. Patting at my pockets, I feel for the carton and a lighter. This time, I really need one.

The loading bay at the back doesn’t seem to be used much, so I sit on it and lean against the cold, concrete pillar to the side. Dangling my legs off the edge, I pull out the pack and rest it in my lap, staring at it for a moment before I open it and put a cigarette in my mouth, lighting it.

My chest feels tight. My entire body is tense from pushing these emotions down, but what else is there to do?

With my eyes closed, I draw in the smoke, letting it float around my lungs until I can’t take it anymore and breathe out. Just like this damn job, I need to hold it all in, no matter how uncomfortable, until I’m able to step away from it and let it out. Let it dissipate in the wind.

“Oh.” I hear behind me.

I turn quickly, widening my eyes. I wonder if I’m dreaming for a moment when it’s one of the dolls that I see. And not just any of them.

Hesitantly poking out of the door, he studies me with those deep blue eyes that I didn’t get to see on that stage on my very first day here. Since then, I’ve seen him here and there, mostly when he was going to Jasper’s office late at night.

Wrapped in a thick, fluffy coat, his otherwise otherworldly, perfect face is…haggard now. His gaze is low, cheeks flushed red, and so is his forehead. There are two visible marks on his neck that look pretty unpleasant.

Like he finally shook off his surprise, he closes the door behind him, coming to sit on the loading dock next to me. “Usually, no one comes around here,” he says, sitting down with a tired sigh. He flinches a little while trying to get comfortable.

Some of his waving, longer hairs draping down the sides of his face are sticking to his glistening skin. He wipes them away, revealing his flawless, dewy complexion. I feel stupid for not being able to stop staring. He’s just… beautiful .

His features are symmetrical, aesthetically pleasing perfection, and his bone structure is masculine, but with a certain androgyny to it. Long, curved lashes adorn his eyes. There is something infatuating about his gaze as he turns it to me. In fact, each time we’ve passed each other till now, I’ve been almost afraid to make eye contact with him because of how hypnotizing it is.

“Won’t bother you. Just need a breather,” he adds. There’s a suppressed but undeniable quiver in his voice as he says the last word, bringing back that tension inside me. I quickly swallow and nod, putting my lips to the cigarette again before it goes out.

Why are my cheeks so hot?

He looks like he’s been through the ringer. His pale, slim legs are the only parts of his body poking out of the black jacket he tries to keep himself warm in, and I wonder if he’s hiding more signs of whatever one of those animals did to him.

Some things I’ve seen were…barbaric. I don’t want to think about it.

When I get enough courage to glance at him again, he sits there almost like a ghost, motionlessly staring ahead, shoulders lifting faintly.

A part of me wants to reach out, ask him whether he’s okay. But I know better. From what I gathered, this life isn’t new to him. He is the star of the place. Every time I walk through the Dollhouse, he’s surrounded by people. Surely, he doesn’t need my pity.

Still…after pushing my real self down all day, something inevitably slips through. A small kindness I can’t hold back. Don’t want to hold back.

Moving closer to him, I reach my hand out, presenting him with my open pack of cigarettes. He blinks at me in surprise. “Want one? You…look like you could use it,” I say with a faint smile.