Page 2 of Cost of Courting

Rain lets out a piercing shriek that wakes the kitten up with a start. As soon as he sees Rain, he mewls and tries to bust open the carry cage.

I’ve never seen two youngsters so enamoured with each other.

I wave as the two of them and Wolfie disappear.

“So, who’s the guy?” I ask before Luna can disappear.

She slides off the counter, pulls open the fridge, grabbing the leftovers and eating it standing over the sink. She scratches the back of her leg with the one delicate foot and moans.

“Gosh, this is so good, Selene.”

“Uh-uh. Don’t change the subject.”

I stand up and sanitise all the syringes and clean up the table. But I’m waiting anxiously for Luna’s information. I do not want to deal with her boyfriends. Not right now.

“Just an alpha I met, but he’s different. He’s really nice, gentle, good looking, and he’s really, really rich. Just imagine if I get with him, we can move out of this shitty neighbourhood.”

I turn back to her, grinding my molars. She doesn’t understand this place. This is where I belong. This is where I’m needed. There’s no escaping this place. Not for me.

“I have to get ready for work.” I pop the fridge closed and turn the light back off, already dismissing Luna’s new boyfriend from my mind.

Luna throws her bowl into the sink and disappears into the back of the house. It creaks, letting me know her exact location. With a sigh, I wash her dishes and stare out the window at the house across the road. It’s empty but someone bought it. There has been a truck and movers parked in front on and off all day. I don’t want anyone to live there.

That house is mine. It should be mine.

“Hey, Moon Goddess!” Luna calls loudly. I wince, annoyed at the nickname.

Our parents named us both after the moon, but we couldn’t be more different. Luna is happy-go-lucky, roll with the punches. She is easily frightened and lured. She isn’t fragile, but she’s not built to survive this world either.

Maybe it would be a good thing if an alpha could take her away from all this. Still, I have gone a bit overboard protecting her. She’s selfish and vain, not in a mean way but in a clueless way.

I, on the other hand, am grounded in reality. I think and plot and plan. Hard work is something that I enjoy, and it takes a lot to scare me. I was born to live in a place like this. Whatever dreams I had died years ago, and now I make the best of a shitty hand and give as much as I can to make other people happy.

“You need to buy me a new pair of jeans!”

With a low growl, I decide to ignore her. I bought her jeans two weeks ago.

I walk out of the house and stand in the dry air. Summer is ending, but the heat of the day still warms the nights. The houses on this street are rough with flaking paint, weeds in gardens, couches on porches, and damage that has been hastily mended everywhere. But this place has been our home since Dad used the last of his savings to buy it.

Across the road, the moving truck pulls up. I’ve been watching it all day, dreaming about blowing it up. It’s loud, and the delivery guys are strangers. I don’t like strangers. I don’t know who has moved in there, but we’re all curious what type of person it is. We’ve had difficult people move in here before, people who come and want to change things or bully the rest of us.

I’m wondering what kind of fight I have on my hands.

Who are they?

For one ridiculous and breathless second, I wonder if it’s them. Have they come back? Hope, the evil, treacherous emotion, rises like a phoenix from the ashes of my heart and promptly dies again because no one who leaves here comes back.

I turn and go back inside, shutting the door that has no locks and going into my bathroom. It doesn’t take me long to get ready. I tie my long hair in a ponytail and plait it, pull on a singlet, leather jacket, and my faded jeans. My favourite boots, knife, and rings are added last. The final touch is a smokey eyeliner and cherry-coloured lip gloss.

“See ya in a few hours, Luna.”

I don’t get a reply, but I seldom do. In minutes, I’m walking quickly up the street, heading for the local pub where I’ll serve drinks, clean, and count the minutes until I can go home.

It’s boring, mindless work, but the job has been mine forever, and it’s a reliable income that allows me freedom.

I walk in and wave to my boss, Kent. He’s a big-armed guy, the kind where they are so overly muscled they look cartoonish, but he’s a decent sort. Likes amateur fights on the weekends and has an omega and two kids to her. He’s got a thick head of russet hair and an almost grey beard.

He’s honest and fair. Two traits that are rare down here. Two traits that make it possible for me to work here peacefully.

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