Page 7 of Omega Chattel
I drank down my ice water as we waited for the food and drinks.
Tarin watched me, one sleek, dark eyebrow cocked. His eyes really were remarkable, the color of fresh pool water in sunlight, a wonderfully lighter contrast to his dark brown hair.
“Tell me what you’re doing out there in the Trenches when you’re obviously smarter than that.”
For a moment, I thought:None of your business.
But when he called me smart, I stopped the thought. Something about him—force, brawn, intensity all combined even when I first glimpsed him on the dusty corners talking to the rent boys—was already crashing through my defenses like he deserved to have whatever he asked for. Including my thoughts.
Before I knew it, words poured from my mouth. I tried to keep my tone clipped, flat, but my breaths were coming faster and faster as I told him about my teen years, being pestered and tormented by a house-dad who hated me, who tied up my cock, and then finding out he was raping some boys and how if I told, I’d be institutionalized. Same if I fought back. The house-dad had all the power, but with no responsibility for it or us.
“I hated him. He was going to send me to an institution. Or I’d have a life of janitor duty at the farm and never meet an Alpha ever! I couldn’t stay!” I realized my voice came out hard and defensive. “I’d rather starve on the streets than go to a loony bin.”
“That sounds tough,” he said quietly.
“Doesn’t every kid on the street have a sob story?” I asked.
“Sure. A lot of people not on the streets as well,” he replied.
I nervously chewed my lower lip but did not look away. “Yeah, well.”
“I say that not to diminish your experience. Just pointing it out.”
I nodded tightly, and was proud I didn’t feel any tears. Not that I wasn’t above crying to get sympathy. But the real tears—I didn’t want him to see the real tears.
When the food came, I couldn’t believe how good it smelled. The burger fresh and hot and still sizzling, the fries smothered in beanless chili with melted cheese on top.
I dived in and my saliva glands instantly flooded my mouth, dissolving the food so fast I practically drank it.
“Slow down,” Tarin said. His voice broke through my calorie high, soft but firm.
I gulped down the bite in my mouth and picked up my drink. The sweetness flowed through me. Lemon-lime. How did he know it was my favorite?
All I remembered about the rest of the meal was an overwhelming need to fill my belly, along with a heavy, dark presence before me who I now thought of as my rescuer, my savior. A neediness for more than food came over me and I was scared that after the meal, this would all end. He would go away and leave me behind.
I wanted to latch myself to him somehow, follow him home like a wayward stray. I actually had the thought I’d sit on the steps of his house if I had to, night and day through rain and heat, and wait for him to see my worth.
Damn it, I was stronger than that.
Tarin ate his own burger at a leisurely pace. I sat very still, my food all gone, and it felt like I was waiting for my life to end. I wanted to linger, prolong the inevitable, for I knew after we were done, Tarin would drive away. Maybe he’d give me some money; I wasn’t sure. But of course he had better things to do than worry about me. I was an adult now—well, as of tomorrow officially—and I needed to deal as an adult and learn to take care of myself.
But Omegas had everything going against them in this world. We couldn’t hold down anything but menial jobs that offered few if any benefits unless we paid to learn a trade, and none of us had money. Even then, we couldn’t have bank accounts unless we had guardians and those services didn’t come cheap. Everything was stacked against us if we were single and unbonded.
The waiter brought me another lemon-lime soda, and I sipped it slowly, flicking my eyes up and down, watching Tarin without trying to look like I was staring at him, assessing his mannerisms, the way he chewed his food, how he swallowed slowly so his Adam’s apple bobbed enticingly.
He was big and I couldn’t help but wonder what it might feel like to have his tall, muscular body wrapped around me, encasing me, tightening so I couldn’t be free even if I wanted to.
I’d be dead if I said it didn’t intrigue me. He was handsome and did not hesitate to tell me what to do, what to order off the menu, or how wrong I might be in assuming he even wanted an Omega boy right now.
But he’d plucked me up as if, despite my Omega status, I was worthy at least of having a decent meal. He’d led and I’d followed like I’d been trained to do. The thought of that made me a little angry and a little relieved at the same time. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t lost. But I also wanted him to see I wasn’t some pushover Omega farm boy.
As he swallowed the last French fry from his plate, and sipped the iced dregs of his cola, I felt my eyes grow warm. It was all ending too quickly. The little meal in the stupid restaurant with a country barn motif was going to be but a memory and I would no doubt soon be back in my alley sitting up all night huddled against my backpack trying to stay warm.
I inhaled sharply.
Tarin glanced sharply at me, but his eyes softened. “Did you want dessert?”
It was too much. I was already over-full, but I didn’t want to leave yet. I nodded.
