Page 29 of Omega Untamed
“That’s all? Having that attitude almost got you killed.”
Kee threw back his head. “Are you one of those people who blames the victim?”
“If the victim is at fault, then, yes.”
“Think you’re such a badass Alpha.” The words came mumbled, but I heard them loud and clear.
“Curb your behavior or you’ll find out.”
He let out a loud laugh that threatened to curdle the air. “I have been finding out about bad Alphas since I was fourteen.”
“You think you can handle yourself.”
A shrug. “Didn’t care much. But yeah. Figured I was headed for a short life anyway.”
“The information I have on you says you’re twenty-five, so yes, I’d say that’s a short life-span.”
“I may be twenty-five, but I don’t look a day over twenty-three.” He laughed at his own quip.
Kee had the kind of laugh that held an inner echo, like emptiness existed behind it on the verge of encompassing him. I almost asked him how he came to be on the streets, where he originated from. But I stopped myself. I didn’t need to know anything about him. I just needed to keep him hidden and out of trouble until I squared some things with Sam. Maybe six more months and Myre would be out of the way.
Right now, six months seemed like a lifetime.
Chapter Nine
Kee
“Ta-da!” I lay back on the living room couch and tossed the fist-sized rubber ball into the air and caught it over and over in my good hand.
It was late evening now.
Cooking smells and sizzling sounds came from the kitchen. Hamburger. The scent of pre-packaged rolls in the oven. At the moment, it looked like Bast wanted to cook for me. Fine with me.
I’d found the ball on a table by the couch, and when I lay back I saw the side wall was dotted with little black marks where the ball had been thrown against it a hundred or maybe a thousand times. I tried to imagine Bast lying here on the couch and tossing the ball, bored or pissed. It was so funny to think an Alpha like that, so controlled, practically emotionless, would be reduced to such a silly, childish habit.
My stomach growled. I could definitely eat now that I’d slept. What I really wanted was a hit of steam. Just a small one.
But my life as I knew it was over. Damn, this was not going to be fun. I tossed the ball harder, higher and missed it. It landed on the glass coffee table with a loud crack, knocking over a dusty red glass candle holder that had no candle in it.
I sat up. The coffee table and holder were intact.
Bast came into the kitchen doorway, frowning.
“Don’t worry.” I slid off the couch until my butt hit the floor and grabbed up the ball, holding it up. “Nothing’s broken.”
“Dinner is ready.”
I stood up, wincing at my sore toe, and wandered into the kitchen. I still had no shirt and only the thin pants, but if Bast didn’t care, then neither would I.
There was a dingy table by a window that looked out on a dirty white wall. There were two chairs. Bast had set two plates and some cutlery there, so I sat.
He brought the skillet over to the table and dumped a burger patty onto my plate, and pointed out the mustard and ketchup. Then he put a plate of rolls and some butter in the center.
I looked around me. The kitchen was white with forest green countertops, clean but old-looking. The floor was worn, white tile. The window had cobwebs around the edges.
I helped myself to a roll, split it open and doused it with butter. It smelled heavenly. When I took a bite, it was as if my body absorbed it and I barely had to chew it.
When Bast sat down with his own plate of food, I studied him a little further. Diamonds on both pinkies. Dark garments that looked tailored, maybe even designer labeled. Hair perfect and greased back save a few curls at the ends. He looked like a lot of Alphas: fit, healthy and superior in his haughty expression.
