Page 54 of Omega Untamed
I tended to be nosy so I’d gotten bored and gone through everything in the little apartment. Everything he owned. He kept little in the way of possessions, but his computer which was set up in his bedroom and locked, had been easy to override and navigate.
I found he followed a lot of articles and social media on investigations into Myre and his organization. I also discovered he had interests in various things including: baseball, men’s fashion, and of all things, Omega rights. That last one threw me. And told me so much about who I was dealing with. Up until that discovery, I had thought he saw me as a non-entity. Not so much now. If he did think I was pathetic, that was another thing altogether.
I’d also discovered his stash of porn. Typical for an Alpha. Alpha on Omega—pretty young Omegas, of course. But he also had watched ones where the Omega called their Alpha Daddy, and assorted other kinks. None of which I had any objection to.
He seemed the type, though, who’d never played any of that out. So withheld and withdrawn. Not someone comfortable inside himself perhaps.
I took another step toward him. “You are keeping me safe. I’m grateful. But that’s not why I loved what you did. At the door.”
He made no response.
“Kissing me,” I prompted.
Now he glanced away. “Get your things, then. We are leaving.”’
I let out a loud, frustrated breath. “So do you think you were followed or something?” I wasn’t scared. I had come to see Bast as the type who made plans six steps ahead. “You’re one of Myre’s most trusted men. And you told me yourself you were being so careful.”
“I was not followed. Myre has never been here, but he could probably find this place if he wanted to.”
It occurred to me yet again that my presence put Bast in danger. I could have left at any time to face things on my own, but then again, if I were seen, if I were caught, Bast would be in danger as well as it became apparent he did not do his job by following orders to kill me. If I stayed and got caught or if I left and got caught the result would be the same.
With a bag in hand of all the things I’d accumulated while staying in Bast’s apartment, we left in cover of night. It was the first time I’d been out in so long—other than the patio area outside the kitchen—that I breathed deep. The air smelled good, like cool night and dew.
Bast hurried me to his car, his arm around my waist. It felt good. I was safe with him—I instinctively knew it.
I looked to see he had brought nothing but his long coat.
“You aren’t taking anything?” I asked.
“I told you, I’m not staying.”
“You can’t just leave me all alone.” I said it matter-of-factly, but inside I was disappointed.
Bast drove for a long time. I lost track of the minutes. When we were outside the city, smaller suburbs appeared, smaller cities with their lights further apart and their buildings shorter than downtown, like big shrubs on the horizon.
Somewhere past the valleys and hills that surrounded the city, we came upon another area of activity and industry. I didn’t know the name of the sector, but I saw hotels and restaurants, car sale lots and malls. We pulled into the nicest-looking hotel of all, with a drive up valet and a fountain out front.
Bast made me wait until he checked in. When he came back, he quickly got me out, giving his key to the valet, and escorted me into the lobby.
It wasn’t too busy and no one paid any attention to us. My heart sank to realize I would be staying here for an unspecified amount of time. It was luxurious but boring. I knew he would not want me to leave the room, not even to exercise or swim or go to the game room. And especially off-limits were the bars.
He whisked me into an elevator. I stood beside him, breathing him in. Wanting him as I had on the drive all the way here. Needing him. My eyes prickling at the edges to know he would leave me and I desired him. I yearned for that kiss again.
I hated being alone. I’d never been alone my whole life. The streets were my friend. All the people who lived there. All the bar and club-hoppers. I’d grown up in that environment. It was always alive, always dramatic and semi-glamorous. I lived with that noise and other people around me day in and day out. The reprieve from that, and getting off the steam, had been different and even good, but I was lonely.
The elevator doors opened onto an ornate hallway with crystal chandeliers and glass tables by the elevator alcove decorated with vases of flowers. The air smelled of pine cleaning fluids and antiseptic wipes. Everything was spic and span.
The carpet was thick against our footsteps. We did not make a sound as we walked. Bast led me halfway down the hall to a door number 733 and opened it with a key card.
The room smelled as clean as the hall when I stepped into the darkness. Behind me, Bast turned on a main light and there was a couch, a table, easy chairs, and a bed. A microwave sat on a counter by the TV. Everything was done up in peach and blue and pale lavender. It was pretty. A comfortable room. A peaceful room for travelers who want to relax, eat well and sleep well.
“It’s nice.” My voice wavered, soft. I set my small bag on the foot of the bed.
“You will be safe here.” Bast spoke as if he had all the facts to that statement figured out in advance, and knew he was speaking a truth and not speculation.
“I can help pay,” I began. “I have money stashed in a safe deposit box.” It was the only thing a bank allowed an Omega to have without a guardian to co-sign.
“You don’t need to,” Bast said. “I have it.”
