Page 28 of In Knots

I read him out the name.

“OK, I know where that is. I’ll be 15 minutes, princess. That’s all. Stay by that shop so I can find you.”

“I-I’m all on my own out here.”

“I’m going to hang up and get Buzz to call you right back. I want you to stay on the line until I come get you.”

“OK,” I whisper, not wanting him to go.

“Princess, you’re going to be just fine. I’ll see you soon.” The line goes dead and I suddenly feel so alone it’s like my insides have been hollowed and fear starts to infiltrate me instead.

A lone omega and here on this empty street. I’m prey to any passing predator. I have no weapon to defend myself. Not even a set of keys in my bag.

My phone buzzes in my hand and I accept the call.

“Alexa?” Buzz’s deep voice sounds full of concern and my eyes well again.

“I’m here.”

“Good. Good girl. Ryan’s on his way. He’s already left. He’ll be there before you know.”

“OK.”

Another pause. I screw up my eyes and hope he doesn’t ask me about tonight. I don’t want to talk about it.

“So you’re outsideInkjection, huh?”

“Yes.”

“Did Ryan ever tell you about the first time he got a tattoo?”

“No.”

“Ha, no fucking surprise there. We were fifteen. Not strictly allowed to get one. But we all had fake IDs and he’s a fucking alpha, huge, so he could pass as older. He booked a consult, spent ages on the design. The dragon thing he has on his chest.” I remember the one, starting on his right shoulder and stretching over his pec and down his arm. All shimmering scales and flowing movement. Like something alive. “He went on and on about the fucking thing for days. Flashing that design around to anyone who’d give him half a minute. He was so up himself because he was the first one of us to get ink and a fucking impressive one too. So, the day arrives and he drags us all down to watch. Wants an audience so he can show us all what a hard man is. You still there, Omega?”

“Yes, I’m here. So, what happened?”

“He took one look at that needle and all the colour drained from his face. I’ve never seen someone look so ill. We kept asking him: you OK, Ryan? And he kept insisting he was fine, even though he was turning greener and greener. The artist dude had barely completely the first fucking line and Ryan passed out. Slumped right back and fainted.” Buzz chuckles loudly down the phone. “Took him another year before he actually got that damn tattoo completed.”

“Why did he bother if it made him sick?”

“Ahhh, baby, you know all about alpha bullshit. You think his pride would let him just quit. His pride was wounded. He took a serious amount of abuse for that little episode. He had to prove to everyone he wasn’t a pussy. You got any tattoos, baby?”

“No.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think so.”

“Does it really hurt that much.”

“Yep. But don’t tell Ryan I told you that.” He chuckles again and I can’t help smiling a little.

“Thank you,” I tell him.

“For what?”

“Keeping me company. I feel less afraid when you’re talking to me.”

“That’s what I figured. My grandpa got cancer a couple of years back. He used to take one of us along with him to the chemo and just get us to chat to him. He said there was nothing worse that you could do to a man than leave him alone with his dark thoughts.”