Page 6 of Heat & Deceit
Kiki grins. “That’s my girl. Fuck those dick bags.” An awkward silence falls between us. She sighs and glances around. “Well...there’s a phone on the couch, and you’re taking it. I’ll do some digging and find a dealer who’s not super shady. Deal?”
“Okay.”
“Can I hug you?” Her eyebrows lift, eyes filling with hope. She’s so affectionate and so unlike any omega I’ve ever been around.
“Um.” I press my lips together. There’s nothing wrong with hugs. In fact, I used to love them, but after everything, I’m not sure I still enjoy them. I search her face. She’s patiently waiting for me to decide. She’s helped me. It’s only Kiki. She won’t hurt me. Finally, I nod.
Slowly, she closes the distance and eases me into a light hug. “I’m so happy you’re okay.”
Those words hit me in the chest. All I feel is relief as she holds me. It’s been so long since I’ve had a hug like this. She pulls back and breezes out of the apartment before I can get too sappy.
Without her, the apartment is strangely silent, and I take a breath, letting the tension slowly fade away until I find myself in a strange sort of peace. I’m alone.
And maybe that’s for the best.
* * *
The first three weeks of my freedom fly by. Between training at my new job and exploring the big city of Museton in my free time, I’ve started to settle into a routine. Life outside of rehab isn’t as hard as I thought it would be, probably because I’m not surrounded by drugs at any given second. That’s about to change. My suppressants are running out, and while I’ve lost myself a bit in the fake identity these past weeks, knowing I need to get more reminds me that it’s all pretend.
I stare at the door in front of me and glance back at my phone to check the address Kiki sent. This is the place. It’s not at all what I expected. The neighborhood is nice, lined with office buildings and trendy restaurants. The streetlights are all working. The air is fresh and clean. Whoever this dealer is, they obviously do very well for themselves.
Tucking my phone back into my purse, I straighten my shoulders and push through the door. There’s a beta at the reception desk, who looks up as I approach. One perfectly plucked eyebrow lifts higher and higher, gaze sweeping from my knockoff combat boots up to my bust and then my face. I don’t usually take offense to people staring at my tits—they’re just so there—but something about the way it’s done now makes me bristle.
“Can I help you?” a high-pitched, falsely sweet voice asks as those judgmental eyes sweep over me once more.
“I’m here to see...” I pause for a second. What’s the guy’s name again? “Mr. Gray.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Yes,” I say firmly, glancing around the somewhat plain reception area. Beige walls lined with nondescript hardback chairs. Basic tile. Nothing fancy. Everything here has been deliberately placed to make it appear like a legitimate business. There’s even a fake logo hanging on the wall behind this beta, a daisy painted with broad strokes.
“I think you have the wrong place.” The beta turns back to her computer.
“I have the right place,” I say, infusing as much patience as I can into my tone. “I’m here to see Mr. Gray.”
The beta glances at me. “The answer is n—”
“Lain.” A sharp, scolding voice that’s deep and rich, like a top-shelf scotch, is followed by the appearance of an alpha built like the gods sculpted him. Dark skin. Muscle. Gleaming teeth. Icy blue eyes. He’s bald, but it suits him; his skull is somehow perfectly shaped. The suit he’s wearing is cut to perfection, showcasing how strong he is and how much money he has. His eyes are on the beta, and a frown furrows into his features the longer he stares her down. “Is there a problem?”
“Mr. Gray,” Lain says with a breathy laugh, unfazed by his disapproval. “I was about to call you.”
He gives her a look that says he doesn’t believe her, and then his attention fixes on me. His features transform, smoothing and softening, and he shoots a breathtaking smile at me. “I’m sorry about that.” Unlike when he spoke to her, his tone is gentle, slicing through my confidence with one broad stroke of charm and kindness. He moves out from behind the desk and extends his big hand. “I’m Mr. Gray.”
“Carmine,” I respond, still hating the way the fake name sounds.
“Pleasure to meet you.”
It’s all a ruse, I remind myself as I take his hand, ignoring the tiny spark of electricity and the way my heart rate accelerates. His freshly cracked pepper and lemony scent hits me, no trace of omega coating it. Judging by his demeanor and the soft lines around his mouth as he grins, he’s only a few years older than my twenty-four years. He’s charming. Good looking. Well off. It’s unusual for alphas his age to be unmated. What’s an alpha like him doing without an omega?
Who cares? You’re here for the heat suppressants, and that’s it.
Thank fuck I slathered on scent-suppressing lotion earlier. I’m somewhere between terrified and confused, and I don’t need him reading my scent. I yank my hand away as soon as it’s socially acceptable and tuck it behind my back to hide the fact that I’m trembling.
Aside from the Hell Hounds, it’s been a long time since I’ve been around an alpha who didn’t take something from me. It takes a moment for me to recover from the direct address, and Mr. Gray’s gaze flickers over my face, the lines on his forehead deepening. Right. I’m making it awkward. Remembering my purpose, I draw in a breath and slowly release it. I can swallow whatever discomfort I’m feeling to get more suppressants, and maybe the fact that he’s an alpha will distract me from thinking about the other things he might be selling.
“It’s okay. I’m here to talk about my retirement planning,” I finally manage, using the code Kiki sent me.
“Yes, of course.” He looks at Lain, who’s scowling at me, and narrows his eyes. “Do you mind giving me a second?” He gestures to the receptionist.
