Page 9 of Fallen Omega

“No!”

“Word’s out about the Council. And you clean some places where, at night, things might get…complicated.”

“I need the money, Mr. Gambon.” The panic’s back, claws deep. “Please.”

“Sorry. My hands are tied. Good luck, kid.”

Even though I’m sitting, I crumple. I can’t lose my last job. I have a month here as I just paid rent, but when it’s up? And I need those pills.

“Oh, Dad,” I whisper. “How am I going to do this without you? We didn’t even prepare…”

Because he was strong and healthy and the accident—not an accident, my brain whispers—took him suddenly. And now…now I’m scrambling in the mud.

I pour a second drink and then another. Then I pour one more into the wine glass and head into the kitchen to take stock.

There isn’t much in there. Emergency canned soup and pasta sauces. Canned tuna. Rice. Pasta. Ramen. A couple of onions and sweet potatoes.

The perishables in the fridge will go first, but if I’m smart, frugal, I can do it. Get through without spending much.

When the heat’s over, I?—

The Council.

I’m going to have to move. Run. Hide.

I can’t work here. Maybe I can find another job somewhere else. Somewhere I can disappear. Somewhere, I think, like Starlight City.

But first, I need to get those damn pills, and if I leave it any longer, it’ll be dark out again.

I down the drink, grab my coat, and tie my hair back.

One thing I know for certain: I’m not marrying Craig Edmonton.

“I wouldn’t.”

The voice is a different deep to the man in the car. This is full of darkness and there’s an edge I don’t know what to do with, an edge that makes me uneasy.

Then again, strangers always have.

The Hollows are about five blocks over. I turn. He’s in the shadows of an abandoned building’s doorway, but I can smell him.

He’s dark. Like rum, bittersweet chocolate, coffee, a hint of smoke. He’s delicious smelling, mysterious, and I can see him being touted as intoxicating, but not to me, not like that man. I can see other omegas, other women losing their shit over this one but the hype is overrated.

Whoever he is, he’s an alpha—the darkness seems to hold the same power as the alpha from the car. I can feel it, and it makes me edgy in a way I really don’t like.

I don’t trust him.

This isn’t about attraction or my oncoming heat. It’s just him.

I don’t like him…

“Wouldn’t what?” I ask because I can’t help myself.

He moves his head and dark blond glints as some light hits him, and I can see a tall, strong man. Good looking. But he’s mostly in the shadows.

“Wouldn’t go where you’re going. The Hollows. Word’s out that the Council’s got its eye onyou.”

I frown. “I don’t talk to strangers.”

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