Page 6 of Such a Sweet Omega

“I understand. Let me walk you out.”

“Someone might think you did this to me,” I joked as we strolled out of his office and down the hallway.

“They know better. I’m a healer. I would never harm an omega.” He made sure he had eye contact with me before continuing. “I would never hurt you, Beale. Not in a million years.”

“Thank you. I-I’ll be fine from here.”

“Are you sure? I can call you a ride. Did you drive?”

“No. I’ll walk. I walked here. Thanks for everything.”

I put my arms into the coat he held out for me and put my phone in my pocket quickly, not wanting him to see that my phone was almost as outdated as my car. “Good night, Jabez.”

“Good night, Beale. Sweet dreams.”

Chapter Five

Jabez

That omega in the motel occupied the parts of my brain that Beale did not. I was having nightmares about the birth, illustrating how right I was to avoid that aspect of medicine whenever possible, but I had to also think that my strong attraction to the omega was kind of cross-wiring in my thoughts.

It had been a long time since I had any kind of a strong reaction to an omega—since my late mate, in fact. And that was scaring the pants off me. We just met, and I shouldn’t be reacting like this to a virtual stranger.

Sitting behind my desk in the executive hallway at Cuffed, I toyed with the electric-blue fidget spinner one of my young patients had given me as a thank-you for helping him through a rare virus. Shifters had so few contagious diseases, and the act of shifting could heal most injuries. But our young were more susceptible to those illnesses and in many cases unable to shift until adolescence.

Fortunately, the little guy made it, and so did the baby I delivered at that motel.

Right after I told him about the home where he and his little one would be able to go and be safe, Rally convulsed. I had to get that baby out of there fast, and surgery would not be my very last option in this place where sanitation was far from optimal. It was bad enough having to use their towels and sheets at all, and what I had in my bag was minimal. If I had to cut the baby out, the father would not be able to shift for at least twenty-four hours, which would give plenty of time for sepsis to set in.

“Ouro,” I said to his friend who had just come back in from the bathroom. “I’m going to need you.”

I gave him instructions, and we gathered all the towels from the bathroom—both of them—threadbare, though they might be, and I got ready to use everything I had to get that baby safely out of the omega. “Rally.” I shook the limp omega’s shoulder, a firm jerk that had his buddy ready to protest. “I have to do this, Ouro. I cannot deliver the baby without his help, and yours, okay?”

Ouro was pale, hands shaking, but he went to work to do the things I asked. The first thing was waking the laboring daddy. “Rally, you have to wake up,” he said, patting his friend’s cheeks. “Or you are going to die. Just when we found somewhere to go off the streets. It’s not fair to let your baby pass just because you can’t be bothered to open your eyes.” He spoke with urgency, close to the other omega’s ear, and I let them have at it while I did my job getting ready. I spread the towels under his hips and waited for the next pain, hoping it would not send him into another seizure. It was too late to do anything about elevated blood pressure. Only the birth could save them both.

I massaged his belly, hoping to get the contractions going again. They seemed to have stopped when he convulsed, not terribly uncommon in shifter births according to my mentor. He thought I had a gift with this aspect of our work, and I had been specializing when tragedy sent me on a different trajectory.

How could I possibly mate with anyone else, not that Beale was asking me to. But life was so precious and fragile. If I mated with someone—anyone—and they got pregnant, it would be my fault if it ended badly. I knew too well what that was like.

Shaking the memories away, I poured a whiskey and sat back to drink it. Not to get drunk. My shifter system required a lot more than one double shot for that, and as a healer, I could be called out at any time to help someone. Incapacitation was not an option.

I picked up my phone and stared at it. As the club healer, it was almost my duty to check in with Beale and make surehe hadn’t been suffering any symptoms from his evening at the club. I hated that he might not want to return based on an experience with one bad apple. An apple that would no longer be hanging from any branches on the Cuffed tree.

While the omega’s phone rang, once, twice, three times, I tried not to realize how ridiculous my thoughts were. It was better than the despair and fear of the nightmares I had.

“Hello.” His voice sounded good.

“Hi, Beale. This is Jabez.” Which of course he knew, since we’d exchanged numbers in the phones. “Just checking in to see how you’re doing.”

“That’s nice of you,” he said.

I waited for more, but it was quiet on the other end. “Well, after your experience here, I was concerned. I’m the healer, after all.”

“Yes, you mentioned that.” Another moment of silence, followed by, “But I’m perfectly fine, really.” Which I might have believed if his voice hadn’t cracked on the word fine. He was lying to me. Which tensed every muscle in my body.

“Are you sure?” I toyed with the pen that had been on my desk since I last saw him. “Because it’s fine to admit if you’re not.”

“No, I am.”

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