The pager buzzes again, dragging me back to the present. With a growl of frustration, I yank it from my belt and glance at the screen.
Yep. Savva.
I shove the device back into my pocket without responding. I don't need their concern. I don't need anything from anyone.
Except maybe a dark hole to crawl into and never come out.
But Los Angeles doesn't seem to have those. Every inch of this godforsaken city is bathed in light, exposed for all to see.
It's fucking suffocating.
I push off from the wall, my restlessness driving me back into the crowded streets. I need to find somewhere high, somewhere I can look down on this city instead of being crushed by it. Myeyes scan the skyline, landing on a sleek skyscraper that towers above its neighbors.
Perfect.
I make my way toward the building, shouldering past tourists and locals alike. They part before me like water around a rock, their instincts warning them to stay away from the scarred, dangerous-looking alpha in their midst.
I don't pose a damn threat to them.
Well, maybe a few.
Lots of shitheads here, I'm sure.
The lobby of the skyscraper is all polished marble and gleaming chrome. I stride toward the elevators, my combat boots echoing in the cavernous space. A security guard eyes me warily, but I ignore him.
I've got one goal.
Get to the top and find some peace.
Even if it's just for a few minutes.
But as I reach for the elevator button, a thin, reedy voice stops me.
"Excuse me, sir? Do you have a pass?"
I turn slowly, fixing the source of the voice. The receptionist, a beta male with glasses thicker than his hair, shrinks back in his chair. He's already sweating.
"A pass?" I growl, my voice low and gravelly.
He swallows hard, Adam's apple bobbing. "Y-yes, sir. This is a private building. You need a pass to access the upper floors."
For a moment, I consider intimidating him into letting me up. It would be easy. One step forward, a flash of teeth, maybe a low growl... he'd probably piss himself and give me whatever I wanted.
But I'm tired.
So fucking tired of being the monster everyone expects me to be.
Instead, I turn on my heel and storm out, my lips pulled back in a snarl of frustration. As the glass doors swing shut behind me, I catch a glimpse of the receptionist's face, pale and shaken.
Just another person I've terrified today.
Another tally in the "Cole is a monster" column.
The pager buzzes again, more insistent this time. I rip it from my belt and hurl it against the nearest wall, watching with grim satisfaction as it shatters into pieces.
Fuck Savva. Fuck Roman.
Fuck this whole goddamn pack and their false concern and their mission and their bullshit and…