Page 8 of Claiming the Pack's Omega
“The boss?—”
I send a glare up at Frankie’s guard dog of an alpha and he freezes.
“I’m going in,” I growl, throwing open the door.
Frankie nearly jumps up from his desk. “What the fuck, Raine!”
“Obsidian won. I want my cut. And fucking hazard pay, a stupid beta just choked me out on your floor and Obsidian out of all fucking people was the one to stop him. Bet Dominic wouldn’t wanna hear about how you’re letting one of his favorite girls get roughed up under your fucking watch.”
His eyes go wide at my rant, but surprisingly, he turns to start opening the safe in the corner of the room.
“How much on top of the fifteen hundred to keep that neck of yours covered and your mouth shut.”
“Another five hundred and the rest of the night off.” My eyes dart around the room almost wildly. I can’t stay here any longer. I need to go back home.
“Fine,” Frankie grumbles, throwing a few stacks of cash on the table.
I don’t even take the time to count it before I grab it and practically bolt out of his office.
I let out a bitter laugh as I make my way down the hall and to the dressing room. It’s either laugh or cry.
I got these older bruises around my neck for five hundred too. Dominic has a rule about no bruises.
But there was a stupid dark green-eyed alpha with a big mouth and a general energy that screamed douchebag who I got on my back for last weekend. He wanted to choke me. And apparently, I can’t fucking say no to money.
Even if it means being scared that I’m going to die.
The dressing room is empty. Thank god. I don’t know if I could handle Lulu’s jealous bitchiness. Or Peaches’ kind concern. Either of those would make me lose my shit.
I grab my stuff, only bothering to put on my hoodie before I head out the back and to my beater of a car. It’s only a year younger than I am. Only reason why it’s still working at twenty-three years old is ‘cause of how well my dad knows his way around an engine.
My heart is racing so quick I don’t even feel the chill in the air, even though it’s so cold outside that there’s frost on the ground.
I throw myself into the front seat of my car, letting the silence around me sink into my bones. I rest my forehead against the steering wheel and fight the urge to cry.
Why do I do this to myself? Why do I put myself in these situations? Work these sorts of jobs?
I feel cheap. Dirty. Weak.
My phone buzzes from my bag and I take a deep breath, grabbing for it blindly.
My phone screen flashes in my face.
2:30AM
Mom
Sorry to bother you while you’re at work, sweetie, but Daisy seems to have a stomach bug. She’s all feverish. Could you grab some medicine on your way back from work?
Oh.
That’s why.
Reyna
of course, mom. actually got off work early tonight, so I’ll be home soon
Mom
