Page 5 of The Alpha: Part Two
I stare at him for a long minute before I answer. “Do you really need to ask?”
“She needs to learn her place.”
I shake my head. “Not like that. It will never be a good thing now, Ernesto. She will never come to us willingly.”
He sighs again. “She was never going to.”
I leave him to deal with the mess of the dining room on his own. I want the solace of my own room. I want to lay on my bed in the dark and imagine what it might be like if Desir’ee was actually my omega. What it might be like if I had the comfort of an omega. I’ve never had that. I’ve never tried to sample that experience from any of the omegas I’ve been with in my lifetime. They were always a means to an end, or I was for them. There was never any of the soft comforts I long for. And Ernesto’s actions tonight have ensured that I will never have them.
I walk past Desir’ee’s door on the way to my own room. I’m assaulted by the sounds of sobbing and the smell of sick. We did that. We are responsible for her misery. I have had the heaviest and most direct hand in what she is suffering through. I wanted an omega, needed an omega. I have wanted my own omega for as long as I can remember. And now that I have access to one, one who was supposed to be mine, all I can give her is hardship and hurt.
Pausing in front of her door, I’m tempted to knock. My gut reaction to hearing her discomfort is to try to fix it, but what would be the point? Any chance of her not hating us for the rest of our lives has been destroyed. The best thing I can do for her is leave her alone.
Later in the night, I wake to the sound of her crying still filtering down the hall. This can’t continue. I can’t let this happen. I’ve come close to ending things with Ernesto before, but it’s never been like this. Any respect for him that I was still clinging to has crumbled when he took a marked omega when he has access to so many others. I might not have the reach and power to stop his operations, but I can sever my bond with him. And I’m damn sure going to try to get Desir’ee out of here. He can’t have her. She deserves to be happy. If I can get the twins out of Backhouse without Ernesto noticing, I will; but Desir’ee will be saved from this life.
Chapter five
Ben
I can smell Michael in the fibers of the mat. I’ve been feeling his tug sporadically, weakly, ever since they brought me to this place. I thought they would have killed us by now, but they haven’t. Not yet anyway. They want to make as much money off of us as they can before they kill us. I’d laugh about the fact that our debt is for sure paid off now if I could bring myself to make that sound.
I wonder if Michael knows I’m alive. Or if Desie knows. Michael probably doesn’t. Might think I’m dead, they sure as shit made it look and sound like they killed me. I couldn’t hear properly for a long while after that gun shot. As far as Desie goes, Lopez is probably using me and Michael to keep her nice and cooperative. I have to be very careful to not let myself imagine too much of what that cooperation might include. If I ever get out of here, I’m going to rip that motherfucker apart with my bare hands.
I can’t tell days from nights. There’s no way to know. Food comes at odd intervals, and the only way I can measure time passing is how long it usually takes me to heal after a fight…and that’s taking longer than it should. I’m getting the shit kicked out of me on the regular. Doing the fights alone is so different from fighting beside Michael. Harder. I can take a punch and I can handle myself against some wild odds, but I’m wearing down. I can feel it.
The door to my cell opens and Lopez walks in. He doesn’t look like his usual smarmy self. He looks tired. Pinched. Good. I hope his day is a shit sandwich. He walks over and sits on the stool in the corner, leaning his head against the wall. “Do you have many regrets in your life, Benjamin?”
“I regret meeting you.”
He cuts a look at me. “I’m sure you do. I have many regrets, and recently it seems like they grow in number every day. I didn’t intend for my life to turn out the way it has.”
What is happening right now? He came down here to have a heart to heart with me? What the fuck? I just look at him and wait for him to keep talking. Maybe something useful will come of it.
Lopez sighs, the heavy sound of it bouncing off the walls. “When people lose sight of their purpose, things get messy. I’m too old to be standing covered in gasoline while it all burns down. When I began this journey, there was a set goal; but somewhere along the path the goal was sullied and the intention behind it blurred into something it was never supposed to be. Have you had much disappointment in your lifetime?”
He smiles and answers his own question. “Of course you have. First with Rafe, then your parents, and now all of this. You never had a chance, did you? And I’m to blame because I let what happened with Rafe slide. Flores assured me that it wasn’t intentional, he even believed that at the time, but now neither of us are sure.”
What am I supposed to say? How could I possibly form a response to that? Yes, I’ve been disappointed, but I never even considered the possibility that Lopez was really responsible for what happened to Rafe. Anger and sorrow come boiling to the surface again at the thought of Rafe and what our lives were supposed to be.
“What would you do, Benjamin, if I left that door unlocked when I left?”
A trick. Some kind of trick to get me to betray my brother or Desie. It has to be.
“Tell me,” he repeats. “What would you do?”
Fuck it. I look him straight in the eye. “Start killing people. Kill every single motherfucker between me and my brother, then we’d kill our way to Desie. Then we’d disappear.”
Lopez smiles then. It’s condescending, but I think that’s more because that’s just what his face looks like than any effort he’s putting into it. “You think Michael is alive?”
I don’t answer him.
“It must be the twin thing,” he says, but doesn’t elaborate. That’s what it is. He’s come down here to try to torture me with hope. The problem with torturing me with hope, though, is that I don’t have any. I can’t afford it.
He sighs again. “I’ve always liked you more than your brother. You have a better personality. If Rafe had lived, the three of you would have been a solid pack. A formidable one. And Desir’ee Romero would have been the perfect omega for you.”
He gets back to his feet and looks down at me. I haven’t moved from the cot on the floor this entire time. “I have a few things to consider. There will be no more fights for a while.” Then he leaves.
What the actual fuck was that about?
