Page 88 of Stolen Omega

I look up to see a guy in chef’s whites stomping out of an open doorway, toward me.

Ah, shit. Here’s where I get told I shouldn’t be hanging around out here.

“Me?” I ask, pointing at my chest.

“Yes, you,” he scoffs, motioning around. “Who the hell else is out here?”

I guess no one. I shrug, and he shakes his head at me.

“Get in the kitchen and help with the service tables, would ya? What do we pay you guys for anyway?” He motions to me to follow him, and I decide my waiter-like outfit was probably a smart call even if I didn’t know it when I bought it.

“Um, what did you …” I ask as I step into the kitchen behind him.

There are another three guys dressed like I am, two of whom are picking up what must be a service table. The other looks at me and frowns.

“You’re not Derek.”

“Derek’s out sick,” I lie, not really caring if he believes me.

His frown fades. “You’re an Alpha.”

“My dad runs the company,” I tell him, not really sure how long I want to keep up this pretense. “I said I’d come and help, so treat me like a rookie. I don’t do this a lot.”

He seems surprised, but he doesn’t keep asking questions. “Okay, sure. We’re moving the tables out to the side of the dance floor. Then we’re putting out the food and drink. Grab that end. I’ll lead the way.”

I do what I’m told, and I observe the dance floor when we’re setting the table up. There aren’t that many kids here yet. Most of them are standing around in groups or sitting at the tables near the entrance to the hall. The DJ looks bored up on the stage. The music coming out of his system is unfamiliar and vaguely annoying. Lots of soft, breathy lyrics broken up by fast rapping with blanked out curses all over the place. One kid is nodding along to what’s on the speakers, but no one else looks too impressed.

So far, there’s no sign of Dale.

I follow the Beta server back into the kitchen and concentrate on the job that isn’t really mine for a bit. It’s kind of boring, I guess, but it also keeps me busy, and it’s kind of amusing how quickly everyone just accepted me as the boss’ kid.

It’s been a long time since I had fun, and this isn’t exactly that, but it’s close enough to remind me what it used to be like.

I’ve been missing out on a lot.

It’s no fucking wonder Dale’s done waiting around for me.

An Omega could never live the way I’ve been living.

He stopped helping me with all my crazy, amateur detective shit years ago, and there’s no way in hell he would have put up with me trawling the dark web in the hopes of capturing Zoey’s captors.

The truth is, we don’t know who took her, and we probably never will.

It’s been too long. The cops gave up fucking years ago.

I thought that meant I had to keep going.

That no one else cared.

I was so fucking short sighted.

I couldn’t lift my head long enough to see what I was doing wasn’t helping anyone.

“We’re done,” the Beta server tells me, as we head back to the kitchen.

“Uh, really?” I ask, not prepared for that little announcement.

He nods. “The food’s out. We get to do what we want for a couple hours before we come back and clear everything up.”

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