Faith & the Dead End Devils (Sweet Omegaverse, #8)(29)
Chance's voice lowered as we walked down the stairs. He pointed into a darkness ahead of us, where a thin strip of light stretched across a gray floor. "That's the club, the bar. King's office is open. We'll go out this way," he said, steering me to the left, to a pair of glass double doors.
If King refused to accept pack dynamics, was that why Bear resisted the idea of bonding me? Or was that just because…of me?
"Does that mean all the alphas are feral?" I whispered, slowing my steps as we neared the door.
It was golden and pink through the doors, evening already, and he pushed one open, letting in a sudden rush of dry heat and air that smelled faintly of asphalt. I paused on the threshold as Chance walked ahead of me, blinking at the outside world.
We were in a desert, bristly thin weeds growing up through baked earth, and what looked like an abandoned storefront across the road. I stepped through the door slowly, stumbling slightly over the ledge, down off the broken sidewalk to the craggy parking lot. We were under the awning of the motel, and I turned back to study the chipped orange paint of the building and then around at the barren sketched blurs of the world around me.
Adam and I had been in the desert when I was grabbed too, and I was uncertain how far Omikron had moved me, or even how long I'd been missing at this point. Sudden tears rose in my eyes, and Chance hurried around me, closing the door and stepping in front of me, his hands cupping my face.
"I haven't—I can't remember being outside in…" Since the night Adam and I snuck around the back of an industrial shipping port where we thought omegas were being trafficked, since I'd been grabbed from behind and quickly put under with a shot to the neck. "So long," I whispered.
"Shit," Chance whispered. "Come on, there's a bench outside the laundromat. And a better view."
I followed his lead away from the motel, across a pitted and cracked parking lot, over some scorched dry weeds and grass, to a small and seemingly abandoned strip of stores.
No, not abandoned. There were a couple cars at the far end, and a muffled tone of music.
Chance sat us down facing the road, and the empty expanse of the desert ahead of us, all color and shadow washed in vibrant tones by the sinking sun, distant mountains blue on the horizon.
"I dunno if King really knows how a pack works, or how to avoid one. There's some guys who are definitely feral in the crew, yeah. Some loners, or just assholes, maybe. And King keeps himself separate. But a guy like Bear? Who's just kind of loyal and orderly anyway? He might as well be in a pack, as far as I can tell."
Chance was rambling a bit, filling me in and distracting my head from some of the panic setting in. I was sucking in deep lungfuls of air, even as it dried out my throat, my fingers wrapped around the splintering bench I was seated on, listening to the grit of the sidewalk scrape against the bottoms of my flip flops.
"Birdy, you okay? You need to go back in?"
I shook my head quickly, blinking again and swiping away the wetness. "No. No, keep talking."
Chance's arm stretched out behind me, a grounding touch against my shoulders. "’Kay, um… We call each other brothers. King says we're closer than a pack, better. But to be honest, I think that's what he'd like to see. It's the same food chain as anywhere else. Alphas on top. And the few betas who can stomach sticking around trailing at the bottom."
His voice was rough, bitter, and I slid one of my hands onto his thigh, gripping the muscle and making his words stall briefly.
"At first, I stayed because it was all I'd ever known. I grew up in this crew. Been running around some of these guys since I was in diapers. And then…King took the prez seat right before I was ready to prospect. He's a lot cleaner than the last prez, wants the club to thrive, not just party to our deaths. Suits some of us better than others. He means what he says, even if not everyone gives a shit. Means it when he says designation doesn't factor into the club. It does, but I appreciate he's fooling himself into thinking otherwise."
I grew used to the air moving over my skin as he talked, turning with the shift of the barely-there breeze. Grew used to the sounds of a dog barking in the distance, the far off motor of an engine. Chance paused as the single lit shop at the end of the row opened with a bell clanging on the door, and two men exited. I stiffened, but his fingers stroked back and forth over my shoulder and if the men noticed us they did nothing, heading directly into their car.
"Just a convenience store. Pretty much the only thing open when the guys are out on a ride," Chance said to me. "Cigarettes, beer, and burgers."
"Burgers?" I asked, my mouth watering.
"Want one?"
The saliva turned to ash, and my heart sank as I shook my head. I did want one, desperately, but I also knew I wouldn't stomach the bite.
"You okay?" Chance asked, cupping my shoulder.
I nodded, blinking at the ball of glaring golden light soaking into the horizon. "Can we stay till the sun sets?" I asked.
Chance scooted closer to me and I sighed, settling into him. "Long as you want, Birdy."
13. FAITH
Our steps were slow and dragging as Chance and I moved through the empty hall of the motel, shoulders brushing, hands linked.
It'd grown chilly and dark before I'd finally stirred from the bench, and Chance had taken me past the open office door that smelled strongly of leather and olive oil, to raid the kitchen for my supper. He'd stood to the side, watching me make myself a mess of a sandwich, and had wiped the few tears from my cheeks as I'd eaten food I'd prepared for myself.