Welded: MM Mpreg Romance (Industrial Alphas Book 1)

by Lorelei M. Hart

  Copyright

  The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of a copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by fines and federal imprisonment.

  Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in, or encourage, the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Welded Copyright 2019 Lorelei M. Hart

  ISBN: 978-1-68361-336-7

  Editor Wizards in Publishing

  Cover design by Fantasia Frog Designs

  Published by Decadent Publishing LLC

  Table of Contents

  I’m on the run from the devil himself.

  I snuck into the back of his truck and am now in the basement of a building still under construction. He can’t find me. I won’t let him. But when I hear steps coming down the stairs, I know I’ve been caught.

  He says his name is Alois, and that he won’t tell anyone. Can I trust him? I don’t have a choice.

  This ragged and thin omega—someone has treated him all kinds of wrong.

  I’ll bring him home and make sure he’s safe, just until he gets back on his feet. But he smells so good, and I can’t help but want to keep him.

  But his ex, and my former boss won’t give up easily. I’ll do anything to stop him, including going to jail for making sure he can’t ever harm him again.

  Welded is the first book in Industrial Alphas, a brand new series featuring strong, hard-working alphas, the thetas—a special kind of omega—they love, and their adorable babies.

  Welded

  Industrial Alphas Book 1

  By

  Lorelei M. Hart

  Chapter One

  Miles Trenton

  I gently pulled my backpack open and took out a granola bar, since I was pretty sure my stomach had turned in on itself. I hadn’t eaten since the day before.

  A noise in the distance made me jump, and I juggled the snack in my hand before managing to not drop it.

  I supposed it would be this way for a while. One day maybe I wouldn’t have a coronary at loud sounds or people yelling.

  Maybe, one day, I would find some peace.

  I slunk to the farthest corner of the building and took out my journal. Minus the snacks I’d bought at the 7-11 a block away, I still had about thirteen hundred dollars in cash sewn into the bottom of my bag. I went over the list one more time.

  I’d trashed my computer and thrown it, along with my cell, into the lake early that morning.

  All my clothes were clean and folded right where they belonged, so it didn’t look like I left on purpose.

  My accounts were cleared, and I hadn’t made the mistake in Sleeping with the Enemy. None of my friends knew I had plans to leave mostly because I only had three friends, and two of them were my brothers who’d tried to convince me to leave for the past five years, ever since we’d come back from our honeymoon—Kent with a shit-eating grin and me with my first shiner. I’d told everyone I slipped while skiing.

  That was the first time I lied for him. There would be many more in the future.

  I made checks on the paper, ticking off everything on the list, and then pulled a burner phone from the side pocket of the bag. I checked the time and was surprised to see that I could access Wi-Fi from some office building nearby that had no password. That wasn’t very smart of them.

  I scrolled through Craigslist and came upon some apartments and guesthouses that I could afford, but barely.

  I’d rather be poor than someone’s punching bag any day of the week.

  Outside, rays of the streetlights trickled through the concrete walls of the building. I could see them from my perch as they crawled onto the stairwell. I’d leave in the morning before any of the workers arrived. I set a quick alarm and pulled out the sleeping bag I’d found at a garage sale.

  After wiggling inside, I pulled my knees up and tucked my backpack behind me. At this point, I didn’t even trust the night not to take it from me. Maybe I’d never trust anyone again in my life.

  I shifted against the cold concrete floor, but it gave me no comfort. My back still bruised and two of my ribs still broken, I knew it would be a while before I’d ever really be comfortable.

  At least here, I could breathe.

  Sleep never found me, but my alarm did before the sun had risen.

  I scrambled to get up and stuff everything into my backpack before deciding on the first place I would look at as a possible place to live. Kent wouldn’t be back here. He always did one inspection of a project and then never came back. He paid people to do that for him.

  He was such an asshole, he wouldn’t even show up at the opening of one of his buildings.

  I crossed the street and just in time. A pickup truck pulled into the lot right after me. It was one of the workers. I knew by the logo on the side and the toolbox in the back. I pretended to use the payphone while I stalked a little longer. All I cared about was whether or not it was one of Kent’s people and if they had found me out already.

  A man got out of the truck and stopped to take off his shades and then his jacket. His navy-blue T-shirt pulled taut over his pecs and strained to cover his biceps. His jeans were dusty, but it was the kind of dirty that even a washing machine couldn’t have gotten out. His boots pounded the ground as he checked something on a clipboard and then grabbed a neon orange vest and hard hat before walking into the building.

  I leaned against the cool metal box of the payphone and let myself exhale. It wasn’t Kent. It wasn’t any of his people. I was safe for now.

  That was all I could ask for.

  I filled my morning with inquiries into apartments and guesthouses for rent. All of them were affordable but I had no job to help me past the first month. I would spend most of my money on the deposit and then the first month’s rent. Most of them would leave me with no money for food.

  I munched on a pack of crackers from the gas station and sipped from a water bottle filled from the public fountain, watching the building again. I would have to spend at least another night there. I’d have to take it day by day, which was nothing new for me. Living with Kent, you had to live hour to hour. One hour you might be fine and he would be smiling, and the next you might find yourself sprawled on the floor with a puddle of blood next to you.

  The man I’d seen before, Mr. Tall Dark and Dirty, headed out after the rest of the trucks had left. I checked my watch to see it was a little after seven. He’d worked over twelve hours that day or so I assumed.

  I crunched on the last cracker in the pack and downed the last of the water, intending to fill it up again before I went back to the building’s basement for the night.

  For a moment, a slip of a second, I regretted my decision. I could’ve been in a hot shower right now, having had kobe beef or fresh lobster for dinner—with a side of intimidation, accusations, and fat lip.

  I shook my head, trying to make the thoughts go away and watched as the guy drove away.

  I could do this.

  Chapter Two

  Alois Diaz

  I tipped my mask down and lit the torch, the brilliant light, the ability to create, captivating as always.

  I didn’t work on Sundays, just didn’t. I worked six days most weeks, as many hours as required by my employer, but alt
hough I did not attend church weekly as my Peruvian immigrant parents had and still did, I felt that a person needed one day a week to rest. So until today, I’d stuck with that policy, but with the project falling behind and my employer offering me triple time to help him get back on track...well, I guess every man has his price. And it wasn’t as if I was killing anyone, although my mother did sound like it when I called to cancel Sunday dinner. Might have been because I hadn’t been by in a while.

  I took comfort in the fact that the work I was correcting was not my own but that of another welder—one who would not be returning on Monday morning. And despite my working all day yesterday and today, there would still be enough work for a couple of men before all was said and done.

  Still, with nobody else in the building by midafternoon, I was able to get so much more work done than in the usual hustle and bustle of a busy site. By late afternoon, I had accomplished what I’d promised the boss and then some. He’d gotten his money’s worth for sure. I could still make it to Mom and Dad’s but didn’t have the energy. My lawyer sister and doctor brother and their families were there, and although I was proud of my work, and made nearly as much as they did, somehow they all made my blue-collar job and single status seem like something to be ashamed of.

  It didn’t shake my confidence, but it was irritating.

  After I’d locked my equipment in my truck, I went back inside and did a final check. When you work with fire, you’re very careful about such things. It all looked good, and I made some mental notes about what I hoped to accomplish the next day. Shrugging my stiff shoulders, I lifted an arm to brush my sweaty hair back and grimaced. Even if I’d wanted to go to dinner, I’d have had to go home and shower first because, ugh. Welding in summer was a sweaty job for sure.

  I clanked down the steel steps to the ground floor then started for the door when I heard a thud from below me. Pausing, I waited but heard nothing else. But there should be nobody else here. Everyone else called in for the emergency hours had left some time ago. Construction sites were notorious for thefts, but the owners had not hired a watchman, claiming crime to be almost negligible in this area. I’d moved here from the big city only a few years before and had seen enough expensive losses, even with security, to consider that a reckless chance to take, but I was only a welder. If they wanted to lose thousands of dollars worth of materials because someone, maybe not even a local, chose to drive here and steal, or perhaps even to vandalize, who was I to argue.

  Of course, I had...argued I mean, but had been quickly shut down.

  It would serve them right if I just went home without investigating that second thump, but my conscience wouldn’t allow me to. Watching a building go up, one I helped to create, was one of the two great joys in my life. I could not just leave, knowing there might be mischief afoot. With a sigh, I leaned against the iron railing of the staircase and waited, wanting a better fix on where the sound was coming from before checking it out. A couple of thumps did not necessarily indicate robbers, but I’d been on the site alone before and it didn’t make much noise. After all, the only electrical service came from generators, and they were all turned off. A building in progress did not have the sounds a finished, live one did.

  People were always amazed at the quiet when there was a power outage. Here, at the edge of town, late on a Sunday, this warehouse should be dead silent. There was not even a breath of wind to make something rattle or flutter.

  I waited five minutes, ten...nothing. Then, just as I had almost convinced myself it had been nothing, I heard a soft curse. Empty construction sites never cursed. Able to ascertain the part of the basement where it came from, I took slow steps, careful not to step on anything that might alert my quarry to my presence. Exiting to the rear of the not-yet-closed-in walls of the first floor, I approached the basement door. It should have been locked, but a quick twist of the handle proved it was not.

  I eased the door open and took a step inside then two. The lower level was a virtual warren of rooms. They were not finished, but enough to make it difficult for me to see to the other side. And easy for someone to hide and see me as well. Altogether a pretty stupid move on my part. If it was a criminal ring, they’d just kill me, haul off the drywall or steel or whatever they came for, and be on their way.

  The last of the daylight filtered through the windows along the ceiling on the western side, but the floor was shadowy. Man, there could be a dozen robbers in there and maybe an arsonist or two… As a big, tall guy, I usually felt confident that I could handle myself in any situation, but sometimes that meant reporting a problem to the people in charge. I patted my pocket, realizing I had left my phone in the truck. I didn’t keep it on me while working, having ruined one too many.

  Not a sound broke the muffled silence of the basement, and once again I doubted myself. Could it have been a stray cat or one of the less-domesticated animals that populated the countryside? The basement was closed in but people had come and gone all day...a raccoon or, god forbid, skunk could have slipped inside. Or a stray dog.

  Then I heard it...another thud and a cry of pain.

  That was no dog.

  Chapter Three

  Miles

  I heard a booming voice calling out as his clunky footsteps barreled down the stairs to the basement where I thought I was safe.

  “Hello? This is private property.”

  I rolled my eyes, sitting against the corner in the darkest spot of said basement.

  I was so not answering.

  My stomach tangled up in bundles of nerves as a fist-sized knot lodged in my throat. If this person caught me, they would report me to the police or call the owner, who happened to be the one person in the world I did not want to see ever again.

  It would’ve been better to be caught and call up the devil himself.

  I heard a noise next to me and covered my mouth with my hand as a rat sniffed and wiggled his nose way too close to me.

  Gods, please don’t let him touch me.

  The rat’s nails ticked and clicked against the concrete floor as I tried to hold in my absolute terror at the rodent. But when he started to walk up my leg, I lost my shit completely.

  It was almost comical. A rat would be the thing that brought my entire plan to its end.

  I got up and danced around, batting and swatting with my backpack while still trying to maintain my silence.

  “I can hear you moving around. I won’t report you or anything. I just want you to leave.”

  Yeah, right. He wouldn’t report me.

  The rat lost the battle and scurried away under the stairwell. I’d have a tough time sleeping tonight thinking about that nasty creature slinking around, but it was better than the other nasty creature I used to live with.

  The one who called me mate.

  Told me I was his and he was mine.

  That we would be together forever.

  Just as long as I did everything he said, just the way he said it, and didn’t get myself killed in the process.

  Thank the gods I’d fled before he got me pregnant.

  I made myself clench like a statue and set myself to waiting this guy out. No way he was catching me. Except I saw the glow of a flashlight moving around the basement.

  I held my breath as the light flowed along the walls and for a minute, I thought he might not check the corner I was in until his steps grew louder and the beam of light touched the tip of my shoes and then trailed up my body.

  A tear rolled down my face as the myriad of implications of being caught fluttered through my mind.

  No, I’d rather die than to go back to Kent. If it came down to it, I’d beg him to turn me over to the police. Prison was the lesser of evils.

  “Just leave me alone,” I barked at the man who was twice as big as me in girth and at least six inches taller.

  “You can’t be here. Go home. This is not the place to do drugs or whatever it is you’re up to down here. This is a construction site. You could get hurt.”


  Drugs. If only.

  “I don’t take drugs. I—I don’t have anywhere to go. Please, it’s only for a few more nights until I can get a place.”

  He held the light between us and came closer so that I saw his furrowed brow. “You have no place to go?”

  I shook my head. “No, but I will soon. Can’t you just forget you saw me here?”

  He sighed long and hard, and the sound echoed in the hollow basement. “Look, I don’t know your situation, but you can crash at my place for a while. It’s obvious you haven’t been homeless for a while. I’m just a single guy who works a lot. You probably won’t even see me much. But I’ve got a hot shower and food. You’re looking a little skinny.”

  I glanced down at myself but already knew I was a lightweight. Kent kept me on a regimented 1200-calorie diet and made me log everything I ate into an app. He would even make me strip down every two weeks and weigh myself.

  “You don’t even know me,” I whispered into the space between us.

  “Don’t have to know someone to be nice. Come on, grab your stuff.”

  I swallowed against my fear but didn’t move an inch. He took a step closer. “Look, you can either come with me, or I’ll have to tell my supervisor we have a problem. Then he will call the cops. Better in my house than a cell, right?”

  Better a cell than with Kent.

  “Okay,” I said and couldn’t believe I had. I wasn’t a good judge of character, obviously from my choice in former mates, but this guy seemed genuine and kind. There was something about his eyes that told me he wouldn’t harm a flea despite his size and stature.

  I gathered up my things and followed the man up the stairs and to his truck.

  Gods, please don’t let this guy be another Kent in my life.

  He tossed my sleeping bag in the back of the truck after taking it from me and then opened the passenger side door to let me in. I watched him stalk across the front of the truck and then get into the driver’s side.