I had stopped by Café Om one day, but that just happened to be one of his off days, and I felt like asking the guy working about Marcus's schedule definitely crossed a line. A stalker line. With Marcus seemingly avoiding Club Royale still, that kind of left me in no-man's land.
With a sigh, I set the statue on my side table and turned the television off. Another day, another dollar. I didn't even bother hoping Marcus would be in tonight. But maybe this coming Omega Night?
I checked my mail before leaving. Normally, I picked it up around lunch, but today I'd been too busy taking care of one errand after another—paying bills, researching material costs—that I hadn't even stepped out of the house until now. There was a lone envelope sitting in the box. I flipped it over and my heart started tap dancing as I saw the handwritten script. Sally c/o Killian, and the return name, Blubby.
I tore open the envelope. It contained only a single photograph, wallet size: Blubby, his little bulgy eyes looking at the camera, and behind him, the statue.
I knew I was grinning like a fool, and I didn't even care. I'd already locked the house up, so I held on to the envelope and photograph. After a moment of consideration before starting the car, I tucked the photograph into my wallet. Sure, it was a little silly, but I wanted to keep it near me.
The drive into work was almost meditative. I'd driven it so often, I barely even noticed as I switched from one street to the other, switching into that alert zen state where your mind drifts while somehow knowing exactly where to go and how to avoid accidents. I wondered what Marcus did with his day when he wasn't working, cooking, or dancing. I laughed out loud at myself. Marcus was probably dancing no matter where he was, even if he wasn't clubbing. I'd seen that first hand. I was still smiling when I pulled in to the back parking lot at work. I wasn't the first to arrive, but as usual, I was early. I tossed my keys in the air as I stepped out of my car, whistling. Marcus's gift had buoyed my spirits after such a crap week.
A flash of white caught my eye and I jerked my head to follow it. What… Something twitched, and I realized it was a long, thin tail of a cat, the body hiding behind a box sitting next to the dumpster.
“Here, kitty, kitty, kitty,” I called softly, trying to creep up to check on it. It must have heard me, though, because there was a sudden scramble and a flash of white, and then he was gone. I shrugged. Alley cats. What could you do?
I was surprised when Joe had beaten me to work.
"What's up, man?" I asked as I hung up my jacket. "I didn't see your ride outside."
"Eh," he grunted. "It's in the shop this week. My sister had to drop me off before she headed into work. Might need to catch a ride home with you tonight."
"Sure man, whatever works." I continued whistling as I pulled on my red armband.
"What's got you so cheerful?" Joe asked. "I don't think I've ever heard you whistle before."
"What?" I slapped him on the arm as I started my routine. "Can't a guy just be happy without earning the third degree?"
"Sure. But you're not just happy." Joe tailed me, but even his dour suspicion couldn't sully my good mood. "Oh..." he said finally, a mischievous smile creeping across his face. "You finally got with your sweetheart."
"I didn't get with him, in the way you're implying," I grumbled. I knew how Marcus presented himself, probably better than anyone. But I didn't like the idea of anyone looking down on him. "We're just... talking."
"Sure... talking. Well, if talking makes you so happy, you just keep at it, lover boy. I'm going to go grab some caffeine. You want anything?"
"Yep." I stopped to pull out a couple dollar bills and Marcus's picture fluttered to the floor. I tried to snatch it, but Joe beat me to it. Clearly he'd been expecting something more salacious, because his look was disbelieving when he handed it back to me.
"That's some weird ass picture you got there, man."
I snatched it back from him and handed him the money. "What? It's just a fish."
"Yeah, but it's in your wallet." Joe shook his head. "I just don't get you, man."
"You don't have to get me, Joe, just my coffee."
He threw me the bird over his shoulder as he walked away. He'd have been insulted if I'd tried to tell him my order; we'd been doing this long enough.
I continued whistling as I finished my round. I actually liked that no one could tell the significance of that little picture. It was like a secret message between Marcus and me. Something no one else was part of.
As I headed back to the kitchen to check in with the waiters, I realized my surprise at seeing Joe had made me completely forget about the cat.
I stopped one of the waiters, Bill, and asked, "Hey, is it okay if I put together a little plate of snacks?"
"Sure, man. We don't have much, but knock yourself out."
I picked my way through the kitchen. It was small, but the club really didn't serve any food. The kitchen was just for prep of some of the drink stuff like pre-cut limes, skewers for Bloody Marys and it looked like a few odds and ends of employees' snacks, as well as storage for items they couldn't hold a lot of out at the bar. The first thing my eyes landed on was a jug of milk. Perfect. Cats loved milk, right? I managed to find some kind of tupperware and poured a little in to it. But it was a grown cat... surely it needed something more substantial? I picked through the options. A couple pieces of pepperoni... a piece of cheese... I figured cats weren't huge fans of fruit. There was someone's leftover box of wings, but I had no idea how long they'd been in there, and they were looking a little dry and crusty, so I just tossed them in the trash. I finally hit the jackpot with an unopened can of tuna. The little guy, or little girl, would go nuts over that.
I arranged my little bowls of offerings and snuck outside without anyone paying attention, and placed the two bowls where I had first seen the cat. Maybe he'd come back, maybe he wouldn't. I had a good feeling about him, though. I had a good feeling about tonight.
14
Marcus
“You know you want to,” Lola, my coworker taunted.
She was right, I did. That didn’t mean I should. It would look desperate at the best, creeptastic at the worst.
“It’s not even Omega Night,” I scoffed. “What’s the point in going if there are no alpha there looking for their omegas.” It was as lame an excuse as they came, but the best I could do on the fly. Showing up at the club on a non-omega night was the equivalent of throwing myself at the guy. Which to be fair, I wanted to, but still.
“You never know.” She tossed back her red curls. “Maybe there will be some alphas who aren’t looking for a meat market, just a good time. Besides, the competition is less.”
“And the cover double,” I countered. Not that money mattered to me, but I knew it did for her. She had been eyeing one of the bartenders for months and knew this was her way of “bumping” into him when his work load was lighter.
“I’ve totally got you.” She yanked out a couple of papers from her uniform pocket. “See?” She waved what I now knew to be free cover coupons. Leave it to Lola to coupon every aspect of her life.
“They have coupons?” I chuckled at the idea. It was the last place that needed to encourage more customers. As it was, they often closed their doors hours before posted simply because they were already at capacity.
“Ish. They donated them to a raffle basket that some local music thing was doing and my grandmother won it and told me to take what I wanted out of it. I scored these, free pop-corn at the old movie house on fifth, and smooshy socks with elves on them.” She was like a kid at Christmas listing her loot.
“That is the weirdest basket ever.”
“You have no idea. My grandma also won a free carwash and a jump drive among other things. For the record, this means you are going. Turning down a charity raffle prize is like bad luck or something.”
“Fine.” I feigned exasperation as I agreed to her plan.
I spent the rest of my shift daydreaming about the ways I could bump into Killi
an, every last one of them ending with a kiss. I was a sorry case to be sure, and by the time our shift ended and we were headed to the club, I was second guessing everything.
We got to the club earlier than normal. The bus stop dropped us around the back of the club, which was my favorite because it let me see how many cars were there or whose cars were there. It didn’t take me long to spot Killian’s.
“He here?” Lola asked.
I didn’t even pretend to not know what she was talking about since she was doing the same exact thing.
“Yours?”
“Yep.” She was practically bouncing. I hoped her bartender had an eye for her. He was flirty, which was good for tips, but it made him was hard to read.
Just then a cat caught my eye. She was eating out of random containers near the dumpsters and I hoped beyond hope it was left on purpose for her and that she wasn’t eating garbage because garbage in this place—I just couldn’t.
“You go on in and get us a table. I’m gonna make sure that cat isn’t eating something toxic.” I pointed.
“You and your cats.” She punched my shoulder playfully before scampering off to find us a table. One time I had worn cat socks to work and she had never let it go. But darn it, they were adorable.
I walked slowly to the cat, not wanting to scare her away. The closer I got, the more my heart bled for her. She was skinny, far too skinny, and from the looks of it, still on the tail end of kittendom. Poor thing.
“Hey, sweet baby, I’m just making sure you’re good., I cooed as I reached the furry ball of cuteness. I looked down to see a can of tuna, an empty container, and a bowl of milk. This wasn’t random garbage. Someone was feeding her, and by the looks of the meal spread before her, no wonder she was all scrawny. Milk. Who would ever?
I picked up the plastic bowl of milk and threw the contents over the edge of the dumpster. Hopefully, she wouldn’t go after it. I was livid as I marched around the building and into the club, paying my way in since I “forgot” to snag my free admittance coupon, leaving it for Lola’s next adventure.
“Hey, you know whose cat that is around back?” I asked the bouncer, swishing my hair as I did. No need to let on how pissed I was until I found the focus of my ire.
“Not a clue. Probably a stray. You’re welcome to take him home.” He shrugged.
Yeah, that was what I was going to do, at least for the night. I could find him a good home later. If I played my cards right, the worst that would happen is losing my security deposit.
“Sounds good.” I headed straight to Lola and told her my plan. Not that she cared, she’s already found a perch at the bar in her sweetie’s section. Go, Lola.
I wasn’t sure how the hell I was going to find the person who’d been feeding the cat, but I needed a box or something to keep her home in. I scooted over to the kitchen door in the back of the club. Maybe they’d have something I could use lying around.
“Blondie, you live up to your name.” The deep voice of the focus of my entire day’s dreams caressed my ears. As vivid as my imagination was, I never expected him to catch me trying to sneak into the kitchen for a box to take home a cat I wasn’t allowed to have.
“Thanks.” I ran my fingers through my hair. “Um, can you help me find a box big enough to carry a cat?”
“Why? I thought you couldn’t have cats.” He was already leading the way.
“I can’t, but I can’t leave her here, either. There is a stray out back and some asshat is feeding them milk. Can you even believe that?”
His body froze and he turned around, guilt written all over his face. Yes. Yes, he could believe it, because he’d done it. Fuck. If I’d thought I had any chance with Killian, I’d probably just lost it by calling him an asshat.
15
Killian
"I... thought... you were supposed to give cats milk?"
Marcus sighed, looking at me with such an utter sense of disappointment. "Get me that box, big boy, and I'll teach you the ways of cat feeding." He dropped the container that had previously held the milk in the sink.
It took me a moment to find a box that would work, and I hoped that the cat was still hanging around by the time we got out there. I hated the idea of disappointing Marcus even more.
"I wish I had some blankets or something to put in the bottom so she'll be comfy," he said.
"You go ahead and check on it," I said. "I'll be right back."
There was a stockpile of old event t-shirts in a back stock room that all of the employees had free reign on. I figured they'd be better put to use as a cat bed than laying around in a closet for a few more years. By the time I made it back outside, he had that creature crawled up on top of him, kneading into his tightly clad thighs, arching its back, its throat rumbling like a diesel engine. I bent down cautiously to arrange the shirts in the box in a fluffy pile. The cat glared balefully at me, as if it knew I was to blame for giving him milk. I looked over at the remaining containers. At least it'd liked the other stuff.
I crouched down across from Marcus. "So what's wrong with milk?"
"They can't process it," he said, scratching the critter behind its ears and earning an extra deep purr. "When it doesn't digest, it can ferment in their stomachs and end up making them sick."
Great. Now I felt like a super asshole. "I didn't—"
"A lot of people don't." Marcus looked up and his face softened at my apparent misery. "But your heart was in the right place."
"The path to hell is paved with good intentions," I muttered.
"Well, I'm sure your hell will be very cute and cuddly. Just piled full of stuffed animals, not real animals. Dogs and cats go to heaven, you know."
I smiled, his cheer lifting my spirits back up. Besides, I was finally able to talk to him again. That made up for a lot. "I thought cats were of the devil."
Marcus mimed clapping his hands over the cat's ears. "Hush your mouth!" He leaned down to the cat and cooed. "He didn't mean it, princess kitty cat, he just doesn't know any better."
"How do you know she's a girl?" I asked, leaning down to see if there were visible signs of the animal's sex.
Marcus shrugged. "I don't. It's not like I'm going to flip her over on to her back on our first meeting! But it's not like I could call him or her an it."
I squinted my eyes in confusion. "You... can't?"
Marcus looked at me with such an over-exaggerated but serious look of betrayal, it was hard not to laugh. "Killian Daye, you're not telling me you're one of those people that refers to cats and dogs as 'it's?"
"Um..."
"Would you call Sally an 'it'?"
"Well, no, but I know she's a girl. If I didn't know, though? What's the problem?"
Marcus shook his head in dismay, open and closing his mouth in a state of feigned wordlessness. "I just don't know how we can be friends," he said in a wounded tone.
"I got her t-shirts as blankets... that counts for something, right?"
Marcus made a show of pondering it. "I suppose I can take it into consideration... as long as you never refer to her as 'it' again."
He looked so freaking cute cuddling that raggedy cat, so offended on her behalf. I just wanted to pull them both into my lap and cuddle. But a twinge in my knee reminded me where we were: in the back parking lot of a club, in the dark, while I was technically still on duty.
I cleared my throat. "Hey, listen... I need to head back inside, but... are you planning on sticking around for a while?"
Marcus frowned down at the cat with a sigh. "I don't suppose the bus drivers would be too happy about me bringing her on the bus, would they."
I shrugged. It had been a long time since I had ridden the bus, but yeah, back then they would have thrown a shit fit. "If you want, we can close her up in the back storage room. It's full of those t-shirts and some shelves. Not much in there. We can give her food and water, and put a sign on the room so no one opens it. No one goes in there much; we generally just forget about it. And then maybe you ca
n dance for a while, and I could give you a ride home?"
I’d have to tell Joe he needed to find another ride, but he wouldn’t have a problem with that.
Marcus's smile was bright and fleeting, and then his masks slid back into place. Not as quickly as before, which was something. "Yeah, that sounds cool."
I helped Marcus up. The cat didn't want to let him go, so I grabbed the box and led the way. We got the cat all settled in and closed the door behind us. I got Marcus set up with some markers and he very carefully lettered: Giant Attack Squirrel: DANGER—which we then taped to the door.
Before we pushed through the door into the dark of the club, I felt the need to reassure myself he'd be waiting when I got off work. "So later tonight?"
He bumped my elbow with his. "Yeah, later tonight, big boy."
My laughter was lost in the bass, but my smile stayed the rest of the night.
16
Marcus
“Lola, come dance!” I grabbed her hand, the object of her affection busy filling drink orders for a line that nearly wrapped around to the dance floor.
“I have a good spot here,” she protested, even as she got up to join me.
Normally I would dance alone, hoping an alpha would see my mad moves and join me. Tonight, the only one I wanted to join me was Killian, and he had to work.
The dance floor was far less crowded than Omega Night, which was a nice change of pace. The likelihood of someone bouncing into me was significantly less, and I could let myself break free without fear of knocking into a mean drunk.
The music had my hips swaying before we even claimed our small spot on the dance floor. Club Royale spared no expense on their DJ, and even on an off night, the music had my body moving on its own accord.
His Secret Billionaire Omega Page 6