by Shannon West
Chapter Eight
Fifteen months later
It’s hard to believe that almost a year and a half had gone by since I last saw Logan, but a lot had changed for me in that time frame. When I first came to Atlanta, I used Logan's money to find a cheap room and some inexpensive day care for the baby. That proved to be the hardest part, but when I gave up and checked with the Omega Family and Children's Services in Atlanta, they gave me a list of omegas who kept wolf children in their homes. One or two lived close to my neighborhood, and when I checked them out, I found a really nice, older lady who was half wolf on her mother’s side and had two almost grown kids of her own. She was doing child care to help make ends meet. Her name was Natalie, and she was a godsend to me. She lived only a few doors down from me, and she taught me a lot of things I didn't know.
Natalie actually liked it that I worked at night, so she could work other jobs during the day. Carrie was such a good baby and went to bed fairly early, which gave Natalie the rest of the evening to just watch her shows on TV. Gradually, our days began to slip into a routine.
Every morning, I'd get up with the baby whenever she wanted to, which was usually around seven. Since I worked until well past midnight, that was rough. But I fed her and turned on the TV and watched her play with her toys while I dozed on the couch. I took my naps when she did, and when we woke up in the afternoon, she'd sit on the bed and we’d play together. Natalie came over to watch her around six, so I could make it to work on time, and she stayed there until I came home.
Carrie just seemed to get more and more beautiful every day. Her hair had darkened over the last year, and it was now the same shade as Logan's with little streaks of auburn all through it. Her eyes were green now like his too, though they had been blue when she was first born—that dark blue infants have at birth. She had his high cheekbones and perfect bone structure. Her disposition was sunny, and she was the best baby in the world. Honestly, it was as if the universe knew I couldn't handle much more so it gave me the perfect baby girl. We were happy, if a little lonely, but I thanked the goddess every day for bringing her into my life. I only wished I could take her home to see my dad, but that was never going to happen, or at least not for a long time. One look at her and he would know exactly who her father was.
My first job was at a local Walmart, working in the evenings, and it was mostly just pushing a broom and getting carts out of the parking lot. I worked there for the first year or so, but after a while I realized I was just not making enough money to buy Carrie the things she needed and still be able to eat every once in a while. Natalie had even noticed how much weight I'd lost, and it got to the point where she brought me over leftovers from her dinner most every night. I decided I had to find a better paying job. I began to go out seriously looking for something else during the day, and I'd had the idea that maybe I could learn about bartending and make not only a salary, but tips. The only problem was that I knew next to nothing about it.
Finally, a little bar on Ponce de Leon Street gave me a chance. It was a small omega bar, and the owner needed help badly enough to take me on without any experience. He stayed with me the first few nights, teaching me the names of the various cocktails and wine concoctions and showing me how to use the bar tools.
The rest I learned by on-the-job training and by gradual, slow, and bitter experience, and only after screwing up a lot of drinks. The other bartender, Benjie, even taught me a few showy moves, called “flairing” and they really weren't that difficult, but required a lot of practice to be really good. Benjie had advised me to keep my moves simple and then gradually learn a few new techniques that I could practice over and over.
Then after a couple of months, I heard of a job at a new omega club opening downtown and I applied for it. By this time, I had acquired some skill in bar techniques and knew so much more than I did when I started. I was thrilled, because it meant twice the money I was making now. The first night I worked there, the place was packed. It was only seven o’clock, but alphas and betas had been streaming into the club since around six, their excitement at being there almost palpable and definitely contagious. The combined aroma of cologne, liquor, and arousal filled the air with wicked promises. I took a deep breath of it, taking it all in as I looked out over the crowded room. The bar was quickly becoming one of the most popular omega clubs in Atlanta. The black leather chairs, starched tablecloths, and dark mahogany wood lent opulence to the interior, as alphas and a few betas crowded into the large main lounge and jockeyed for position at the bar in order to hit on all the pretty omegas clustered there, both male and female.
Wolves of all sizes and shapes packed the room. Many different packs were represented, but the club was a neutral zone—no fighting was allowed. Most of the patrons wore boots and jeans, but occasionally there were some expensive suits—this was Atlanta, after all. As for the omegas, they were dressed to attract, in skimpy, tight outfits and bright colors. I looked out over the dance floor, noticing how the music pulsed with a deep throbbing sound I could feel in my groin. The dancers on the floor must have too, since they ground their hips together on the dance floor. Some of the girls and the boys danced with their backs to the alphas, as if presenting them their asses. A flashing strobe lit the scene on the dance floor, making the dancers look partially shifted, as if they were participating in some primitive tribal ritual, their strong bodies writhing to drums.
I took a deep breath and turned to gather my bar equipment so I could put on a little show for the customers. The owners wanted everything to be perfect, putting a lot of pressure on the employees. I'd been practicing even more than usual for the past three weeks in preparation. The other bartender was named Diego, and he'd been really interested in me and friendly right from the start. He was new to flairing too, so we had decided to keep it simple. We were too busy for anything too showy or over the top, anyway, but the customers liked it, and most importantly, it increased the tips. Diego had been hired only a few days after I was, but he was a really friendly guy and we got along right away. We'd even gone for coffee after our shifts a couple of times, and he'd asked if I wanted to hang out some on our off days, but I made excuses. All of my spare time went to taking care of Carrie. He did take me home a couple of times, so he knew where I lived, but I tried not to make that a habit.
The owner of the bar, Joe, had already warned us that the crowd downtown at the larger omega bars were not like the crowd at our last bar. These guys didn’t just sit and watch appreciatively. They shouted and clapped and threw money on the bar in excitement that was contagious and fun. I was actually having a good night, the best I'd had in a long while, and I needed the extra money to buy Carrie some new winter clothes.
As for what I was wearing, I wasn't as happy about that. I guess I had never really accepted that I was an omega. The owner hired only omegas he considered good-looking, and since he wanted us to put on a show, he also wanted us to dress for it too. He insisted we wear identical tight black leather shorts, emphasis on the short, with nothing else except combat boots. I'd been a little embarrassed to wear the outfit at first, but what the hell? I had good legs and nice abs and the pants at least covered all my bits. Just barely, that is, but I'd decided to think of it as just a costume.
Besides, it garnered me great tips too, and that was what I was all about. I had used Logan's credit card fairly liberally right after I'd left, careful to keep a running tab of what I owed him. Now, with my paycheck enhanced by tips, I was finally earning a decent wage and trying to repay all the money I'd borrowed when I first got to Atlanta. I'd kept in touch with my dad, too, by phone, at least, and while he didn't understand and was still angry that I left, he was beginning to come around.
I had been getting cruised hard since the bar opened, but so far no one had been obnoxious about it when I dodged their advances. I was mostly naked, after all, and working around a bunch of alphas used to getting their own way, so it was to be expected. I had no interest in any of them, mainl
y because I still wasn't over Logan and didn't know if I ever would be. Still, the bar was busy, the tips were great, and I was having fun. I flirted hard, because it made the tips bigger.
I saw a nod from Diego at the other end, a signal that he was about to start tossing things my way, and I looked around to see if any of my customers needed anything before I got myself in position. When one of the alphas signaled for me at the end of the bar, I went to him, leaning in so I could hear him and smiling and winking at him as he complimented my outfit. Yes, it was offensive, and yes, it got old, but I played the game. If this was what it took, then I'd do it. Carrie needed new clothes, because she was growing so fast.
After the requisite flirting, I took his order for a traditional margarita. Grabbing a glass, I gave it a little palm spin and sat it on the bar while reaching for a bottle of tequila. I poured the liquor in a tin, making sure it was no more than an ounce. Then I flipped it in the air and upside down for a second. It was so fast that not a drop spilled out, a move that always got a lot of attention. I added in the mix and gave it a showy little shake up by my shoulder.
It was simple stuff, but everybody clapped and smiled good-naturedly, and I felt a little glow that lasted right up until the time I glanced down to the end of the bar. Sitting there, unsmiling and grim, his eyes darkly flashing, was Logan Grady, and he didn’t look at all happy to see me.
I hadn't seen him in over a year, but it felt like yesterday we'd sat in that hotel room in Asheville and he'd told me he got a divorce. I could feel the blood draining from my face, and I turned quickly away in confusion, not quite getting a hand up in time to catch a tin sailing towards me from Diego’s end of the bar. I dodged out of the way and it crashed against the bar, splashing its contents on the customers sitting nearby. They yelled at me teasingly, and one of them made a grab for my arm, but I dodged him too. I managed to recover, shouting out my apologies, and moved farther down the bar, away from Logan, taking orders and making drinks in a daze. I was hardly even aware of what I was doing. It was like being on automatic pilot, doing the little moves I’d practiced so often that I supposed I must really have been able to do them in my sleep.
Diego kept casting me questioning looks, and after a few more minutes of me fumbling through some moves that were supposed to have been slick, he signaled for one of the other bartenders to take over, and he pulled me back toward the kitchen. He stopped in the little corridor outside the double doors, a tiny oasis in the chaos of waiters passing around us.
“What’s the matter with you, Kade? You look like you're about to pass out on me. Don’t you feel well?”
“No, I’m fine,” I said, rubbing a hand over my eyes. “It’s just…I saw a familiar face at the bar, and it threw me a little.”
“What are you two doing out here?” We both jumped at the loud voice and the look on our boss's face as he suddenly appeared behind us. Joe was all alpha, which meant he was all asshole and a bag of chips.
“Going back to work, boss,” Diego called out to him. “Sorry!” He gave me a quick, apologetic look and took off.
I tried to scoot along behind him, but Joe caught my arm, looking down at me. “I caught your little act at the bar. Very cute, except for when you forgot everything you were supposed to be doing. If you break things, it comes out of your salary.”
“Yes, sir. Sorry.”
“Just don't let it happen again.” He reached down and cupped my balls. “This little outfit looks good on you. Maybe before we close tonight, you can give me a private show.”
I laughed and tried to step away. Joe had been hitting on me and manhandling me inappropriately ever since I came, but I needed to keep on his good side, and I knew how to duck and dodge. This was the best paying bartending job in town. I could take a little sexual harassment for the money he gave me each week. He pushed me against the wall and leaned over me, one hand over my head. “That bubble butt of yours has been driving me crazy tonight. I've never seen an omega like you before.” He stepped in closer and slipped a hand down the back of my shorts. “I'm not even a hundred percent sure you are one. But I like the way you look.” He began to knead the muscles in my ass and that's when we both heard someone clear his throat.
“Excuse me.”
Joe jumped like he'd been shot and whirled around. Logan was standing not three feet away. “I was looking for the bathroom.”
“Well, this isn't it. It's on the other side of the bar, and this area is for employees only. The bathroom has a sign over the door—you shouldn't be able to miss it.”
“Oh good. Then you can go there and wipe off the blood when I'm done with you.”
“Huh? What are you talking about?”
Logan moved so fast I could barely see him. He hit Joe with an uppercut, square on the nose so hard Joe's head reeled back and the blood started to gush all down his shirtfront. Then Logan grabbed him by the throat with one hand and hoisted him off the ground so his feet were dangling in the air. Joe wasn't a small man, so it was a pretty impressive move.
“Touch him like that again, and I'll rip off your hands and stuff them down your throat, do you understand me?”
Joe's eyes were bulging, and he was gasping for air, clawing at Logan's hand, but Logan kept holding him off the ground. “Nod if you do.”
Joe nodded frantically and Logan smiled at him, showing way too many teeth. His eyes were red, and he was well along into a partial shift. Joe looked terrified, and I didn't blame him. Logan, in his wolf, was one of the biggest and fiercest animals I'd ever seen. Even partially shifted, like he was now, he was scary as fuck. Slowly, Logan lowered Joe to the ground and set him back on his feet.
“Now apologize to him.”
“I-I'm sorry.”
Logan flung him halfway down the hallway, took me by the arm, and began dragging me behind him to the front of the bar. I yanked my arm away from him, and he whirled to face me. He was frightening, but I refused to be intimidated by him. I lifted my chin defiantly. “What are you doing? That's my boss!”
“He was fondling you. Taking advantage.” The words came out garbled because of all the teeth filling his mouth, but I understood.
“That's not your business anymore, Logan!”
“The fuck it isn't. I'm your alpha,” he growled at me, getting up in my face. I stepped back and shook my head.
“Not anymore. I left your pack, and I'm on my own now. And I need this job. Please just go. I'm begging you.” I glanced behind me and saw Joe getting up off the floor and fumbling for his phone. “He's calling for the bouncers. Go, Logan, before they get here and a fight gets started. Please.”
“I'm not afraid of his damn bouncers.”
“I know that, but please. Don't cause me any more trouble.”
I thought at first he wouldn't leave, but with one last furious glare at both Joe and me, he finally stalked away. I was trembling a little by the time Joe came up to me and jerked me around by the arm. “Who the fuck is that?” he yelled down in my face. “I'll have him arrested for assault.”
“I don't know. Just please leave it, Joe. He's gone now.”
“You do know! I saw you talking to him.”
“I told him to leave, and he won't be back. Can't you just leave it at that?”
“I'm not leaving anything. Get your shit and get out of my club.”
My mouth dropped open. “You're firing me? But none of that was my fault!”
He gave a bitter laugh as he wiped blood from his face with his handkerchief. “Are you kidding? That was all your fault. He came here for you, didn't he? You told me you didn't have any alpha.”
“I don't. He used to be my alpha, but not anymore.”
“Yeah, well, you better tell him that. He apparently didn't get that message.” He stuffed his bloody handkerchief back in his pocket. “Now get out.”
“But I'm in the middle of my shift.”
“Like I give a shit. I don't need your kind of trouble around here. Now get out of here before I g
et the bouncers to put you out.”
Anger and frustration rolled over me in a wave, and I grabbed his shirt front and slammed him against the wall. “Then give me my damn money for last week.”
He looked down at me in amazement and struggled to get free, but I was pissed off and tired of his shit. “Plus a week's severance pay. Give it to me or I'll take it out of your ass.”
“I knew anyone who looks and acts like you couldn't be a real omega!”
“Just give me my damn money or I'll make you regret it.”
He huffed and puffed a few times, but finally reached into his pocket for his wallet and pulled out the cash he owed me. I snatched it from his hand and turned around quickly to storm back to the dressing room, which was really just a little storage area off the kitchen with a couple of lockers in it. Not stopping to dress, in case he was still thinking of calling his bouncers, I just pulled on my jacket, grabbed the rest of my clothes and took off out the back door.
Wanting to put as much distance as I could between me and that club, I ran down the back alley and came out on the street in front of it. It said a lot about this part of town that my outfit—short shorts barely covering my ass, leather jacket, and combat boots—didn't so much as raise an eyebrow.
I was heading for the bus stop when I heard someone calling my name. I turned to look behind me and saw Diego running up after me. “Wait, Kade. Where are you going?”
“I got fired. It's a long story, but it'll be okay.”
“But how will it? Go back and apologize and beg Joe for your job back.”
“Uh, no. And he wouldn't give it to me anyway.” I started for the bus stop again, and he pulled my arm. “But how will I find you again? Where do you live?”
“I'll be around. I'll come in the bar one night and let you know where I wind up once I find a job.”