by J. L. Wilder
© Copyright 2019 by J.L. Wilder- All rights reserved.
In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.
Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.
The Human Omega
The Omega Diairies
By: J.L. Wilder
Click to Receive a Free Copy of Brother’s Wolf (Full length)
Table of Contents
The Human Omega
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Preview of Omega’s Bears
About The Author
The Human Omega
Chapter One
Kiedra stared out the window as the taxi pulled up to the front of the hospital. She passed some bills over the seat to the driver before stepping out of the car.
“Thanks. Could you pop the trunk for me, please?”
The driver nodded and pushed the button. The trunk sprang up and Kiedra swung it open before grabbing her overnight bag. She closed the trunk and the car pulled away, leaving her alone in the parking lot.
She took a deep breath, looking up at the edifice which represented the only money Whiteridge, Montana had ever seen.
“Move it, girl,” Mamma Butter’s voice snapped. “I don’t have all day, you know.”
It was amazing to her that even after she’d moved out, gone to college, and lived on her own, Mamma’s voice was the one she heard when she didn’t want to do something. The looming hospital represented the last place she wanted to be—ever—but especially now. In her mind, Mamma was a tall, square-shouldered woman with a weathered face and strong hands. But in that building, Mamma would be none of those things. Not if the cancer was as advanced as Roland had said it was.
“You need to come home, Kiki,” Roland said. “Sylvia needs you.”
Kiedra laughed. “Mamma doesn’t need anyone. She never has.”
“This time, she does.”
The phone suddenly weighed ten times what it had a moment earlier. The smile she wore slid from her lips as though it had been pasted to her face but the adhesive had failed. She’d been glad to hear from Roland, thinking the phone call might have been nothing more important than a wedding or birth announcement from home.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“It’s cancer. There’s been a lot of it in the Pack. In the town.”
“Well, cancer sucks, but there have been advances−”
Roland interrupted her. “The doctors say she has days. No more than a week. When can you get here?”
A hand clenched tight around her heart, squeezing until she couldn’t breathe.
“I’ll be on the first flight I can find.”
THE flight had been a blur. She’d barely registered the landing before she was standing at the curb, hailing a taxi. The drive into Whiteridge had stirred memories from her childhood and another drive from far away.
Kiedra sighed. She shifted her bag on her shoulder and resigned herself to what she knew she had to do. The hush of the hospital lobby was strangely loud after the rush of the wind outside. Kiedra scanned the lobby, wincing when she saw who sat behind the desk.
“Kiedra Foster! Aren’t you just a breath of fresh air from the big city?” Alice Panesar exclaimed. She stood up behind her desk and grinned with an almost manic cheerfulness that made Kiedra’s head ache.
“It’s good to see you, too, Alice.” She forced a smile and knew it had to look brittle from the outside.
Alice rounded the desk, arms spread. “Come here and give me a hug. What’s it been? Five years?”
“Something like that.”
Kiedra let Alice hug her, keeping some distance out of habit. Alice had been a cheerleader when they’d been in high school together. She’d never been particularly friendly toward Kiedra.
Alice’s smile slipped around the edge and Kiedra cursed silently. The last thing she wanted to do while she was in Whiteridge was alienate the locals. She tried to look friendlier.
Alice took the change in expression as a sign of friendship and reached out to pat Kiedra’s hand.
“You’re here to see Mamma, right?” she asked.
“Yeah. I came as soon as I could.”
“Of course, you did,” Alice said. “She’s in room 223. Up in−”
“Oncology. I know.”
“You know the way there?”
“I can find my way,” Kiedra said. “Thanks, Alice.”
“Don’t mention it.”
Kiedra felt Alice’s eyes on her the whole way to the elevator. When she turned back at the elevator door, she saw Alice reaching for her cell phone.
“Well, damn,” she whispered under her breath. “Nothing like having the town gossip be the first person you see.”
Alice waved and Kiedra offered a weak smile in return as she stepped onto the elevator and let the door close behind her.
“Calvin Levin, if you don’t get the hell away from me, I swear I’ll rip your arm out of the socket and beat you with it!”
“Now, Ms. Butter, you know I gotta give you the medicines and check your vitals. I’m just trying to do my job.” Calvin’s voice wavered and Kiedra wondered what new threat Mamma had whispered to the hospital staff member.
She stepped off the elevator, turning to see Calvin hurry out of room 223. His face flamed with color.
“You know she won’t really do whatever she threatened you with, Cal,” Kiedra smiled.
Calvin turned, saw her, and returned with a grin of his own.
“Maybe not herself, but she’ll get one of the boys to do it for her.”
Kiedra let Calvin pull her in for a hug and a kiss on the cheek. She closed her eyes and let herself accept the comfort he offered her.
“We weren’t sure you’d come,” he said.
“No one ignores a summons from Mamma, you know that.”
“Yeah, but you’re not...Well, we weren’t sure. I remember how much you wanted to leave Whiteridge.”
“She never wanted me to leave, though.”
KIEDRA held the envelope in her trembling hands. The Seattle University logo stamped on the upper left corner leaped from the paper to burn her eyes so that when she closed them, the logo danced behind her lids as a pale after image.
She turned the envelope over, stuck her finger into the flap and ripped it open. The letter inside was printed on heavy paper that felt silky in her hand. She made it no further than the first line before the first yelp left her lips.
“We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Seattle University and have been awarded the Johnstone Scholarship,” the letter read.
Kiedra whooped and hollered until Sylvia came running out onto the front porch.
“Kiedra Marianne Foster, what is all this racket?”
“I got in!” Kiedra held the letter above her head and ran for the house, stopping at the foot of the porch steps. “And I got the scholarship. Full ride, Mamma. Do you know what that means?”
Sylvia wiped her hands on the apron she wore over a threadbare blouse and jeans. She shook her head, a sad but resigned look on her face.
“It means that’ll look nice in a frame on your wall upstairs, Kiki. Nothing more. You know that.”
“I know no such thing. I worked my ass off for that scholarship. I’m not turning it down.�
�
“Watch your mouth,” Sylvia snapped. “You can’t go to college all the way in Seattle. You need to stay here. We talked about this. You’re going to go to the community college and that’s final.”
Kiedra shook her head. “You can’t keep me here. I’ll...I’ll die here, Mamma.” She walked up the steps to grasp Sylvia’s hand. “Please, Mamma. You don’t have to help me pay for it now. Full-ride means I don’t have to pay for anything to do with the schooling.”
Sylvia’s hand came up to cup Kiedra’s face. “Kiki, nothing would make me happier than to send you off to college with my blessing, but I can’t. They won’t understand in Seattle. They won’t know who you are and why you’re so special.”
Kiedra jerked away from Sylvia, her face contorted with pain and anger. “You want to smother me! Why? Why don’t you understand that I need to get away from here?”
She ran into the house, leaving Sylvia on the porch. Later, when she calmed down, Kiedra descended the stairs from the second floor and slunk into the kitchen.
Sylvia stood at the stove. She flipped a piece French toast in her favorite cast iron skillet before she pulled a pan from the oven and put it on the table in front of Kiedra.
“That pan’s hot. Be careful,” she said, returning to the stove. “Go on and eat while it’s hot.”
Kiedra moved two slices from the pan to her plate before reaching for the syrup. She let the sweet maple scent envelop her, closing her eyes to better soak it in.
Sylvia sat across from Kiedra, a plate of French toast in front of her. “Pass that syrup over here, please.”
Kiedra avoided Sylvia’s eyes as she pushed the pitcher across the table. She took a bite of her food, smiling at the warm, eggy goodness that was Sylvia’s famous French toast.
“I don’t say it much, but I hope you know that I love you,” Sylvia said between bites.
“I know, Mamma.”
“I want you to be happy, but I know, deep down, if you leave Whiteridge, you won’t come back. Not on your own.”
Kiedra looked up to find Sylvia’s straightforward eyes locked on her.
“Why do you say that? Everything I know is here. Of course, I’d come home.”
Sylvia shook her head. “I don’t want to argue about this. I just want you to know what I’m giving up by letting you go.”
Sylvia finished her French toast and got up to put the plate in the sink. She turned back to the table, leaning against the counter.
“You can go. To Seattle. With my blessing. But you have to promise that if anyone from the Pack ever calls and asks you to come back, you’ll do it.”
Kiedra wrapped her arms around Sylvia almost before she realized she’d gotten out of her chair.
“I promise, Mamma.” She danced around the kitchen a little. “I’m going to Seattle! I’m going to Seattle!”
KIEDRA stood outside room 223, arms crossed over her chest so she could hug herself. She didn’t want to see Mamma in a hospital bed, withered and weak. But she couldn’t be a coward about it either.
She peeked into the room. Sylvia lay on a bed, propped up by the mechanical lift and more pillows than Kiedra had ever seen in a hospital. The television was tuned to some court show and turned up loud enough to make Kiedra wince. Sylvia’s right hand, stained dark with nicotine, hovered near her mouth, looking naked and sad without the cigarette she’d held every waking moment for sixty years.
Kiedra pulled Calvin away from the door so Sylvia wouldn’t see them.
“How is she? Really?”
Calvin’s shoulders drooped. “She’s dying, Kiki.”
It felt like a knife twisted in her chest. It was one thing to hear Roland say it, but another entirely to hear it from a medical professional.
She swallowed hard over the lump in her throat. “How long?”
“Honestly, the doctors are baffled by how long she’s lasted. I heard one say a week ago that Mamma shoulda died ten years ago. Personally, I think it’s straight up evil that keeps her going.”
Kiedra smacked Calvin’s shoulder. “Be nice.”
“I will if she will.” Calvin glanced at the nurse’s station where a red light blinked. “I’ve got to go give Mrs. Johnston her sponge bath. Wanna have a beer with me tonight?”
Kiedra shook her head. “I’m sure I have chores at the house tonight. Raincheck?”
“Definitely.” Calvin hugged her again. “It’s really good to see you, Kiki. Even under these circumstances.”
“Ditto.”
Kiedra watched Calvin go to the nurse’s station, flip a switch and then head to Mrs. Johnston’s room. She turned toward room 223, but hesitated.
Sylvia had been right when she’d said Kiedra wouldn’t come back to Whiteridge willingly. She’d left for college, gotten her degree, and even taken a job in Seattle, but when the phone call had come, she’d dropped everything and flown in. Now, because of the promise she’d made to Sylvia, she stood in the hall outside room 223 and had no idea what to do next.
“Get in here, girl. I know you’re out there. I can hear you breathing.”
Sylvia’s raspy voice grated against Kiedra’s nerves. She could hear the years of smoking in that voice, but she also heard the voice of comfort in the dark from her childhood, and mixed in with both was the sound of death.
A chill ran up Kiedra’s spine. “I’m coming, Mamma.”
Sylvia sat up straighter and held out her left hand. Kiedra crossed to the bed and took it. Her heart clenched in her chest when she felt the frail, thin bones under the papery skin. Where was the strong, vibrant woman who had raised her? Where had this old, sick woman come from?
“Give me a kiss, Kiki. Might make up for you never calling. Not even on Christmas.”
Kiedra leaned in and kissed Sylvia’s cheek.
“I’m sorry, Mamma. I should have−”
“No, don’t. You were living. That’s what I always wanted for you, you know. For you to live a big life and be happy.”
Kiedra shot Sylvia a look.
“Don’t you look at me like that, girl. Maybe I didn’t say it to you, but I believed you were better than this town. You had more to do. Now, I know your big life and happiness are here.”
“What are you talking about?”
Sylvia clung to Kiedra’s hand like a burr. She tugged with the little strength she had and Kiedra leaned in.
“It’s time, Kiki. The next Alpha will be chosen, and you must be there.”
AXE leaned into the doorway of room 223.
“Mamma, how you doing to....”
His eyes locked with Kiedra’s and lit up, his words lost. Before Kiedra could stop him, Axe scooped her up and swung her around.
“Kiki! When did you get here?”
Kiedra laughed and clung to Axe, even after he set her on her feet.
“Just this morning.”
“Well, you sure are a sight for sore eyes,” Axe said.
“And look at you, Stringbean! You grew into those ears finally.”
Axe ducked his head and pushed his sandy hair over his right ear.
“Yeah, well, funny what working sixteen hours a day on a road crew will do for you.”
“If you two are done with your catch-up, the dying woman over here wants a hug from her favorite boy.”
Axe’s head snapped up and turned to Sylvia.
“Sorry, Mamma. I shoulda come to you first.”
“You’re forgiven, now where’s my hug?”
Kiedra stepped back to let Axe pass. She watched him move, a tiny, secret smile on her lips.
Axe had been a scrawny eighteen-year-old boy the last time she’d seen him. A gangly boy who’d tagged after her every summer at Sylvia’s house when he came to stay.
“Stringbean, move your ass! We’re gonna be late for dinner!”
Kiedra ran backward a few steps so she could see if Axe was making any progress. He ran awkwardly, all arms and legs flailing, but he covered a lot of ground with only a few steps. As he gai
ned on her, she turned and ran forward again.
Axe’s labored breathing was loud in her ear as he approached and then passed her by.
“Now who’s slow?” he taunted.
Kiedra put more power into her pumping legs and the two of them crossed into Sylvia’s yard together. Kiedra pushed just a little harder so her foot was first to touch the porch. She stopped and walked up and down the wooden slats to cool down before sitting on the top step with Axe.
“You’re getting better,” she said.
“You’re a good coach.”
Sylvia came out onto the porch. She carried two sweating glasses of water.
“Be careful, that just came up from the well. You don’t want cramps.”
Axe and Kiedra both took a glass, watching Sylvia head back into the house.
“She tells us that every single time,” Axe mused.
“It’s her way of saying she loves us.” Kiedra took a careful sip and set the glass on the step beside her. She stared out at the landscape, watching the sun dip down to the horizon.
“I wish you weren’t going,” Axe said.
“I wish you were coming with me.”
“You know I can’t. No money. No family to help. I gotta take that job with the county or I’ll be living in my car and eating out of dumpsters.”
“Mamma wouldn’t let that happen.”
Axe shrugged. “I can’t live off her kindness forever. Better I get started on being an adult sooner rather than later.”
Kiedra nodded. She leaned in and kissed Axe’s cheek. “Come on. Let’s get dinner.”
She stood and held out her hand to him. Axe took it and stood up beside her. He hugged her tight before pushing her ahead of him and into the house.
KIEDRA smiled at the memory. That boy had been her first crush and the person she’d cried to when her first boyfriend had broken her heart. But this man in the room with her now, this wasn’t a boy by any means. Tall, strong, and bulging with muscles, Axe made Kiedra’s heart thump just a little harder in her chest.