Page 73 of Scheme
I signed off instantly, planting my forehead on the desk with a groan. Without a doubt, everyone in the firm would be tittering over that comment at tea break today. I added that to my list of silver linings at being kicked out of the office.
Fortunately, my day improved after that. I finally received some documents I’d been waiting on, and Kit sent me a picture of his lunch after his meeting with his agent that I found weirdly cute in a way I couldn’t quite describe to myself.
It was so… domestic?
Throughout my adult life, I’d never had a significant other. I’d never had someone who’d just… send me a picture of what they were eating just because they wanted to share something about their day with me. It was a level of intimacy I’d never experienced before, and it was far more dangerous to my rock-solid emotional walls than anything else Kit and I had shared.
When Kit said he was going to prove to me that he was serious, he may have actually meant it.
Me: Those strawberries look so good.
I tacked on a drooling face emoji at the end before setting my status to ‘Away’ and heading out of the office. Usually, I preferred to go to the supermarket early in the morning when it was mostly deserted, but I sort of felt like I’d die if I didn’t get strawberries that very minute.
The joys of pre-heat.
If there was one thing I’d got good at after so many heats alone, it was identifying the things I could do beforehand to make the five days easier. A craving for strawberries, from past experience, indicated a vitamin C deficiency that my body was flagging before my heat struck.
I grabbed my raincoat and rolling bag on the way out the door, clumsily shoving my arms through the sleeves as I made my way down the stairs. It was a typical spring day—grey and pouring with rain, which at least meant there wasn’t a throng of people to navigate through on the high street.
My hood was up and head bowed to stop my face from getting wet, and I let out a muffled shriek of surprise as someone ahead of me grabbed my arm, yanking me into a small loading area lined with dumpsters next to the pizza restaurant.
The metal handle of my bag clattered on the concrete as I yanked my arm free, stumbling back against the concrete wall I’d been steered into.
“You’ve really been playing hard to get, haven’t you?” Jimmy asked, standing between me and the street. “I’ve been double-checking with your dad, and he keeps saying ‘No, Jim, she’s not courting anyone, she’s just playing games with you, paying some alpha to scentmark her house’, but I got to say, you really had me wondering.”
He chuckled to himself while my eyes darted around the loading bay, seeking out an escape route, or witnesses, or both. Ideally both.
Unfortunately, the rain seemed to have driven everyone off the street, and Jimmy was doing a solid job of looming over me.
“This may shock you,” I said drily, hoping to appear unbothered as I stalled for time. “But my father is actually not the authority over whether or not I’m courting someone. I am, and Iam, so you may go.”
“Careful now, girl,” Jimmy warned with a slightly sinister grin. “You know we alphas love a chase. Teddie said you’d be a high-class omega who needed a bit of wooing.”
Who the fuck was Teddie?
While he talked, I slipped my hand into my purse, flicking open the small knife I kept in there for emergencies.
“I don’t need wooing—”
“Now, now, I won’t have any more of this protesting,” Jimmy interrupted. Inside my purse, I ran the pad of my thumb along the blade of the knife. “You sent that cute little picture of your toys, I know there’s no alpha in your life, and your dad has made his stance on the matter clear. You’re going to be mine, omega, no need to fuss about it.”
“Fortunately, I’m not a minor and my dad has no say over my life,” I replied with a syrupy sweet smile, stepping into his space. Jimmy didn’t back up, didn’t so much as flinch. Ah, to be alpha, walking around thinking you were untouchable. “You ought to be careful threatening omegas in alleyways, you know. You might come across an old spinster who has enough experience with pushy alphas to threaten right back.”
I whipped my hand out of my bag, swiping my bleeding thumb across his mouth. Jimmy’s eyes widened in horror as he frantically wiped the blood away with his sleeve, spitting and cursing the whole time, but I was already running, abandoning my rolling bag and relying on the adrenaline coursing through my veins to keep me upright and moving.
In truth, it was barely any blood. At most, it would give Jimmy a headache and a dry throat, and even that was doubtful since he’d immediately wiped it off.
Still, despite what I’d said, I didn’t make a habit of threatening alphas with my toxic omega blood, and I didn’t feel particularly good about it.
I rushed home, inhaling the faint remains of Kit’s scent on the front door from when he’d marked it on Friday before sprinting up the stairs and letting myself into my flat. I made a beeline for the bathroom to clean the small cut before wrapping it in a bandage. A small blot appeared almost instantly, the wound seeping through the bandage, but it would heal before long.
The whole incident had left me shaken. How awful must that omega who Calum had bitten have felt? Howtraumatised? Vaguely, I recalled there were treatment centres that omegas could go to, alpha-free facilities that were meant to offer them respite. Undoubtedly, that was the first place my parents’ PI would be looking for them.
Me: Did you ever find out the name of that detective?
I flicked off the message to Chelsea, taking a few deep breaths to get my erratic breathing under control.
Chelsea: Oh! I forgot to look. I’ll get onto that.
