Chapter 2

Over the next few days, it becomes abundantly clear my suppressants are failing.

Faster than seems possible.

I get multiple comments from customers at work, but when a few of my alpha coworkers start acting differently and actually follow me around the restaurant, I realize I can't put it off any longer.

Having insurance through my employer is convenient, but my doctor's appointments aren't free.

Money isn't a good excuse to avoid getting answers, even though my anxiety tries to convince me it is.

I buckle down and call to schedule an appointment. Luckily, they're able to fit me in tomorrow, but I'm still nervous about the entire ordeal.

My appointment is a disaster.

I've been on suppressants for just shy of two years, which is apparently the longest most doctors will prescribe them without a year break in between.

Dr. Meyers flat-out refuses to refill my prescription. She won't discuss the possibility of a stronger brand, and she talks over me any time I try to bring up my very legitimate concerns.

I try to explain that the only reason I've been able to keep a job is because I take suppressants. She doesn't seem to care or understand that I don't have a family pack that I can rely on to help me financially.

The nurse comes in to draw blood for lab work, and Dr. Meyers explains my blood tests will be back in a few days. It should give an indication of exactly how soon my heat will start after my last dose of suppressants.

She also tries to give me a card for matching services and a pamphlet for the OPA, better known as the Omega Protection Authority. Unfortunately, that place is corrupt as hell. They push matching for unbonded omegas, even if it isn't an ideal match.

I want no part of any of that.

I'm open to bonding and finding a pack, but I need it to be made up of people I'm genuinely attracted to.

I honestly don't know where this leaves me.

I'm able to afford my apartment, and life in general, because I work five or six days a week.

If I miss an entire week—or more, considering she said my first heat after taking suppressants for so long could be hellacious—there's a very real possibility I will lose my job.

I have a little money saved up, but not two months of bills. This could have devastating consequences for my future.

Also, I need to find alphas that I like.

Fast.

Like, between now and when I take my last suppressant.

I have less than three weeks of pills left.

My chest feels so tight, I think I'm on the verge of having a panic attack as I shove out the glass door leading to the parking lot.

I'm actually more stressed out now than I was when I went to get tested for STIs after learning Will was cheating on me. We always used condoms, but I still needed to be sure.

Luckily, everything was negative, but this feels like my world is falling apart.

I exhale heavily, aiming for the parking lot.

Picking up my car from the restaurant the other morning was a pain in the ass, but even when we go to the club, it's so close that we walk instead of driving and fighting for parking there.

I take the corner to walk to the back of the building where the parking spots are, but I slam face-first into someone's shoulder.

"Oh, shit," Kennedy says. "Hey, girl!"

I recognize the voice before I can see her face.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" Will asks, holding on to Kennedy's arm.

I'm left to keep myself upright on my own, and my shoulder slams into the brick wall of the building.

Seriously?

I have to see the happy couple again?

I'm pretty sure I did something to genuinely upset the universe.

I like to think I'm a good person.

I don't purposely screw people over.

I'm excellent at minding my own business, so why is karma punishing me so hard?

"I'm fine." Kennedy giggles. "Sorry, Laken. We've got to run. I've got an appointment in fifteen minutes."

I'm ninety-seven percent sure she knows Will and I dated for almost nine months. At the very least, I guess it's nice she's not being rude, considering the uncomfortable situation we find ourselves in.

Will gives me a very confused once-over as I lean against the brick wall for support. I'm too exhausted to care what he thinks. My system is majorly overwhelmed.

My eyes fall shut as my stomach rolls.

It's not just seeing them together that has me out of sorts. The bomb Dr. Meyers dropped on me sits on my chest like a boulder.

The warm sun beats on my face as the noise of the busy Chicago streets fills the air. From the sounds of it, Kennedy and Will head inside the building for her appointment.

"Why are you here?" Locke growls, making me jump.

My feet leave the pavement as I jolt, and my eyes pop open. "I had a doctor's appointment. Why are you here?"

"For the love of God," Locke hisses, running his fingers over my cheek. "Tell me he didn't knock you up too?"

"Ew," I grunt, slapping his hand away. "I was here, trying to get a refill on my suppressants."

He hums, shoving his dark hair behind his ear as the ends whip around in the wind.

I snort. "Except, a refill is a no-go. The doctor said I need to take a break. My body is rejecting them, meaning I have three weeks or less to find a compatible pack and a way to sweet-talk my job into not firing me when they hear the news."

"Christ." His pointy canines dig into his plush lower lip as he studies my face. "That's a lot."

"Yeah," I agree, blowing air through my closed lips.

"Are you doing okay other than that?" he asks.

"I'm good." I force a polite smile that feels especially fake.

"Come on. I'll walk you to your car." He doesn't give me the chance to object.

Not that I would have.

It's daytime in the middle of a busy area of the city, but the closer I get to my heat, the more attention I seem to garner.

"Thanks."

"You need a keeper." He keeps me close to the building, mean-mugging every businessman and hipster that walks past us. "You smell way too enticing to be out and about without security. At the very least, you need a pack to watch your back."

I almost snort.

So much for him not being attracted to my scent.

"Is Kennedy really pregnant?" I ask, because my brain is kinda stuck on that.

"That's what she said." He shrugs. "You dodged a bullet there."

"Yeah." My car comes into sight, and I pick up the pace to get to it.

"You can't seriously be stuck on William." He laughs. "That's just sad."

It's not that I would choose to be with Will, because I really wouldn't.

I think my feelings are hurt, and my self-worth took a hit after realizing he didn't care about me at all.

Maybe it was the lack of an apology when I had to be rescued by Locke.

I'm not sure, but I think that day would have gone differently if he wasn't around to call off that guy.

"Thanks for looking after me again," I say as we make it to the hood of my car.

"Someone needs to." Locke chuckles, squeezing my hip. "Now I just feel like I'm beating a dead horse. Do me a favor?"

"What?"

"Keep yourself out of trouble." He shoves his tattooed hands into the front pockets of his jeans.

I lick my lips like a total creeper, studying his veiny, tattoo-covered forearms.

"I'll try." I laugh. "Honestly, in general, my life is pretty boring."

Locke gives me a dubious look, but a slow smile crosses his face a second later. "I've got an idea. How about you go out with me on Friday night?"

My lips tip up, but I try to keep my face mostly unaffected. "Really?"

"Yeah." He smirks. "Unless you're not interested."

"I am." I grin, trying to keep my knees from wobbling. He's incredibly attractive when his dimples pop in that dark stubble that lines his jaw. "Okay, that sounds nice."

"Don't forget to text me what time you're free. That way, I'll have your number. Go on, hop in. I'm not leaving until you're inside the vehicle." He nods for me to get into the car. "And make sure you wear something sexy for me." He winks, and my heart races.

Holy shit.

Locke might be more than I can handle.

My day has been a roller coaster. When I'm overwhelmed, I sleep. I'm half out of it when someone bangs on my front door, waking me up from my pre-work nap. That's probably why I open the door without checking the peephole.

"Laken," my sister, Lyra, says, grabbing me as soon as the door opens. "God, I've missed you so much."

My mouth opens and closes as I try to figure out what to say. I haven't seen my sister in close to three years. Well, not in person. We video chat a couple times a week when we can sync our schedules.

Lyra is as beautiful as ever, with her blondish-brown hair up in a ponytail and her lithe neck showing with the off-the-shoulder shirt she wears.

I stumble back as she wraps her arms under mine, hugging me tightly.

"What are you doing here?" I finally manage to choke out.

"What? Can't I pop in and visit my favorite sister?"

I laugh, but it's forced. "I'm your only sister."

"Semantics." She grins, finally releasing me. "This place is nice. I couldn't see much on our video chats, but it's impressive."

"Thanks." I step back, gesturing for her to come in.

The new couch and dining table were from Will, but I've done a fair amount of purchasing for myself too.

It's taken a few years of working nonstop, but I've finally got my head above water and a nice amount of wiggle room.

My doctor's appointment and everything that happened this morning replays in my head.

That comfortable breathing room with bills is no longer a guarantee.

My job feels secure because they haven't had to accommodate heat leave. If I can no longer secure a prescription for suppressants, then it's highly likely they'll start looking for any excuse to fire me. They won't use anything related to me being an omega as the reason, but I've seen it happen to other people.

"Earth to Laken," Lyra says, bumping her shoulder against mine.

I jolt.

She carried in her backpack, duffel bag, and a large suitcase, all while I daydreamed.

This isn't good.

"Where's the boyfriend?" she asks, shutting the door for me. "Is he at work?"

"We broke up."

"I'm sorry." Lyra tries to pull me in for another hug, but something in her scent is off.

"No, it's totally fine." I wrap my sweater tighter around my middle and walk toward the couch. "He's a dick, anyway."

"That's men in general." Lyra chuckles, coming to check out my makeshift nest on the couch. "Wait, did you quit taking your suppressants?"

My head shakes as I grab the fuzzy blanket that I don't want corrupted with her scent. "No, they've just been working less and less."

I frown.

It's hard to talk to Lyra about anything having to do with being an omega. She was devastated when she didn't present. At almost twenty-five, it's a statistical improbability that she ever will. Her scent is sweet enough that it convinced all of us she would be an omega, but the hormones that signal presenting is close never showed up in her blood work.

"That sucks," she says, picking at her thumbnail. "You know there are places you can sell your heat and make absolute fucking bank. Annika, my roommate, works at a club where members can bid on an omega's heat. The omega sets up all the rules. It seems pretty safe, and I'm sure they've got places like that here too."

Locke's dimples and long hair instantly come to mind. His muscular chest, stretching his T-shirt to capacity comes next.

Exploring things with him sounds like a much better plan to me, but there's ultimately no guarantee one alpha would be enough to comfortably ride out my heat.

Or that we'll truly click.

There's chemistry there, but I don't want to jinx myself by counting on him just yet. I think it's best to see how things go Friday night.

"If it gets bad, I'll give it some thought, but what about you? You haven't been back to Chicago in years. Is everything okay?" I twist toward her to study her face, but she refuses to make eye contact.

A fake smile plasters across her face. "I just missed you. So, tell me about William. What happened there?"

"Ugh," I groan, my head rolling back against the couch cushion. "His personality is shit. Not to mention, he's into some shady stuff."

My sister's head tilts. "Wait, what? I thought he was a businessman."

I snort, laughing at how naive I was. "Yeah, so did I until…" I go on, filling her in about that disaster. "It was the last straw. That reminds me, I still haven't bothered giving back his key." I shrug. "I definitely need to tackle that, eventually."

Seeing him with Kennedy this morning hammered that point home. Maybe I can give it to Locke this Friday. That way, he can hand it off to Will, and I can finally be done.

"Damn." She sighs, stretching back against the couch cushion. "I guess that explains why your location is always at work or home. I thought maybe the two of you switched to hanging out here."

I frown.

I totally forgot about location sharing.

I guess, since I never bother to check hers, I thought she was probably the same. It also explains how she knew I would be at home.

"Enough about that. Tell me, what in the world are you doing here?" I ask, trying to keep my voice playful. "You didn't even give me a warning that you were coming."

"Sorry," she says, looking contrite. "I really missed you, and I needed a break from Vegas. Some stuff happened with my roommate, and I had to get away for a while. Can I stay with you for a few days?"

There's a weird wobble in my stomach.

Sometimes omegas pick up on the emotions of those around us.

I'm not sure if I'm picking up her discomfort or my own. My impulses think of this apartment as my nest, and as catty as it sounds, I don't know that I want anyone else around.

She's also my sister.

"Yeah, of course. You're more than welcome," I say, forcing a smile that I hope comes off as sincere. "I do have to work tonight, though. So, I won't be around to hang out."

"That's okay," she says. "The drive kicked my ass."

"You can nap in my room while I get ready for work." Honestly, it's that or the couch, since this is a one-bedroom apartment.

"You're the best, Laken."

I love my job.

I really do.

Not even the crappy tippers or the groups that ask for a different thing every time I swing by their table, instead of making a comprehensive list, can ruin a good night for me. The fact I have a closing shift tonight, followed by an opening shift tomorrow morning, could threaten to ruin my bliss, but it's the nature of the beast when working in restaurants.

I'm beat, my feet are sweaty from the sneakers my job requires, and I might have to share my bed with my sister if I can't figure out how to kick her out onto the couch.

Some days are definitely crappier than others.

I balance the take-out box of chicken tenders and cheesecake in one hand while trying to get my keys out of my bag with the other.

My eating preferences have a lot to say about my state of mind.

I needed comfort foods all the way.

My head tilts as I try to parcel out what that sound is that's coming from the stairwell.

It could be a herd of drunk frat-bros or possibly elephants.

No.

It has to be at least three or four guys coming up the stairs, based on the sounds.

I frown.

It's not that I live in a terrible building, but it's not like I can afford a doorman, either.

They don't head up another level, and my panic rises as they approach.

I keep my head down, frantically digging in my purse for my keys.

It dawns on me a half second too late.

I shoved them into my sweater pocket so I wouldn't have to scour my bag again once I got upstairs.

I move to grab them, but one of the guys grabs me.

"Is that Lyra?"

"It's her," I hear him say before everything goes black.

I wake up with a pounding skull and intense confusion. My entire body aches as I try to move, but opening my eyes takes every ounce of strength I can muster. My hands are tied behind my back, and my feet are immobile, too, but I can't tilt my head far enough to tell why.

Everything is fuzzy, and nausea rolls through my stomach. My hair falls over my face as I breathe through the overwhelming panic.

There are voices nearby, and it takes me a few seconds to realize…

I'm in a moving vehicle.

This isn't good.

Omegas hear it our entire lives—we're more likely to be stolen and trafficked than any other designation. Female omegas are in higher demand than even male omegas.

Oh, God.

My dads were right when they said I should find a decent pack and bond as soon as possible. I thought they were being sexist dicks, which, let's face it, there's a reason neither Lyra nor I have talked to them since our mom died. Still, they may have been right. Being bonded to kinda boring middle-class alphas would give me some level of safety.

My mind is still fuzzy, but I start to wonder if this has anything to do with Will. I don't think he's involved in anything quite as dramatic as human trafficking, but also…

There was a person tied to a chair in his dining room the last time I was at his house. His shady men also know that I saw it all. We ran into each other at my doctor's office today.

It might have been yesterday.

I have no way of knowing how much time has passed.

What if he saw me and that reminded him that I know stuff he doesn't want getting out?

It's honestly the only thing I can come up with.

The more I struggle against the bindings, the more they dig into my skin.

My entire body aches like someone beat the hell out of me, but all I can hope is that it's a side effect of being drugged.

I try to listen in on what's being said, but I can't make out any actual words since they're speaking in low tones. It takes me way too long to remember they called my sister's name when they snatched me from my door.

I bite my lip to keep from sobbing.

Lyra has always done what she wants. It got her in a shitload of trouble when we were growing up, and apparently, it's spilling over to include me too.

This is a nightmare.

We look so much alike that I guess they don't realize they grabbed the wrong person. We both have light-brown hair, oval faces, and soft noses, but I have icy blue eyes that are so pale that, most of the time, they look gray. There's just a really dark ring of blue around my outer iris.

Lyra's eyes are more of a blue-green. She's also three inches taller than I am and probably thirty pounds lighter.

She's lost a ton of weight since the last time I saw her.

I almost brought it up before I left for work because she no longer has that toned, athletic figure that she's always had. She seemed almost gaunt. I also knew it could turn into a fight really fast if I said the wrong thing.

What I don't know is how these people could mistake me for her. It doesn't help that I have no idea why they would want her in the first place.