Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

brANSON

One Week Later

"Okay, Mrs. Conners," I chuckle, kneeling down in front of her after helping her back into her chair. "Seems like everything is in order. Do you have your food and medicine nearby so I can get it for you?"

I smile down at the older woman and shake my head at her antics. Another week; another call. All of us EMTs go in knowing she's probably okay, but we still take each call seriously, just in case. We never know when the next call will be the call.

With a large smile, she pats my thigh, coming perilously close to my crotch. Luckily, a simple shift of my hips brings my cock away from her questing hand. Though she doesn't show her disappointment on her face, I can feel it in the way she drops her hand and brings it back into her lap.

"I'm good for now. My son should be here soon, and he can get it."

"Sounds like a plan. Glad to see your eyesight is doing better. Just gotta make sure you keep those legs strong so you don't have another tumble."

I look her over again, making sure I didn't miss any bruises or signs of physical damage. As with all these weekly visits, she's fine. Just lonely and a bit horny. Some days, I have half a mind to take her alert necklace with me, but I don't ever want her in a position where she can't ask for help if she really needs it.

Smiling, I rise and shake my head, stifling a chuckle. "You have to stop meeting me like this. There are easier ways to get a date."

"Yes, but none of the Alphas who look as good as you EMT guys will look twice at an old omega like me. Besides, it's nice being lifted and carried by such a strapping man like yourself."

"You flatter me."

Honestly, if it were anyone other than me and my crew, they'd probably be up in arms over her blatant sexual harassment, but we don't mind. After all, one day these calls will stop, and I, for one, will miss them. Giving her one final look over, I take my gear and head back to the ambulance.

So far, her call has been the only one on this slow day, so it was very nice to have a distraction that wasn't an emergency. Unfortunately, all that does is bring to mind another non-emergency that I'd much rather forget. Adjusting the strap on my bag, I toss it into the back and ride up front with Jackson, needing his incessant music and off-key singing to distract me.

I fucked up. I shouldn't have treated her like she was my pet at the local kink club. Especially not in uniform. Thankfully, no one looked too closely at my report to notice all the missing details. I think they were just happy that the Astencourts were satisfied with my level of care and didn't cause a scene.

Granted, I'm still not sure why they didn't come hunt me down in person. Their type is usually quick to find some fault with the medical staff, no matter how meticulous we are. But then, I'm pretty sure the princess in her ivory tower wouldn't say anything.

After a week without so much as a whisper, I think I'm in the clear. Staring out of the window, a smirk tilts my lips as Jackson starts in on his rendition of a rock song I've never heard before. He cranks up the volume, blasting it so loudly, I nearly miss my phone going off.

Odd. I usually have it set on Do Not Disturb while I'm on shift. Grabbing it out of my pocket, I note the unknown number, my curiosity piquing.

UNKNOWN NUMBER

Hi! We have found you a mate. To ensure proper preparations for your big day, be at the Rockhound's Community Center tomorrow by 2 pm sharp. Do not be late. Your presence is non-negotiable. If you are not here at the designated time, officers will be sent to your location to retrieve you. Enjoy your day to the fullest!

Blood drains from my face and settles deep into my gut. I suppose it's only a matter of time, but part of me never thought it would happen. Years have gone by, and nothing. I thought I was in the clear. Apparently not.

Running my hand through my hair, I let out a frustrated sigh as I switch my communicator into active mode. Messages ping nearly non-stop from my family as they share their congratulations. Seems as if they've already been notified. I wonder which friends of mine they'll invite to stand beside me.

With a frown, Jackson digs his hand into pocket and pulls out his communicator and places it on the magnetic strip on the dashboard. Every so often, he glances down then looks over at me, a large grin easing across his face.

"Well I'll be damned. Look at you joining the married squad!"

"Yes," I murmur, pocketing the device so I can pretend it's not happening for just a few more minutes. "Goody."

"Don't be like that. I'm sure she's the perfect omega for you. I know I've been so happy ever since Erin was forced into my life. I'm sure Mikey would say the same thing."

It's true. From the moment Mikey was bound to Christine, he's been non-stop grinning ear to ear. Happy. Content. Peaceful. All things I should want. Only, with a wedding imminent, it means I need to rethink things.

No longer is it about me. It's about us. Not every omega is cut out to be a mate to a first responder. Will my bride demand I change my entire life for her? Once again, my mind drifts to the little anal princess I helped out several days ago.

There's no way someone like her would be able to handle a life like this. I saw how she lived, saw the fear of being discovered in such a state from someone less than her... ‘someone like you'. Though she tried her best to cover it up by saying it's because I'm an Alpha, I know better.

Her face was so damned expressive that it was apparent. Despite her obvious disdain for my job and station, I still find myself getting hard just thinking about her. Thankfully, Jackson sits next to me, oblivious, and he talks about various anecdotes he might tell the Governing Body so my wife knows all about me.

Joy.

Shaking my head, I run my hand down my face. Seems as if I have some affairs to put in order before tomorrow. Thankfully, since it's government mandated, I should have no problem getting off work for my wedding and a brief honeymoon. Of course, I'll need to get my apartment ready for a wife.

Fuck. Of all the times to have this happen, it had to be when I'm least prepared for it. But then, I'm sure the sadistic government does that on purpose. If there was more time, there'd be a bigger chance of people finding a way out of it. The only consolation is my new bride is having to do the same thing. In this way, I'm not alone.

The rest of my shift goes by pretty mildly. Not enough to take my mind off of what's happening tomorrow, but not so slowly that I have time to truly overthink. As I trudge up the walkway to my apartment, I can't help the groan that rips from my lips.

Cars line the driveway, and based on the make and model, I know it's my family. I should be happy and grateful they want to be in my life, but part of me really wants to just be left alone so I can deal with this myself. Knowing them, they'll take my home apart and turn it into something I really don't want.

Casting my gaze up into the night sky, I steel myself for the barrage I know is to come. The instant I step inside, they all descend on me en masse, their shouts of excitement hurting my ears. For them, I shove my discomfort aside and allow them to embrace me.

"Who do you think it can be?" my mother questions, flitting her fingers over my uniform to smooth out the wrinkles. "Perhaps it's someone we know?"

"Oh, God, I hope not," I groan, setting my stuff down. "Can you imagine? I'll have to gut the place and make it all nice and shit."

"Branson," my father chides, a ghost of a smile twitching at his lips. "Don't curse in front of your mother or sister. It isn't polite."

Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I shove past them and into the kitchen where they all follow behind like little lemmings. I ignore them as I dig around for one of my protein drinks. As I turn, they all look at me, their eyes wide with expectation.

"Can't a man enjoy his dinner?"

My mother screws up her face into a distasteful frown, as if I'm making her drink the stuff instead of me. "That's your dinner? What about some real food?" She turns to dad. "Richard, shouldn't we have some food brought over? He can't serve sludge to his new wife."

"Now, now, Julianna," he murmurs, bringing her hand against his chest. "I'm sure we've raised Branson better than that." He looks over her head and levels a stern, fatherly glare in my direction. "Didn't we?"

"I'm not feeding my new wife a protein shake. That is, unless she wants one. Satisfied?"

"Hardly!" Mom cries out, storming over to the fridge. "You have nothing in here. What are you going to feed her? Where are you going to house her? This place is far too small. A bachelor pad!"

Setting my drink down, I run a weary hand over my face. "Until tomorrow, I am, in fact, a bachelor."

"Yes, but you don't have to live like one."

"Julianna, leave the boy alone. It's his life. We've agreed to not interfere."

"Yes, but if he's starving-"

A bark of laughter rips from my throat as I double over. "Do I look like I'm starving? I'm fine."

"But your wife-"

"Will be fine. Let me find out who it is first before I make too drastic a change. Who knows, maybe she likes small spaces."

"Oh, Richard," she pleads as she turns in my father's arms. "I can't stand the idea of some poor omega not having somewhere nice to live."

"She won't, Mom," I grind out. "We can make the decision together. I have to get married first."

"That's all well and good," my sister pipes up, stepping out from behind my brothers. "But you are going to clean first. Right?"

I cross my arms and stare her down. "What exactly is that supposed to mean? My apartment isn't filthy."

"It isn't clean either," she counters. "You have laundry in the hamper, scum in the shower, and your toilet is a bit worse for wear."

"Are you volunteering to be my maid?"

"Ick no," she snaps out, shuddering at the very thought.

"Didn't think so. Now, if you're all done smothering me with love, well wishes, and criticism, I apparently have a lot to do before tomorrow."

"It's not criticism, dear," my mother attempts to soothe. "More like we care about you and worry about you. You haven't been by for dinner in months. No phone calls. No check ins. I just want you safe and happy."

"I am happy, Mom. Remember, I chose this life. I chose this career. As far as dinners go, you got me there. Things have been pretty busy, and I've needed rest more than I've needed food and family."

"Well, be sure to bring your wife over at some point. I'd at least like to have a bit of a relationship with my new daughter-in-law."

"Yeah," my sister joins in. "And it would be nice to have someone else to possibly hang out with besides these two buffoons."

"Hey now," my brothers interject, scooping her up in a playful bearhug.

As much as I love my life and independence, part of me misses the ease in which my family seems to navigate life. Shaking my head at their antics, I grab my protein drink and take another swig.

"Don't worry, Mom. I'll make sure to RSVP and show up with bells on."

"Oh, Branson. You know bells are so tacky."

I give her a wink before taking another swig. "That's why we'll be wearing them."

"He's teasing, dear," Father murmurs, his smile growing to fill his face.

"Well, I can never be sure. He always seems to want to vex me."

"I'm the second son. That's my job. Jacob here is the obedient first born, never giving you an ounce of trouble. Astor is the third born, which makes him the spoiled baby boy. So I have to stay firmly in my role as a rebellious middle son."

"What am I then? I'm younger than Astor."

"You, my dear Amelia, are the princess of the family. To be doted on as if you were royalty."

She jostles her shoulders as she preens. "I'll take that."

"Princess," my mom chuckles. "That's rich."

"Hey. I don't make the rules."

My mother shakes her head and walks over to give me a big hug. "As for being rebellious, you could have done a lot worse. Tattoos, motorcycles. Helping people is a very noble pursuit."

"Hey, you never know. I could have some tattoos hidden somewhere on me."

For a second, she looks me over, her eyes widening in horror. But just as soon as the look crosses her face, it drops. "Oh, you're teasing me again."

"Yes, Mother," I confirm, laughing at the distasteful frown pulling down her lips. "I am."

As the rest of the family files out, Dad hangs back and slips his hand into his pocket. "I know you're probably going to just rip this up, but I feel like getting married is cause for celebration. Since we do not have to pay for a wedding, it's only fair that some of what we're saving goes toward a honeymoon. Take her somewhere nice. If she is indeed the perfect mate for you, then you'll want to have those memories."

I frown as I take the check from him. "You do know I do well enough with my job. I can afford to take her somewhere nice."

"Then put it towards a place for you both together. Food, bedding. I don't care what you do with the money. It's yours. Free and clear."

Turning it over, my eyes bulge out of my sockets. "No. This is far too much."

"Of all the things you could rebel against, I'll never understand why you won't let us help you."

"I need to do this on my own. I can't come running to you and Mom if I have a problem. I've done quite well for the last several years. Everything I own is mine. I don't owe anyone anything."

"You won't owe us for this, Son. It's a gift. Free and clear."

Shaking my head, I slide it back over to him. "Make it a reasonable number, and I'll consider it."

With a heavy sigh, Dad picks it back up and tucks it into his pocket before pulling out his checkbook. "You are so stubborn."

"Come by it honestly."

"That you do, my boy. That you do. I just feel guilty that we won't be able to attend the ceremony. I cannot get off of work and your mother already has commitments she can't get out of. Your sister is taking exams tomorrow and your brothers are in meetings all day. Please. Let me make it up to you."

I give my head a firm shake. "I don't blame you for this. I blame a government that seems to have technology enough to find perfect matches but not allow us enough time to plan. You giving me far more money than necessary isn't going to change that."