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“Good girl,” she says, her small comment enough to ease the tightness in my chest. “I knew you were smarter than you looked. And you’re right. I said I should call the authorities, but you know me better than that. I don’t want them anywhere near my business, but I also don’t want to risk the status of the Vixen Lounge. You know that many of the Pack Regime leaders visit. If they knew I was harboring an unbonded unregistered omega, I would be the one at fault. You know it costs me thousands of dollars to house my current Gorgeous Girls, and they all have been acquired legally through their packs. So, to skirt around the law, I’m going to give you two choices.” Madame Tamsin touches my chin, pinching my skin between her fingers as she forces me to meet her gaze. “I have an opportunity that will benefit us both. You can either accept my offer and be one of my traveling Gorgeous Girls, appreciating my generosity and minding your manners as one of my personal entertainers, or you can find out what it’s like to be the omega of the Devil Lands. Your pussy is worth a decent price to those alphas.”
My stomach twists and I press my tongue to the roof of my mouth, praying that I don’t get sick. The Devil Lands is the nickname of the community just outside the Gutter District, controlled by alphas who were denied positions of power within the Pack Regimes. I’d rather her just turn me into the authorities than have her sell me like a piece of property to a gang that is known to breed and kill omegas, ensuring they don’t bond.
“Please, Madame Tamsin. I’ll do anything for your generosity.” I flutter my eyelashes, trying to keep my heart from exploding.
“I know you will. You don’t have a choice. Thank your good fortune that you caught me in a pleasant mood.” Madame Tamsin releases pressure from my throat. She lowers me to my feet, parting her plum-colored lips with a smile. I shouldn’t be so scared of a grin. But it triggers something dark and terrifying in me.
I don’t respond to her, breaking my stare, doing my best not to set off her dominance.
“You know, I take care of my Gorgeous Girls. But you’re not quite good enough for that. I have a better idea and something more suited to fit both of our needs. Some gentlemen prefer not to come to the Vixen Lounge. They’re a bit more...needy. But they treat my Knotty Girls quite well as long as they behave. Like I said, you would be one of my traveling entertainers.” Madame Tamsin strokes her palm over my cheek, scenting me.
The Knotty Girls? Traveling? I’ve never heard Madam Tamsin mention any of these things before. But why would she? I’ve always stayed out of her way and got my work done. I don’t ever speak to any of her entertainers either. Only the bouncers and the bartenders. The clients.
“What do you think? Can you handle being one of my Knotty Girls? You would have to audition for my special clients, but if you’re chosen, you’ll have the opportunity to see the true luxury of the state, stay in beautiful places, meet some of the wealthiest and most powerful alphas of the Pack Regime. You will stay for weeks at a time and then return to me until you’ve been requested again. I think it would be very fitting for someone like you. Because I know you must have many secrets. Maybe we can talk about them sometime. I’m sure your life is very interesting,” Madame Tamsin continues, filling the silence because she knows that I won’t say much more. She has won. She has already used her power to make me into someone who complies.
I lick my lips and bob my head slightly, responding to her without moving much. It’s been a while since I’ve acted like this. It hasn’t been this way since my uncle was my caretaker after my parents had died.
Fuck. He would’ve told me this was the life I deserved. It’s the life he had wanted for me, after all.
Madame Tamsin smiles wider, flashing her perfectly straight, white teeth. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen her smile in such a way. And the fact that I’m the reason why awakens something inside me.
I hate it. Despise it. I shouldn’t want to make her happy. I shouldn’t want to make her proud.
All I should desire is to grab the letter opener and shove it into her stomach.
“You will start tomorrow, my Knotty Girl. I’ll have Mr. Holt escort you to your apartment to pack your bags. You’ll be staying with me until tomorrow. We can get you situated and send my client everything he needs to decide. You better hope he picks you.” Madame Tamsin releases me and takes a step back, bringing her hands to her nose to sniff.
“Yes, Madame. Thank you for your kindness. I won’t let you down.” The words come automatically, and I just give in to the darkness clutching my soul. I need to focus on guarding myself. I need to prepare myself for the worst.
Because I know something awful will come. Unbonded omegas without a pack tend to be used and discarded.
I just hope I can survive. Unfortunately, a huge part of me hopes I don’t.
My fingers tremble as I jiggle the lock on my apartment door. Mr. Holt stands behind me in silence, and I can feel his sad, sympathetic gaze boring into my mahogany-brown hair. The moment I exited Madame Tamsin’s office, she escorted me to him and told him the plan, Mr. Holt’s whole demeanor changed. He went from seeing me as his equal and his coworker to putting me beneath him. But his bland, soap scent permeates the air with his pity. I’d usually ignore the smells, but now that my secret is out, I can’t. It’s like my mind won’t let me. The suppressant pills continue to run their course from my system. I have one left. I feel it in my pocket, and I clutch onto it like a lifeline. I’ll take it the moment I have a chance to escape. I might have agreed to Madame Tamsin’s terms and the opportunity she gave me, but it doesn’t mean I have to do it forever. I can escape again. I can take this last pill and find more. I can leave the city and get a job elsewhere. I’ll figure it out. I’ve done it before. I have to now. My future and freedom depend on it.
“Let me help you,” Mr. Holt says, reaching for the doorknob because I just can’t get it to work.
He wiggles the lock and swings open the door to my studio apartment, not even the size of Madame Tamsin’s office. My mattress rests on the floor with only a blanket and no sheets. Tears burn my eyes as I drink in the place I called home for the last two years. I can’t believe this is over.
“Hurry. Madame Tamsin said we have to be back in ten. Only take what you absolutely need. You will be provided with everything else. I suggest sticking to anything of importance. Sentimental.” Mr. Holt keeps his voice low and stands in the doorway without entering my place. He does it out of respect, because I didn’t give him permission to follow me in. I appreciate it. It was the one place that was mine, and no one has ever been in it.
“Thank you,” I say, trying my best not to lash out at him. He’s doing this because he was told.
Cutting my nails into my palms, I stroll across my closet-size apartment and grab a duffel bag from on top of my small dresser. I unzip it and snatch all of the clothes I own and shove them in. I know he’s probably muttering to himself over my choice of sentimental, but I picked these. I bought them with my first week of tips. They are sentimental to me.
I head to my nightstand and open the drawer, pulling out a small photo album that I managed to save all these years. I tuck it into my pocket instead of putting it in the bag, wanting to keep it close. I pick up a pearl necklace that belonged to my mother and a chain with my parents’ wedding bands. And that’s all I own. I’ve never wasted money on frivolous things. It only went to food, rent, and drugs. Pathetic, I know. But I don’t regret it. Material things mean nothing to me anymore, because I know how quickly they can vanish.
I know how quickly my life can change. If only I had been more prepared. I shouldn’t have been so surprised tonight. It’s not the first time. I just had hoped things would be different.
They never are.
I sling the duffel bag over my shoulder and clutch it for dear life, strutting to Mr. Holt. I don’t look back at my apartment. It’s better if I don’t dwell on it. It was just a roof over my head and somewhere to sleep at night. Nothing else.
At least, telling myself that helps ease the heartache burning my chest.
I swallow hard, keeping my chin up. It might be the last time I can do so without consequence. “I’m ready.”
Mr. Holt nods his head and closes the door locking it up. He tucks my key into his pocket, and I wonder what will become of this place. Will I ever get to return? I have no idea.
