(TYLER)
I pull my blanket over my body as I curl myself up at the back of my tent. My worn blanket doesn't seem to be warm enough to shield me quite well from the cold, but it's all I got. My stomach growls and I tug out a piece of leftover pizza from yesterday. There are only two pieces left, but that will be enough for now.
Lately, I can barely keep anything down. It's worse when it's early in the morning, like now. The nausea is frustrating; however, it gets better throughout the day. The bedside however is that my back aches and the legs cramps never end.
I take a bite into the cold pizza as I mull over my meeting with Sasha. I'm still wondering why of all the omegas, I ended up on his radar. I'm a homeless, poverty-stricken addict and a nobody. Yet according to Sasha, that's what makes me suitable. That man must be crazy.
What I don't know however is whether I should take his threats seriously. One thing about the Triple Triads is they don't give empty threats. But how am I supposed to be married to the number one monster in this town? Everything about his life appalls me, and I'm triple sure I don't want to be part of it. I'll take my chances surviving in this shelter as I always have than end up sucked into his world because I know once I do, there s no coming back.
I just want to get rid of this baby. Once it's gone, I'll do my best to live a quiet life and stay out of trouble. I'll stop doing drugs even. I still crave them though, but I know they were the reason I even got mixed up with Jake in the first place. After everything I've been through, the last thing I want to do is to give a drug or another alpha a chance at controlling me like that.
I'll try to stay clean, and not be a victim of any of those two again. I know once I get rid of this baby, I'll be off to a fresh start, which is everything I want at the moment.
I swallow the chunk and when I'm finally satisfied that it will stay down, I head over to the makeshift bathroom. As soon as I take my clothes off, I realize it's too cold for me to take a shower, so I brush my teeth and wash my armpits then put my clothes back on.
I have to find a job. Even if it isn't to take care of my problem with Jake's baby, I have to support myself somehow. My odds of landing a job are very unlikely because it doesn't matter the clothes I put on, or how baggy they are. My rounded belly will still show. I don't have high hopes. But I also can't sit here and do nothing about it. I have to try.
See my life.
I yank a paper off a nearby bin and scan for places that have vacancies. After looking over and picking out a few of them, I leave the encampment and head out. My first stop is a nail salon. I'm only hoping they will consider me because that's a job I can easily do despite being pregnant.
My first stop is a small shop. I walk in and when the doorbell jingles, the manager walks up to me. She is a tall lean blonde omega. She gazes at me and as soon as her eyes fall on my belly, the smile fades. I haven't even told her anything yet, but I already have a bad feeling about what her reply is going to be.
"Hi, how can I help you?" she asks me softly.
"I'm here for the receptionist job?"
"I'm sorry, but you can't work here."
A knot twists at the pit of my stomach but I try to remain calm and composed. "But…I..."
"I understand, but we can't have a pregnant omega work here. Not with all the chemicals we use." She replies me curtly. Her tone is apologetic, but firm, which makes me note with certainty that she means everything she says.
"I know, but…" I hesitate. Part of me wants to tell her that I'm planning to terminate the pregnancy, but then again, won't that just make me look heartless? I don't want her to think of me like that. Certainly not when I want her to give me the job.
"Here we use some chemicals to remove nails, ones that you shouldn't be around, especially during your first trimester."
"See, I really need the job. What I breathe won't matter if I have nothing to put in my stomach." I tell her, hoping that it nudges some guilt at her and makes her change her mind.
"I'm sorry, but you can't work here. We can't take on the liability if by any chance you miscarry.
My fear is coming to life. I had suspected it earlier and now it's just going down like I expected. It kills me inside, but what other option do I have?"
"I can work as a receptionist. See if I'm here by the door, there should be enough ventilation to not pose a risk."
"We can't take chances at that. It's risky."
"But―"
"Sorry." She shoots me a concerning, almost pitiful gaze and shakes her head. "You shouldn't even be working now. Your alpha should be taking care of you at home."
Blood rushes to my face. Of course, the employees and the customers are watching us. I don't want to say out loud in front of them that I don't have an alpha. Even if I do, I doubt it will change the manager's stance, and will only embarrass me worse.
My shoulders drop defeatedly, and I sigh. "Alright, thanks anyway."
"You too, have a great day." She says as she waves me off.
Great day? I'm having a clusterfuck when it isn't even half the day yet.
I head up and stop at a rundown convenience store and they want a receptionist too. But as soon as I ask they let me know that someone has already taken up the position. The next place I head to is a diner, and there's already a long line of applicants waiting past the door down the sidewalk.
I spend generous hours of the day walking around and putting in my applications. By the time dusk falls and I'm back at the shelter, I'm too tired and my legs are wobbly. I curl myself into a ball at the back of my tent, feeling drained and hopeless like I've never felt my entire life. I wallow and loathe in my despair, and I cuss this pregnancy, hating myself for even knowing that asshole Jake.
I turn over and stare at the burner phone Miles gave me. All of my problems will be solved if I just pick up the damn cell and call Sasha. If I agree to his proposal, I'll say goodbye to this godforsaken life, I will have a roof over my head and food in my belly. I will be able to take regular showers and not sleep for fear of being stabbed or somebody stealing my stuff.
He was very clear when he threatened me earlier. I don't know how more hellish my life can be than this, and I sure know that Sasha is very capable of making it hell. I'm nothing to him. It won't matter if he kills me. He'll just go about his regular business and won't lose a wink of sleep over my death.
All of this could be solved by just a phone call, but at what cost?
I sit up and grab the cell.