The Ugly Omega

2.

“Jake, there is someone here to see you,” one of his fellow workers shouted at him from the door of the warehouse where he worked.

He removed his helmet and walked over to see what that was all about. “Who is it?” he shouted back over the din of work and metal being shaped into whatever tools people needed.

His mate shrugged. “Some old fart. In a suit.”

Jake didn’t know many old farts, let alone old farts in suits. He earned modestly and he didn’t ‘invest’ like some of his fellow workers, so it couldn’t be a visit from the bank or any such things. Also, who would bother to come see him, down at the steel mill?

There was only one way to find out. He removed his gloves, too, and held them in one hand, as he followed his mate.

His visitor sat in a chair in the foreman’s office. Jake wasn’t too bright – that he knew – but he noticed the hostile air in the room the moment he stepped inside. The foreman was examining the intruder with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Mr. Bones.” The visitor got up and offered him his hand. Jake couldn’t help staring at the ring on the man’s pinkie. He had seen enough of that symbol – a snake slowly strangling the spire of a building – to know who this mysterious man was. Or, better said, who he had to be working for.

He shook the man’s hand. It was a firm grip, honest, or so it seemed.

“Mr. Osem here says he has a job for you,” the foreman intervened. “Better than here.”

Jake straightened up. “I like it here.”

Mr. Osem wore a dark conservative suit, and his white beard was neatly trimmed. His eyes were pale, and his hair was like snow. Whatever he was thinking of the foreman’s intrusion couldn’t be read on his weathered face.

“Please hear our offer first, Mr. Bones.”

Jake owed it to the man, since, for some mysterious reason, he had come here with an offer in his hand.

“There are not many people like you,” Mr. Osem explained. “The Salazar family only hires the best.”

Jake examined the small print. The letters and figures were as small as ants, but they made sense. Or not at all. They were offering him quite a hefty salary to be the youngest Salazar’s bodyguard.

He racked his brain for any information that could help him make sense why he was holding such a contract in his hands.

“Apologies, sir,” he said, “but may I ask how you came to know about me?” It felt so absurd that a family like the Salazars would need to hire a goon from the steel mill to put in charge of one of their heirs. The youngest Salazar… how old was he?

“I cannot disclose the circumstances that informed us of your superior size and ability to use it in a fight, but I assure you that you came highly recommended.”

Ability to use… in a fight? What? His body? The only fight he’d been in—

“I will step outside for a moment,” Mr. Osem said, pulling out a ringing phone from his pocket. “Feel free to consult with your boss, if the legal lingo is too much for you. I will also be ready to answer any questions you might have. However, my time is limited, so I advise you not to take too long.”

The words were polite. The tone used was deferent, too. But Jake understood the undercurrent; whatever he did, he’d better tell these people ‘yes’.

“You need to take it, boy,” the foreman said, pulling him out of his stupor, as soon as the man in suit was out of the office. “These people can’t be told ‘no’.”

That was as much as he’d gathered. “I can’t understand why me,” he said.

The foreman shook his head. “I have no idea, either. But I bet someone working for them saw you and thought you were big and strong. Which you are. Don’t let them drag you into their dirty business. In times like this, it’s better to play dumb and leave your pride at home.”

Jake nodded slowly. That was a good way to act. If they believed that he was too stupid to follow their orders, they might just keep him as a grunt and nothing else. Once more, his big size was getting him in trouble.

And then, there was the matter of his condition. How was he going to hide it while working for the Salazars?

The foreman seemed to be reading his mind, noticing his worries. “They won’t keep you prisoner. You’ll be able to go out and see about your stuff, I suppose.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to disclose my… situation? They’d leave me be, then.”

His boss seemed to consider the possibility. “That’s one thing to try. Still, I don’t think it’s the wisest. Have you heard of omega wranglers, Jake?”

A cold shiver went down his spine. He’d heard of them. On his own, he didn’t think he had anything to worry about. They didn’t want ugly omegas like him, normally. But people talked, about how there were places in the country where children got born fewer and fewer. Stealing omegas and forcing them into reproductive cycles to repopulate those areas happened. The entire thing was controlled by omega wranglers, a tough organized group that gave the police in the whole country plenty of headaches. They weren’t always successful; when they were caught, they were sent to high-security prisons and forgotten there. But omegas did go missing once in a while, never to be recovered.

The Salazars were a powerful family. They had businesses all over the country and had their fingers in many different pies. While Jake didn’t have to worry that they might be interested in making money off him by selling him to the wranglers, other people in their organization might catch whiff of the existence of an omega who wasn’t claimed and had next to zero possibility to become a powerful alpha’s sweet wife. Even someone as ugly as him might do, under unfortunate circumstances.

Jake had lived a life of secrecy so far and had no intention to change that as long as he wanted to stay breathing. Or at least sound of mind; omegas weren’t made to be used by more than one alpha, as far as he knew. Too many split loyalties, and they were bound to lose their minds. 

“I know what you mean, boss,” he confirmed.

“The Salazars might not even hear about it,” the foreman continued. “But that man,” he pointed at the door, his voice low, “is just a suit for brains. He might want to line up his pockets by pointing the wrong people in your direction.”

“I know, boss. What’s going to happen to me if they do find out?”

The foreman had pity written all over his face. “Play dumb, Jake. As long as they don’t ask you directly, you don’t have to volunteer information. That’s one thing. Another is to say that you haven’t truly manifested and that’s just your secondary sex. They aren’t known to be merciful, but I don’t see how they’d be interested too much as long as you do your job the way they want you to do.”

“Bodyguard to the youngest Salazar. How old is he?”

“He just turned eighteen, I heard. A little devil, too,” the foreman said with a snort. “Still, he’s a squirt compared to his older brothers. That might make him so damn ambitious. I assume the family is looking for a strong man to hold their boy in line. So your job may be more about watching the kiddo so that he doesn’t wander off than about being careful about people wanting to hurt him. Though that’s not entirely out of the question.” He tsked in displeasure. “You’re my best worker, Jake. I hate losing you. Let me see that contract for a bit.”

Jake handed his boss the papers. The foreman put on his glasses and started perusing them. “Ah, it’s only for six months. Can you hang in there for that long?”

It was doable. His last heat had just passed – better than most thanks to the strange alpha he’d met that time at The Thirsty Dragon – and usually it would be many months before it struck him again, due to the pills he was taking.

“I’ll let the good doc know so he can give you extra just in case you can’t go to him anytime you need him.”

Six months. He’d serve the Salazar family and then returned to life as he knew it.

“Will I still have my job when I get back?” he asked.

“You can trust me on it, Jake. I’ll always have room for a hard worker like you. Remember. Keep your head low, and give them no reason to look at you too closely. The young Salazar is an alpha, just like his brothers, but he’s a kid compared to you. I’m not saying to smack some sense into him, but boy, I’d feel damn vindicated to know one of them fuckers got brought in line and all that.” The foreman stared at nothing, relishing in the imaginary punishment the young Salazar might receive from Jake.

That would be enough to send him reeling. Jake didn’t resort to violence, usually, and even that bar brawl, which he remembered fondly now, had been an out of the ordinary experience for him. A few times, he’d passed by The Thirsty Dragon but never entered, telling himself that he got the local patronage set against him because of siding with a stranger that one time.

But that wasn’t it. Jake would’ve entered, not only for the stout, but also for a chance to meet that stranger again. Still, he knew he’d be disappointed. Alphas didn’t randomly walk into bars where they’d been met with hostility before. So he preferred not to experience that disappointment.

The smell of expensive leather was still with him whenever he needed comfort. The memory of that kiss and the skilled handjob the alpha had delivered without any qualms was also with him. He jerked off to it regularly and any other stimulants had fallen out of favor.

To be with an alpha. Jake couldn’t help dreaming of it, no matter how well he knew it was impossible to nurture such dreams and hope they would become reality.

Mr. Osem stepped inside, placing his phone back into his pocket with pedantry. “Well, Mr. Bones?” he asked. “What do you think?”

Jake nodded. “I’ll come work for you, sir.”

A thin smile appeared on that weathered face. “Not for me. For the Salazar family. Like you, I’m but a mere servant.”

Jake nodded, not knowing what else he could add to that.

“Very well. You will start today. I hope you don’t have a lot to pack since I will be sending a car to your place in about an hour.” Mr. Osem consulted his wristwatch briefly.

“Why?” Jake asked.

Mr. Osem gestured at the papers, now spread out on the foreman’s desk. “It’s all written there. You will be guarding our young master twenty-four-seven. That means that you will live at the Salazar estate.”

Jake, indeed, wasn’t very bright. He hadn’t read that, and he hadn’t imagined he’d have to move, though it made perfect sense.

“I will be ready,” he promised, rising to his full height, and dwarfing the visitor.

Still, no one was fooled. The real power in the room belonged to the oldest, most frail individual present. And Jake knew that disobeying people with power was the shortest way to make things bad for oneself.

“Don’t forget to sign, Mr. Bones,” Mr. Osem reminded him. He was holding a pen, and Jake took it.

It wasn’t like there was much choice for him to make. He stifled a sigh and signed on the dotted line.

***