The alarm blares so loud it reminds me of an air horn. I’m so tempted to smash my fist against it as soon as I wake up, or even better, toss it out the damn dodgy window that doesn’t even lock.
At least this morning, I could sleep in a little even though I can hardly call my sleep anything close to restful. My skin feels like it isn’t a part of me anymore, as if it’s crawling and the bed beneath me is alive.
Sitting up, I shudder with disgust as violently as ever. Yep, it’s definitely clear that I need to take another shower to get rid of the bedbugs. I’m sure that the dirty stairwell beside the Plaza would have been a cleaner choice to spend the night than the bug infested bed of the shitty motel room I had to pay money for. So much for thinking anything would be better than the streets. The streets would definitely be better than this.
After rummaging through the little number of toiletries I own, I hopped in the shower and scrubbed my skin so hard with my loofah that I’m surprised I didn’t scrub off a dozen layers of my skin. With the strength I have to use, I might as well just scrape all of my skin off. If only that helped eliminate the awful feeling those bed bugs left on me.
As I finally focus on scrubbing the shampoo in my hair, which I’m sure is now infested with the bed critters from the seedy bed I slept in, I hear my phone ring on the nightstand next to the bed of nightmares and despair.
I let it ring out, fully aware that I don’t have to be at work for an hour. Instead of running around the motel room like a lun*tic to pick up the phone, I close my eyes and rinse the shampoo from my hair. Then, I turn the taps off and step out of the shower.
My hand reaches out to retrieve a towel, but once I notice the state of it, I drop the idea and opt for my yesterday’s clothes and use them to dry myself.
The phone on the nightstand starts ringing again while I struggle to dry myself, and I figure out that using clothes isn’t the most effective way to reach my goal.
Cursing under my breath, I race out of the sh*tty bathroom and snatch my phone. Dread pools in my stomach, and my heart nearly stops when I see Thane’s name on the phone screen.
Hesitantly, I answer it, bringing the phone to my ear with a wildly shaking hand. “Which part of being a personal secretary did you fail to understand when you read the job description?” He growls through the phone, sending a cold shiver down my spine.
Thane is scary, and if he can scare me like this during a phone call, I fear what he could do if we were to stand face-to-face right now.
But as I focus back on his words, I have to resist the urge to roll my eyes because the b*stard might as well notice that. As for his question-I didn’t understand the personal part. I signed up for a damn foyer position, not to become an Alpha’s personal, perfect little coffee b!tch.
“My apologies, sir, I was taking a shower and didn’t hear the phone ringing,” I answer as politely as possible, while in reality. I wish I could kindly invite Thane to s*ck on my imaginary d**k, or even better, to f**king choke on it and die.
“F**king useless Omega! I need you to wait for the mailman out the front,” Thane snarls at me, sounding far more pissed off than he was a moment ago. There goes the give and get principle- I give him kindness, he gives me shit. F**king pr*ck!
“Around what time does he arrive?” I ask and slowly lower the phone from my ear to check the time. Well, that’s not all. I also do that to avoid the high risk of this Alpha as*h*le screaming so loud I go deaf.
“6:30 AM. The package I’m waiting for has to be signed. If I have to collect it from the post office- you’re fired!” Thane snaps and hangs up on me.
I stare at the phone screen in disbelief until the numbers finally make sense, and dread fills my gut. F**k! I have barely ten minutes until Thane’s stupid mail carrier arrives.
I guess it’s a good thing I chose this crappy motel because the office building is only a street away. I race around the room, grab my clothes, and dismiss the ironing board I set up before jumping in the shower. If Thane wants me in at such an ungodly hour, he must take what he gets.
I hurry to rip them on, clothes sticking to my w*t skin, and I barely manage one clasp on my br# before I snatch my descenter and suppressants,
Hurriedly, I tip the bottle of pills to my l!ps and down three tablets right before spraying the descenter over every inch of me. I toss the can in my bag, throw the bag over my shoulder, snatch the keys, and pick up my heels by the door.
I have no time to fiddle with the damn heels, so I rush out the door and quickly lock it behind me. It’s not like I have any valuables anyone could steal, but it’s better to be safe than sorry. I check the knob, ensure the door is locked correctly, and race for the stairs. Halfway down the steps, I jump the rest to be faster.
“Not today, you f**ker. You won’t be firing me!” I hiss under my breath as I run like someone had set my a*s on fire, and honestly, I’m pretty sure Thane would gladly do that if I’m late. Well, that and fire me, whichever that heartless as*h*le prefers.
I’m sure he would get the word “fired” branded on my a*s just to prove his stupid point. That’s how petty the scary motherf**ker appears.
By the time I finally reach the huge sky rise building and nearly vomit up my lungs, just if anyone was wondering- my hair is dry, and I’m sure it looks as messy as a bird’s nest.
The postal delivery officer stands next to his car, about to get in, and I push myself h*rder, almost tackling the poor elderly man before he can close the back of his van.
“Keller documents!” T’pant out, clutching my sides, wondering if he even understood the gibberish words I just blurted out. I must look like a madwoman in his eyes.
“Miss? Are you okay? Do you need help? Could I call someone for you? An ambulance, or maybe the police?” The kind man offers as I clutch his arm, still struggling to normalize my breathing back to somewhat decent.
“My boss, Mr. Keller, he’s expecting a package, and I’m here to sign it for him,” I gasp out, grabbing my sides with more force as I felt something like a sharp stitch in one of them. Body, don’t you f**king dare to fail me now!