I didn't see Marcus all through the next week, but that wasn't unusual. He generally only came in for Omega Night. But then he didn't come the next Omega Night. Or the next. I wondered if he was avoiding Decker. He was being smart, if that was so, and part of me was glad. But the other part of me was going insane that I hadn't had the chance to talk to him again since learning his name. I hung up my jacket in the employee room. Its dark leather looked drab next to the bright colors the entertainers tended to wear. The purple sequined jacket thing next to mine was particularly eye catching. I didn't see how it could help much with the evening chill, though.

I pulled on my Red Knight arm band and clocked in. I tended to arrive a few minutes before the other guys. We didn't have to do much before opening, but I liked to run a check before things really got started. I'd run through the camera feed, make sure none of them had been adjusted recently, then make sure all the VIP velvet rope barriers were in place. The last thing I checked was that all the emergency exits were clear. I wasn't the one who would have to deal with the fine if the Fire Marshall ran a surprise inspection, but that wasn't what I cared about. If there was an emergency, I wasn't going to have any injuries and deaths from my neglect on my conscience. Especially with the shootings that were happening all over the country. Chances were low that we'd ever be a target, sure, but I was never offended when someone accused me of being paranoid. I was, a little, but better safe than sorry.

"Hey, Killer. What's happening?" Joe sauntered up. His gold chain necklaces were even more noticeable in the bright lights of the unopened club. Dumbass was going to lose them someday when some asshole grabbed at them, or he was going to get his head knocked around a little bit if they used them to swing him around. But I'd given up giving him shit about them. It just encouraged him to wear more of them.

"Same old, same old," I replied. My weekly routine was pretty much the same, week to week. I worked out when I got up around ten in the morning, ate breakfast, ran errands or watched TV, and then went to work. Mondays were an exception, as they were the end of my "weekend" and when I visited my family for the day. It was just me, my mom and my brother Coop, and we were tight.

"You think your sweetheart will show up tonight?"

I bit back the reply that was on the tip of my tongue and grunted noncommittally. All of the guys teased me about Marcus, but Joe especially. And you would think that it would die down with Marcus not showing up for a couple weeks. If anything, it had intensified it. If Joe knew that I had only just found out the guy's name? He'd be relentless. 

"It's been, what? A month since he's been in?"

Joe knew exactly how long it had been. Though it felt like it could have been a month, or longer. I continued my checks, trying to ignore him as he followed me around the room.

"I'd worry that the guy was sick, except he seemed pretty healthy when I saw him at work today."

It took a moment for Joe's words to catch up with my conscious brain; I was so focused on ignoring him. When I spun around, he was leaning against a wall with an over-casual air, studying his fingernails. He knew exactly what he was doing and how riled up he was making me. He knew where Marcus worked? Where? It took a herculean effort to keep the questions to myself. I wasn't going to give Joe the satisfaction. I turned back to my work.

"That's it? I get nothing?"

I could feel his evil smile behind me.

"Well, I couldn't tell if he was working the afternoon or the evening shift, so if he doesn't come, maybe it's just because he's still at work."

He was baiting me. He knew I desperately wanted to know more about Marcus. And I did, I did so much. But I also didn't want to give Joe the satisfaction of knowing he had me over a barrel. After a moment, he strode off, whistling, and I checked the time on my phone. Just ten minutes to open. I was still holding out hope Marcus would come tonight. If he did, I'd ask him directly where he worked, and ruin Joe's whole superiority schtick. But if he was a no-show again...

Joe would never let me live it down, but I had to know more about the omega.

Marcus didn't show, but neither did Decker, which was a relief. The guy had been up my ass ever since I'd interrupted him with Marcus. He never accused me of lying to him about Jasper needing him, so I had no idea what had happened there, but whatever it was, he was taking it personally, and he blamed me. The last Omega Night, he'd complained that I was letting people get too close to his booth. He’d pretty much forced me to personally guarantee anyone not in his booth gave it a three-foot clearance, which meant that all night, I was watching drugged up omegas rubbing themselves all over him, making sure they didn't fall flat on their faces when they stumbled out of the booth to try to dance or go to the bathroom. All that was fine, but it was knowing Decker was watching my every move, controlling me, wanting to get under my skin, that made the night interminably long. But as long as it wasn't Marcus rubbing himself all over Decker, I really didn't give a fuck.

We picked up the last wasted partier from a bench and shoved them in a taxi around four in the morning and left the serving staff to finish up their closing routine. As I shrugged on my jacket, I steeled myself to ask Joe about Marcus, but he surprised me. As he passed me, he patted my back and pushed a business card in front of me. 

"You probably want this," he said. At my confusion, his face crinkled up in that evil grin again, and he was out the door with a half-salute.

I flipped the card around so I could read it. Café Om. An address downtown. I was familiar with the chain, but rarely went downtown. I knew what my plans were for tomorrow, though.

* * *

I knew my chances were fairly slim that Marcus would be working any random time that I decided to go in. I doubted he was an early morning bird—that didn't seem his style—so I planned on hitting it up just after lunch, but my mom called, needing me to run some errands for her, so it was just a little later before I found my way to the cafe. As I expected, no Marcus to be found. The bright-eyed beta barista who was working was friendly, and I felt like I'd be an asshole if I just walked in and then walked back out without ordering anything, so I ordered a large of whatever their house coffee was and found a corner to sit in. I'd finish my coffee, and then I'd head out.

I tried to push my disappointment away. There were six other days in the week and probably three shifts every day. I could try again. If I wanted to be a creeper, I could ask the girl when Marcus was working next, but that seemed like a stalker-level move, and I wasn't quite there. 

I pulled a book up on my phone and let my mind drift away. I was a sucker for historical biographies and memoirs, especially anything to do with World War II. I was currently reading the story of a Polish spy, and I quickly forgot my disappointment and even where I was as I read. The caffeine hit my system, though, and I finally broke from the book with an intense need to use the facilities. After I washed my hands, I checked my phone, surprised to see it was already three. I'd spent nearly an hour sitting at the table, reading. Nothing left to do now except run home and lounge for a couple hours before work. Maybe scrounge up something to eat.

I picked up my cup to toss it in the trash on my way out and took a double-take at the man talking to the beta woman behind the counter. I would have sworn it was Marcus, but the man exuded alpha. 

"Did Zeke leave?" the man asked. His tone was brusque. At the barista's confusion, he asked instead, "Is Marcus still here?" There was a more than a hint of frustration in his voice now.

I froze in the act of opening the door, looking behind to see the alpha stride confidently past the woman to the back of the cafe. What the heck was going on?

The girl seemed torn in confusion, her eyes darting between the nearly empty cafe and the alpha who'd just barged past her. Whoever he was, he clearly wasn't supposed to be back there. She looked helplessly at me. I knew that look. It was the look that said, "You're an alpha, can't you fix this?"

"Is there a manager on site?" I asked.

She nodded, her eyes wide and scared. 

"Why don't you call him?"

That seemed to unlock her confusion, and she spun into action while I turned back in to the cafe and took a seat at one of the front tables, waiting to see what was going on. If Marcus was here, I wanted to see him. If he needed help, there was no way I was leaving.