Rogue Wolf

Ch 47 memories

"I don't understand," Max said as we sat down at the real table that had been set up in the store closest to the snack bar. "Why did you insist on cooking when we have our omegas?"

"Well for one thing, my lord, while the food that the omega cooks is ok, he ain't no chef. Sometimes I feel like any spices besides salt and pepper are taboo around here. It's not like we're vampires who are allergic to garlic!"

Michael swallowed down a snort at my little quip. When I had asked him what food he wanted for dinner, he had looked at me with this mischievous, evil glint in his eyes as he told me salad. Petty revenge on wolves who didn't serve up enough vegetables, but I couldn't blame him. I threw him a warning look before turning back to my Max.

"This is Mister G's personal lasagna recipe. Besides, we never have salad, and a good antipasti salad is worth it. Plus," I added, "I made appetizers my lord."

I'd deep fried an onion, cooked up some calamari, and did some crab cakes. There was fresh garlic bread and some small rolls with pepperoni tucked inside. And waiting in the wings was dessert. I had been tempted to try making tiramisu like old Missus G had once shown me, but I'd turned away from the thought of it. Instead, there was a pile of cannolis that came out perfectly.

I'd planned ahead, making a pan of lasagna to be sent to Alpha, a pan for the hidden girls, and just in case, a pan made from broken lasagna noodles so the omegas could get a decent real meal.

"And for another thing, humans have different ethnic groups, and each has their own types of food. We did Chinese last time. This time is Italian. It's good to be familiar with different foods. Maybe next time we'll do Mexican."

"Tacos," said Michael with a smile.

"Why does everyone think tacos are the only Mexican food out there?" I complained, then laughed. "Yeah, taco Tuesdays, right?"

Michael only nodded, suddenly nervous.

Maximus waited until I looked at him and bowed my head, then he did his minute wait before speaking.

"Who is Mister G?"

I had to smile. I had only good memories of Mister G's family. Strange how I hadn't thought of old Missus G in a long time.

"If you want to start with the salad my lord," I said, "I'll be happy to tell the story."

Max gave me a look, breathing in deep to scent the meal before taking a small scoop from the salad bowl. He handed the bowl to one of the teen omegas, who carried the bowl around the table. I was surprised how eagerly some of the guards piled the salad on their plate. Apparently some of them were as desperate for some greens as Michael was.

I stabbed a piece of romaine lettuce, motioning with my fork to Maximus. I tried hard not to be amused as he used his fork to get the smallest piece of lettuce he could find, sniffing it before putting it in his mouth. My smile got bigger as he tried to look regal while deciding if it was acceptable or not. Once he had taken a bite, everyone dug in, some with more gusto than others.

"Got more of these?" asked Lone Wolf, holding up a Kalamata olive. I told the omega nearest me where to get what was left of the jar. "I'm looking forward to your story," Lone Wolf said while waiting for the omega to return. His eyes held an intense look even as he tried for being nonchalant.

I knew the big man wanted more information about me, especially since he couldn't even get a name from me. I didn't understand why I was so determined to keep my previous life hidden from him, when I trusted him more than anyone. I shrugged, knowing that at some point I was going to have to reveal more about myself.

I put some calamari on Max's plate before piling some on mine. Old memories were surfacing, ones I hadn't thought about in a very long time.

"It all started when I was about nine or ten," I said, dipping a piece of calamari into the marinara sauce. "The guy who had set my mom up started giving her more drugs. I'd mentioned before how she'd be so doped up sometimes she'd forget about me. Well, Mister G owns one of the better Italian restaurants in town. It has an outdoor patio. I would wait until people were almost done eating and suggest to them they put what was left in a to-go box, that I could see to it that their leftovers didn't just get thrown out. There was one night in particular..."

I paused, overwhelmed as buried memories came rushing back. Something took root in me that long ago night, something that never left me. I had been scared, begging because I was so hungry. The few nights before that I had begun looking at dumpsters as a possibility for dinner. The thought of dinner from dumpsters was enough to give me the courage to try begging.

"Sing for your supper, you little beggar," a man in a suit had laughed at me drunkenly, holding up a big piece of steak on his fork, "and I'll leave you half my steak."

My mouth had watered at the possibility of a richer dinner than I'd had in awhile. I had stood tall, throwing back my shoulders, looking him straight in the eye. I kept my dignity, not totally losing my pride. That is what had taken root in me that night. I would do what I must to survive, but I would keep my dignity doing it. I took a breath and began to sing. I sang the song that I'd heard again and again over the restaurant's speakers the last few nights. My young voice grabbed the attention of many of the patrons, as well as the owner. It was the suit's friend who laughingly told the owner why I was singing. The owner was angry at the man in the suit, telling him to leave and not come back.

That had been the beginning. The owner, who was Mr. G of course, told me to wait out back, that he would bring me food. I had hidden until everyone had left just in case he was going to call the authorities on me. He hadn't. We had made a deal that night after the restaurant had closed, one that benefited me immensely. It wasn't the deal I had forgotten, it was... I shook my head. This wasn't the time. Mr. G had originally looked at me with such pity, much like Lone Wolf's human alpha friend had. I had lifted my chin, refusing his pity. He understood and offered me his friendship instead. His friendship I had accepted.

The good times, the very good times, when I had felt like I had a family came rushing back into my memory. I had to put my hand on the table to steady myself. Where before it was like I had remembered mere facts outlining that time, now I remembered the details. The memories became more personal. The emotions I had locked away flooded over me. I had laughed, back then, sharing evenings with him and his family. I had learned to cook in his restaurant's kitchen. I had been held by his mother's old arms, finding comfort in the smell of her musty perfume. I had been loved by strangers who came to mean more to me than my own mother. More importantly, I had loved them back. How had I forgotten so much?

The one thing that took root in me that night was the sure knowledge that no matter how low I sunk, I could keep my dignity. And I had. Nothing done to me after that night had ever affected my dignity, not my mom's pimp, not Alpha. I could fake it, pretend, give them what they wanted. I always kept who I truly was locked away from those who would harm me, try to break me...

Until my emotions for my Max had unlocked that hidden door within me.