Pember couldn’t hide the smile as he worked a dish sponge around the inside of Duncan’s filthy mug. “But today’s Monday,” he said.
Maya turned her attention to the fridge. “Motherfucker,” she hissed, pulling out an empty lunchbox.
“You said they go out every Friday. Today’s Monday,” he repeated.
Maya sighed and dropped the lunchbox into the sink. Water splashed up, wetting Pember’s shirt.
“They live together,” she said, ignoring the mess. “Every day’s a party in Johnny and Tay’s world. Between the two of them they’ve shagged most of the omegas in the station.”
Pember frowned. “You don’t sound like you like it here.”
Maya threw her hands up. “Don’t get me wrong, I actually love it here. Johnny and Tay are fine in small doses. Samantha’s a nosy bitch but she knows her stuff. Wallace is amazing and so sweet, and Duncan is… well, Duncan. An idiot, but harmless.”
Pember nodded, drying his hands on a dishcloth and glancing at Duncan through the glass-panelled door. He’d resumed his position over the microscope, a pair of precision tweezers between his fingers.
“Sorry about that, by the way.” Maya’s voice was softer as she moved to stand next to him. “We didn’t fully know about your involvement with the trafficking case last year. We knew you were friends with DS White, but that was about it.”
Pember raised his hands. “I wasn’t involved, exactly. Just ended up in the path of one of their ring leaders. A-and how do you know I’m friends with Oliver?”
Maya snorted. “Because he marched into the lab—with no PPE—and lectured us about treating you properly. Even Wallace. It’s a bloody good job we were only doing a stock take that morning.”
Pember flushed.Kind bastard.“Sorry about that. He can be a bit… protective.”
Maya shrugged. “S’all good, he seems like a decent guy and his kids are adorable. How’re you doing after all that, by the way?” Her eyes dropped and she looked at him from under her black lashes. “It must be difficult working here, knowing you’ll be processing other victims’ swabs?”
It was difficult, Pember would never deny that. But it was important work and he needed the money, which was what had ultimately convinced him to give up his poorly paid apprenticeship at the multinational pharmaceutical company.
“It’s fine. I’ve been really looking forward to it.”
Maya nodded, gesturing towards the door. “You squeamish? Ever seen a dead body?”
Following her out of the kitchen, he shook his head. “Not squeamish. I’ve seen plenty of cadavers during classes. The only thing that makes me queasy is when they use the hammer and chisel to pop off the skull cap. Something about the sucking sound really sets my teeth on edge.”
Maya nodded. “Mine’s the rib crackers… Put me off roast chicken for a year after my first post-mortem. My undergrad’s in medicine, by the way. You?”
“Biochem and mathematics.”
Maya gave an approving nod. “Love to see it.”
They chatted back and forth as they pulled on their lab coats. Despite his earlier nerves and the unwelcome revelations, Pember found himself settling into the environment with relative ease. The day passed quickly, and before he knew it he was back at home, stretched out on the sofa with Bailey snoozing between his legs.
He could do this. Hecoulddo this.
Working with Maya was a breath of fresh air; she was passionate, efficient, and most importantly, she didn’t look at him like he was the competition.
Omegas could be funny creatures, swinging wildly from caring, nurturing figures to catty and vindictive. They could also be expressive and overflowing with creativity. His own mum was a professional ballet dancer in her youth, before she settled down with his beta father. Pember used to love looking at old photographs of her on the stage, dressed to the nines in tulle and brightly coloured silks. He and his sister adored the times when she dressed them both up and let them parade around the living room like ballerinas of old. He’d worn his hair long then. Almost down to his waist.
But then his father had passed away, and things began to change. The woman she’d been became a ghost behind her own eyes, a dark shadow slowly eclipsing everything good. That’d been when the verbal abuse started. The name calling, the careless but hurtful degradation.
She’d cut his hair—taken hold of his braid and hacked at it with scissors over breakfast.
At eleven years old, he’d had no idea why his mum was calling him a whore, a slut, a slag. He hadn’t even had his first estrus cycle, let alone shown any interest in sex. His sister had gotten the worst of it. She was fifteen, and just on the cusp of sexual maturity. She’d tried to shield him from it, but he still heard them screaming at one another late into the night. He used to press his ear to the floorboards, listening—and dreading—the moment one of them went too far.
The snap of fingers in front of his face jolted him out of his thoughts. “Earth to Pem,” Maya said, holding the fluorescent torch over the clothing sample. “You ready to start?”
He blinked, wholly unaware he’d zoned out.
A few days had passed without so much as a word from his mother, and it was beginning to set his nerves on edge. He’d barely seen Blake either, only heard his car when it pulled up late at night and left again early the following morning. The old woman and the bird were loud every evening, but Pember found he didn’t mind all that much because it helped fill the silence in his own home.
