Omega's Last Chance: Poppy Field Mpreg Series, #8

By Beau Brown

Omega Rudy Charles uses booze to numb the pain of his past. He knows if he keeps going the way he has been; he'll end up dead in a ditch somewhere. He wants to quit drinking, but doesn't seem able to do it on his own. Feeling desperate, he reaches out to an old flame, who by all rights shouldn't want to talk to him.

Alpha Harry Pearlson fell for Rudy when they met a year ago. They spent two great weeks together, and he thought they had something special. But when Rudy ghosted him, and went off with some other alpha, Harry was hurt, but mature enough to simply move on.

When Rudy calls Harry late one night in desperate straits, Harry just happens to be in Poppy Field. He shows up on Rudy's porch, unable to ignore the despair in his ex-lover's voice. Harry takes Rudy under his wing and helps him get sober.

Rudy opens up to Harry, sharing his painful secrets. Things go so well; it looks like this time around the two men will be able to make love work. But then fate takes a shocking turn, and Harry has to decide if being with Rudy is worth it after all.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Beau Brown
• Release date: Jul 11, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201852580

Book preview

Chapter One

Rudy

I stared at the bottle of golden tequila on my kitchen table until my eyes watered. I’d been staring at it for an hour now, willing myself to pour it down the drain. It wasn’t even good tequila, but it would do the trick if escape was what you wanted.

Just one sip. Just one.

The problem was I knew what one sip would lead to. I’d wake up in worse shape than I was now, and that was saying something. I already had the shakes from not giving into my need for three days. I was sweating like a pig, and angry. I wanted to punch something. I wanted to scream and hit something. I wanted a fucking drink more than anything in this world. Booze was my escape. My crutch.

I groaned and covered my face, but the feel of that smooth glass bottle against my palm, and the tangy taste of the tequila on my tongue, still burned in my memory. Booze gave me the numbness I craved, but it also made everything fall apart around me. Mason warned me last time I showed up drunk at his house with some guy I’d picked up, that he wasn’t going to put up with my behavior around his new baby. Of course not. Nor should he.

Mason was my best friend, and if he quit on me, I was really and truly fucked. He said he loved me, but no way was he going to put up with me, and my bullshit forever. He was the only one I could really trust and count on, but if I started drinking again, he’d give up on me like everyone else already had.

I was tempted to call him and tell him I needed help, but he had other things to think about now instead of what a fuck-up I was. He had Bain, a successful singing career, and his daughter Charlotte. He didn’t need pathetic phone calls from me at two in the morning.

I grabbed the bottle and started unscrewing the cap.

No. No. No.

I stood and stumbled away from the table, letting go of the bottle, feeling panicked. How did people do this? How did they stop drinking when it was the only way they could ever stop the pain? Despair shot through me as I went into the living room. The place was a wreck with newspapers, and fast food containers.

I fell to my knees and hugged myself, rocking back and forth. Was there anyone I could call? Anyone I hadn’t burned all my bridges with? Certainly not that guy I’d dragged to Mason’s house. We’d gotten drunk together, fucked a few times, and I hadn’t heard from him since. I didn’t have his phone number, and couldn’t even remember his name. He’d just been a guy at the bar who was as horny as me that night. Shit, I’d been so drunk, we’d fucked in his truck. I don’t think I’d even made him wear a rubber. That was stupid, and irresponsible. I had to stop drinking. I couldn’t go on like this, or I’d probably get murdered one day.

Did I even know any nice guys anymore? It had been a while since I’d been with anyone kind. That musician friend of Mason’s had been really cool. Harry? Yeah, Harry. He’d been cool. I still remembered his warm gray eyes, and his gentle smile. What was his last name? He’d been so thoughtful. So understanding. We’d slept together for a few weeks when Mason was first involved with Bain. I’d been sober those two weeks. God, that felt like twelve years ago, and it was only twelve months ago. I winced when I remembered how I’d ghosted Harry toward the end. He’d wanted me to go on the road with him and one of Bain’s artists, Giaus something. He’d wanted to help me and get me out of Poppy Field, so I could heal from my past. He didn't even know my past, he just knew I was a mess and it had something to do with my mom.

Pearlson. Harry Pearlson.

That was it. Harry Pearlson. I pulled my cell from my back pocket and found his number in my contacts. What would he say or do if I called him right now? Would he reject me? Laugh? I had no idea. I’d been a jerk to him. By all rights he should hang up on me, and block my number. I couldn’t imagine Harry doing that. He’d been too compassionate. But I’d hurt him. I remembered that much. The wounded look he’d had when I’d bailed on him the last time we’d met up, and gone off with some other guy, still hung in my memory. The thing is, I couldn’t remember the other guy’s name, but I sure remembered Harry.

Maybe if I could just talk to someone and get my mind off of the booze. My fingers trembled when I dialed his number. One ring. Two rings. Three—

Hello? Harry’s husky voice came over the line.

I opened my mouth to speak but no words came out.

There was a tense silence and then he said, Rudy?

I squeezed my eyes closed, feeling humiliated now that he’d answered. I hung up abruptly, and threw my phone on the dirty carpet. When my phone started ringing, I jumped, and stared at it like it was a rattlesnake. It had to be him. No one else ever called me but Mason, and he sure as hell wasn’t checking up at me at two in the morning.

I didn’t answer it, I just continued to stare at my vibrating phone. The last thing Harry needed was me coming back into his life. He deserved a lot better than me. I was sure we both knew that, and yet the phone kept ringing. Maybe he wanted me to pick up, so he could tell me off. I wouldn’t blame him one bit.

The phone fell silent and I slumped, blowing out a shaky breath. I crawled to my feet and stumbled into the bathroom where I splashed cool water on my face. I glanced up in the mirror studying my wet face. I had dark circles under my eyes and my auburn hair was sticking up like I was in a punk band. My cheekbones were very pronounced, probably because I hadn’t really eaten in days. The blue of my eyes seemed to burn out at me from the mirror.

Rudy. Where are you? Rudy, I need you.

I froze when I thought I heard my mother’s voice in the other room. No. She was gone. Dead. I’d killed her, or as good as. I forced myself to go back into the living room. I had to prove to myself that I was wrong. She wasn’t calling for me. She was gone. Gone.

The living room was deserted. Of course it was. I’d known it would be. There was no do over waiting for me. There was no redemption possible for me. She was gone and I was responsible. I’d had one job, and I’d blown it because I was a selfish, fucking loser. I’d put my own needs above those of my ailing mother and now she was dead.

My stomach ached, and I licked my lips glancing toward the kitchen. I saw the bottle of tequila on the table. Oblivion waited for me in that amber liquid. Was being sober worth this much pain? I wasn’t sure. I knew if I kept on like I’d been going, I’d end up with liver failure just like my mom. Did it matter? Might as well be dead as the way I was. But if that was how I felt, there were quicker ways. Much quicker.

I swallowed hard. Was I ready to do that? Was I ready to find out what awaited me on the other side of this shitty life? I wasn’t sure. Sometimes I thought maybe I was. Maybe tonight was the night I ended it all. No great loss to the world. Mason would be the only one who cared, and a part of me felt he’d secretly feel relieved I was no longer a burden.

I jumped when there was a hard rap on the front door. I widened my eyes, backing up until the back of my legs hit the couch. Who the hell was knocking on my door this time of night? Cops? I wasn’t playing music or making noise. If it was a drug bust, I doubted they’d knock first. Not to mention the most I had was a few joints somewhere in the house. I wasn’t a dealer. Booze was my vice.

The door vibrated as whoever it was banged on the door again. Rudy? A gruff voice called out.

I widened my eyes in disbelief as I recognized Harry’s voice.

What the hell? What’s he doing here?

Answer the damn door, or I’m calling the police, he growled through the door.

That jolted me out of my stupor and I moved to the door. When I opened it, Harry’s face seemed to soften with relief. His eyes were still a steely dark gray, and his mouth a grim line, but his features relaxed a bit.

What are you doing here? I asked hoarsely, embarrassingly aware I hadn’t showered in two weeks, and that he could see past me into the pig sty of a house I lived in. I didn’t know you were in Poppy Field right now.

Yeah, you wouldn’t know that because you never bother reading my texts. His cheeks were flushed, and his eyes glittered. You called me earlier. Right?

I gritted my teeth, my cheeks hot. I dialed by mistake. God, I wasn’t prepared for how good it was to see him. He looked like a breath of fresh air; tall, lean, sexy. My stomach flip-flopped with memories of how good he was in bed too. It’s weird to see you.

I’ll bet.

How did you get here so fast?

He shrugged. My hotel is only about five minutes from here.

Oh. I frowned. Why are you here in Poppy Field?

I’m here to work on Mason’s album.

I see.

He narrowed his eyes. Are you drunk?

No.

About the only time you ever called me was when you were drunk and horny.

I couldn’t argue with him because that was true. The only time I’d had the courage to call a guy as cool as Harry was when I was wasted.

He shifted uneasily, glancing around at the dark porch. Do you think I could come inside?

I winced. I don’t know…

It’s cold out here.

You should probably just go. I’m… I’m fine.

You don’t look fine.

Harry, I’m not your responsibility. It was so surreal to see him standing on my porch like this. I’d thought I’d never see him again, and he’d just shown up like the cavalry. If I let him in, I’d probably just end up hurting him again.

You must have dialed me for some reason.

I shook my head.

Let me in, Rudy. His voice was a deep rumble.

Even though I was conflicted about letting him in, my inner omega responded to the command in his tone. I moved to unhook the screen door and stepped aside. He brushed past me and when he stopped in the center of my living room, he seemed to shudder. Jesus, did something die in here?

My face was hot. I didn’t invite you over.

No. You wouldn’t, would you? He ran his gaze over me. What’s going on, Rudy?

I avoided his gaze. Nothing.

Are you having… a bad day? His voice was empathetic.

Yeah. Three hundred and sixty-five of them.

Please just go.

He moved closer and I took a step back. He hesitated. Why don’t you come with me? I’ll buy you a meal and you can shower at my hotel.

I shook my head. God, no.

Why not?

How come you always want to save me, Harry?

A muscle worked in his jaw. Frankly, I’m not sure.

I almost laughed at how confused he sounded. You must have a hero complex.

Come with me.

Why?

He glanced around my disgusting house. I want to get you out of this toxic environment.

That’s not necessary.

I know. But you look like you could use a good meal, and I can’t just leave you here and not lose sleep. He gave a tense smile. Take pity on me.

I gave a wary glance through to the kitchen where the tequila still beckoned to me. Maybe it was a good idea to get the hell out of this house. If I stayed I’d probably drink that damn tequila. I was definitely struggling tonight. I didn’t think I had it in me to resist, and that thought scared me. Maybe I only had three days sober under my belt, but starting over again… I wasn’t sure I had it in me.

Come on, he nudged. Let’s get out of here.

Okay, I said quietly.

He looked shocked that I’d agreed, but he quickly hid his surprise. Great. Let’s go.

I grabbed my hoodie off a hook near the door as we slipped out the front. I locked the front door and followed him to his car parked near the sidewalk. My hands shook as I slid into his car, and memories of being in his vehicle came back to me. I’d had fun with Harry. I’d felt almost normal those two weeks we’d spent together. But then my guilt about my mom had gotten the best of me again, and I’d spiraled out of control.

But I didn’t want to think about my mom. Not now. Harry was back. For some reason Harry always wanted to rescue me, and tonight I wasn’t going to fight it.

Chapter Two

Harry

When Rudy had agreed to go with me, I’d been shocked. I’d led the way to my car, half afraid Rudy would change his mind and run back in his house. But he hadn’t, and now we sat in the only restaurant open at this hour in Poppy Field, The Broken Lantern.

We sat in a booth at the back of the restaurant, as he scooped soup to his mouth with an obviously trembling hand. It hurt seeing Rudy again. But when he’d called, I’d had to respond. Over the past year I’d thought about him a lot, regretting he’d been too broken to help. I couldn’t deny a part of me hoped maybe this time I could bring him toward the light. I guess we’d see. He certainly wasn’t in a good place, but I liked to think positive. If I could help him, I would.

He glanced up and set his spoon down.

Reviews for Omega's Last Chance

[L'eau · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

It was sweet, but some more research on fetal development could help. You're not going to see much structure with an ultrasound on a 9-week fetus. I've also been confused about the allusion to wolves in reference to the alpha omega system in this series, it seems to have no role in the stories at all except a light connection to. all the alpha and omega talk.