Chapter 663: The First Horsemen - 2

Noah knocked lightly on the office door.

"Come in," the manager answered from the inside.

He stepped in.

The office was barely big enough for the metal desk shoved against one wall. Papers were stacked everywhere and the manager

sat slumped forward, glasses low on his nose, rubbing at his temples.

"Hey, Noah. Close the door and sit." He motioned to the single folding chair.

Noah’s stomach dropped. People never get called into the office unless something bad has happened. Nonetheless, he closed the door, and sat down nervously.

The manager sighed like he was already exhausted by the conversation. He didn’t look at Noah at first, instead, he picked up a yellow folder, flipped it open, and then shut it again.

The anxiety Noah was feeling only spiked.

Finally, the manager spoke.

"I’m just going to say it."

Noah tensed.

"We’re cutting back," he said. "It’s a new month. Slow season. And headquarters wants labor costs reduced."

Okay. That sounded normal. Business stuff and all. He waited.

"So we’re reducing staff," the manager added.

Noah’s breath hitched in his throat.

"You’re reducing my hours?"

The man cleared his throat.

"We’re taking you off the schedule completely."

He had seen this coming. Had felt it the moment he was called into this office. He guessed all he needed was just confirmation.

Finally, he found his voice — even though it sounded embarrassingly small.

"N-no, you can’t f-fire me."

The manager leaned back, avoiding eye contact. "Look, kid. You’re a hard worker, but I can’t cut the full-timers. We’re operating on skeleton shifts until things pick up."

Noah was panicking inside. Right now, he was the breadwinner of the family hence he needed this job as much as he needed air.

"You don’t understand, sir. I-I need this job. My dad—"

The man’s expression tightened, and for a moment Noah thought he saw pity. Except

Pity hurt worse.

"I understand your situation, Noah, I’m sorry. But there’s nothing I can do. If anything, I believe this is time for your father to step up and do something."

Noah opened his mouth to say something, but no words could come out. His father step up? His mother had pleaded with him, but there had been no result until she got tired and dumped his lazy ass. Except the workload was dumped on him instead.

A wave of helplessness washed over Noah. What was he going to do? There was rent, food and electricity to take care of.

"So that’s it? I just don’t come back?" He asked, frustration creeping into his tone.

The manager slid a small envelope across the desk.

"That’s your final paycheck. You’ll get the rest by Friday. Turn in your apron before you leave."

Noah’s world seemed to fall apart as he stared at the envelope. He had been a hard worker, and yet in the end, he was disposable.

"Okay," Noah whispered, rising to his feet. There was nothing he could do. They can survive on the money for a week if he managed it well — and curbed his father’s drinking. Hopefully. He would then use the time to find another job, perhaps, skip school completely and work full time.

"No hard feelings?" Mr. Rudd asked, his voice too light for what he’d just done.

Noah nodded his head and left.

He hung his apron on the hook in the break area and was about to leave when he ran into Kelly. She looked him over, a frown forming on her face.

"What’s up? Why are you not—" She stopped, realization hitting. "He cut you off?"

Noah nodded with a forced smile.

Kelly’s expression darkened. "So he cuts you and Bob, but keeps Ken?"

Noah froze. "What?"

Ken was another part-timer at the diner. Except Ken was a werewolf hired only recently.

Anger shot through Noah’s veins. "You have got to be shitting me," he snapped, rushing back out to confirm.

And there he was: Ken, smiling and delivering plates to tables like he owned the place. Of course the customers loved him. Why wouldn’t they? He had the perfect physique, tall, handsome and confident. The jerk thought Noah didn’t notice, but he saw the ladies scribbling their numbers on napkins and Ken accepting them without shame multiple times.

That wasn’t work etiquette.

Yet no one seemed to care. Especially not the manager. Not when Ken kept the customers coming back for more. Who wouldn’t want to be served by a hot werewolf? Nearly every human had the hots for them.

And so the one who needed the money was laid off, while the one who probably treated this as a pastime got to stay. Fury like no other built inside Noah.

His father was right. Werewolves were nothing but vermin — reaping where they didn’t sow. They deserved to be chased back to wherever they’d crawled out from.

"Noah, are you okay?" Kelly asked when she saw how fast he was breathing. She reached out to touch him, but Noah spun around and began striding toward the manager’s office.

Oh no.

"Noah?" she called after him. He ignored her.

"Noah! Don’t!" Kelly warned, but the boy was beyond reasoning.

Noah kicked open the manager’s door, roaring, "You kept the werewolf and fired me?"

The manager, who was in the middle of a phone call, had no choice but to set the telephone down.

"What the hell do you think you’re doing?"

"Answer me!" Noah roared, veins bulging in his neck and face. "I came here before the werewolf! I worked the hardest, and yet you fire me and keep him?"

The manager spoke in a carefully measured tone. "Listen, Noah, I understand you’re emotional right now, which is why I’m giving you the chance to leave my office before I call the cops."

But the words only provoked him further.

"Call the cops on me?" Noah let out a humorless laugh. "Sure, go ahead. Call the fucking cops. Let’s see who the real crook is here."

Noah snapped.

He swept the papers off the manager’s desk in one aggressive swipe, causing the manager to stumble back, startled.

"You ignore your own kind and worship that monster out there!" Noah shouted, grabbing anything within reach and knocking it over.