“I’m not,” I continue to lie, keeping up the charade. “Tristan was obviously mad at you, and I can’t in good conscience let you on his computer.”
She laughs, and it’s dripping in condescension. “Oh, honey. You think you could stop me? I could have you on the floor in a second.”
I drop the professional mask I’ve been putting on, straighten to my full height, and hold her gaze. “I’d like to see you try,” I growl.
Ellen’s grin widens, almost feral. Goddammit. I fell right into her trap.
“What do you want?” I demand.
“Is Hazel even your real name?”
“Yes,” I grind out.
She hums, eyes the computer, then glances at my phone as it vibrates in my hand. “Aren’t you going to answer?”
“No.”
“Answer the phone or I’ll call the cops,” she snaps.
Glaring at her, I bring the phone to my ear. “Hello?”
“What happened?” Kill demands.
Before I can respond, Ellen tears the phone out of my hand. “Here’s what you’re going to do.”
She pauses to listen to whatever growled threat Kill is making. Chuckling, she glances at me with far too much curiosity. “Is that so? As I was saying, get Vivian and take her to my house.” Ellen rattles off an address.
“She’s not going to want to talk to you,” I tell her, reaching for my phone.
Ellen gives me her back, continuing her conversation. “I don’t fucking care. Tie her up if you have to.” She pauses andlaughs at whatever Kill growled at her. “You are in no position to deliver threats. Your little sweetheart is staying with me until you send proof that Vivian is at my house, otherwise your omega is going to jail.” Hanging up, she turns and tosses the phone at me.
I catch it, eyes narrowing as I round the desk and yank out the thumb drive. “She’s going to hate you.”
Ellen sighs. “I know.” Then her features harden, watching me lock the computer. “Get comfortable, Hazel. You’re not leaving until they’re done.”
“You can’t force her to love you.” My stomach churns, a dozen terrible scenarios playing in my mind, but I know the pack will do whatever it takes to protect me. Ellen is going to regret fucking with me.
“I’m not going to hurt her,” Ellen says, voice tight.
I shake my head. “You already did.”
“Hazel?”
“What?” I snap.
“Shut up.”
Ellen and I have spent the last hour glaring at one another in the conference room. Her crimson nails drum on the glass table, a steady and obviously irritated sound that grates along my skin.
My phone finally rings. Ellen’s fingers stop drumming and she rests her forearms on the table, holding my stare. “Answer it.”
“I was going to,” I snap, grabbing the phone. “Hello?”
“Hazel,” Kill says, exhaling in relief. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Is Vivian?”
“She’s pretty upset and not exactly fond of her kidnappers.”
