“I’m not taking you back to Anthony,” he vows, and I notice the extreme difference in his cadence. Logan isIrish. It’s clear as day with the time I’ve spent with Declan.
I stare at him wide-eyed, my flight-or-fight response kicking in as I rear up my knee and hit him hard in the balls. My knee connects with his flesh. My leg hurts, but I don’t waste a second in getting away.
Logan hunches over, grabbing his privates as I make a run for it. My heels click against the sidewalk as I attempt not to break an ankle. My breaths are uneven, and my cheeks feel hot as I round a corner.
Biggest mistake.
Large arms wrap around me, and a sting hits my neck.
“Forgive me, blondie,” the voice murmurs. I immediately recognize it as Declan, and the betrayal I feel is bone deep. Tears stain my cheeks, and I wonder what they’re going to do to me.
I don’t know what situation I just found myself in, but it might be a far worse fate than my brother had ever wished for me.
My vision goes hazy, and I try to fight the Beta who’s holding me up.
“I knew you were a fighter, Elena. That’s good. It’ll be okay, I promise.”
My heart sinks, and tears flow from my eyes. This is everything I ran from, everything I didn’t want. I just wanted to be free. I wanted to be loved.
Now, who knows what they’re going to do with me? Has Logan been planning to kidnap me this whole time? Did Cillian set this whole thing up, or is Declan going against his wishes? What if Cillian got close to me this whole time just for me to let my guard down? My thoughts are so jumbled, and I can barely lift my hand to smack Declan when a pissed off Logan approaches us.
“That wasn’t very nice, princess,” he scolds before tossing me over his shoulder, and whatever Declan injected me with finally makes me pass the fuck out.
I’m not sure where I expected to wake up. Perhaps a moldy, slimy dungeon or inside of a shipping container. But everything surrounding me is complete opulence.
The bed underneath me is soft and covered in Egyptian cotton. There are no windows in the room, but all the lighting is a soft, warm white, which comes from a few lamps and one golden chandelier hanging from the ceiling.
The furniture is modern, the bedframe a sleek black, that’s barely raised off the floor. Along with the dresser and desk on the side wall, there’s a black chaise in the corner with a soft navy blue blanket draped over it.
I tentatively run my hand over the spot where I was injected with… something, and I’m happy that there seems to be no pain.
How long was I out? And where the fuck am I?
I stand up, stumbling for a moment before I find my balance. When I look down, I realize I’m still in the clothes that I went tothe pharmacy in, sans my high heels. Those have been removed and are nowhere to be seen in the room.
There are french doors on the other side of the room, which I assume leads to the rest of the house. When I go to turn the handle, it, of course, doesn’t budge.
Feeling pissed off, hungry, and devastated, I do what any unmedicated, kidnapped Omega would do, I start shouting while banging on the door.
“Hey! Let me out!” I yell as I use my balled fist to bang on the door.
No one answers, and instead of stopping, I lie on the floor and use the heel of my foot to hit the door repeatedly. If anything, the consistent banging will annoy my captors enough to come up here to talk to me.
I, at the very least, deserve a fucking explanation.
I’m too pissed to get upset and cry. Instead, I just keep banging the door with my foot repeatedly.
Time feels like it’s flying by, but with no phone or clock I’m not sure how much, but I’m guessing it’s been at least an hour.
The knob turns, and I scurry away from the door on my butt until my lower back hits the frame of the bed.
I’m not sure who I expect to walk in. The most likely suspect was Declan. But before me stands Cillian’s evil twin, Finn, and he does not look pleased to see me.
15
FINN
Elena’sback is pressed against the bed, her red dress shimmied against her hips, and her sweater askew off her shoulder.
