She smiles sadly. Then takes my spoon from me and crosses back to her small kitchen, putting them both in the dishwasher and the ice cream container in the trash.
“I'm sorry, Ally.”
I snort and shake my head again. “No, I should have listened to you.”
She presses her lips together and shrugs. “Sometimes you have to learn from your own mistakes.”
A week.I hid for a week. Not that I think they are looking for me or care one way or another. But sleeping on Dee's couch became too much. I need to think about the rest of my life. I have a job to find and a real life to live.
My feet carry me down my block in the early morning light. Thankfully, the only living thing depending on me in my apartment’s a succulent. And those little plants are resilient, I should probably learn from them.
Before I reach my stairs, arms come around me. A bag is pulled over my head and my scream cut off before it can even exit my lips. Still, I struggle as whoever it is tosses me into what feels like a trunk. I kick out at empty air, pushing up off the scratchy carpet.
It's useless.
My wrists are pulled and secured behind me. The sound of the trunk shutting. I kick at the metal, screaming out in anger and fear.
After what feels like both minutes and hours all at once, the trunk pops open, light filtering through the hood covering my eyes. And I'm lifted from the space, helpless, trapped.
My head swims, and I know I'm close to passing out. This is how I die.
A harsh gasp is punched from my lungs as my ass hits a padded surface. And I come up fighting. I may not be able to see, but I can still do damage.
“Let me go!”
I slam my head up into a very hard chin and earn a grunt of pain.There's more where that came from, fucker.I kick out and a firm hand grips me, tugging my high heel shoe off and tossing it away. Then I'm dragged over the surface, until thighs the size of my head pin me down.
“Shhhh, Bunny, you're safe. You've just got a lesson to learn.” Oz's voice washes over me, and I sag against the hard surface.
I'm safe. It's Oz.
The hood’s lifted from my head, revealing Beckett, Wade, and Oz in their masks from the hunt. Oz flashes me a smile full of teeth. Wade rubs at his jaw and wipes a bit of blood from a swollen lip.
“Ready for your lesson, Sweetheart?”
“What is the lesson?” I'm almost afraid to ask since the last time I saw any of them I was turning in my notice. That was a week ago.
“That you might run, but we'll always catch you, Sugar.”
“I'm not a toy, and you don't want an omega so—” I allow my words to hang between us. Daring them to deny them.
Beckett lifts up slightly and peers down at me. “Who said we don't want an omega?”
“You!” I shout, finding my fight again. “All three of you! I heard you.”
They share a look that's full of silent conversation.
“You mean the night you turned in your notice?” Wade asks, before adding on, “Which we reject by the way.”
He runs the straps of leather cuffs over his fingers and watches me, his violet eyes sparkling.
“You can't stop me from quitting,” I say stubbornly.
Wade nods to Oz, and he slips his fingers around my wrist, holding me still long enough for Wade to secure the cuff on. Not that I fight them. No. My whole body’s against me. Cinnamonand sugar blooms between us as my heart tries to leave my body by any means possible.
“Sweetheart, if you listened a little longer, you would have heard us say…besides you. You’re the only omega any of us will ever want.”
Once my wrists are connected, Wade stretches them above my head and latches them to something. So much for struggling and earning my freedom. I let him do that. And he knows it. Because of the three of them, Wade would have stopped if he thought I was serious. Hell, if I used my word, all of it would have stopped. They like the fight as long as it’s all part of a scene.
