These were all things I could worry about when I was at home, safe with my pack. Somewhere in the recesses of my mind, I could feel Marcus’ unease. I wondered if he could feel mine. At least that made me hopeful they knew I was missing.
My eyes started welling up at the thought of them noticing I was gone. They’re probably so worried. This wasn’t the time to be sobbing, but I couldn’t stop the barrage of tears suddenly falling down my face. I made sure to stay quiet as the tears fell and I walked around the room, looking for any potential exits. There was nothing, not a window, or even a crack in the concrete. The only in-or-out was the door at the top of the stairs.
I took a deep breath before hauling myself up there. It wasn’t really what I wanted to do, but I didn’t have a choice. The steep steps were wooden and old, creaking with my every move, even as I willed them not to. There was no light at the top, so it was hard to see, but the door looked metal.
When I reached it, I tried the handle. It would be too simple if it were just unlocked, but I had to try. I bent down to try to look at the lock. I didn’t know the first thing about lock picking, but it might be my only chance. In the movies, everyone used a bobby pin. I remember seeing online people using those protective keychains with, like, ninety tools on them to break into a lock, but that knowledge was useless.
Come on Eva, pull it together. I ran back down the stairs and started looking around. It took a bit of searching, but eventuallyI found a slight piece of scrap metal on the floor. Maybe it was a piece of broken spring from one of the mattresses? I couldn’t be sure, but it would have to work. My feet pounded the creaky steps as I went back up. I knew I needed to be quick—there was no telling where I was or when whoever took me would come back.
Without any experience, my best guess was to shove it in and poke around until I heard… something? All of the horror games I played really glazed over this part. Maybe if they’d been more specific, I’d be better off. Mentally, I made a note to ensure whatever game I made was thorough on the topic.
The piece of wire fit right in, and I moved it around, hoping for some sign that the lock disengaged.
The mechanical sound never came, not before I heard movement from outside. It was faint, but with the room silent save for me jingling the lock ineffectively, it was unmistakable.
I slid the small piece of metal into my pocket and bolted back down the stairs and onto the cot I’d awoken on.
The minutes seemed to drag on as I lay there, facing the wall, waiting for that door to open. Eventually, it did. I closed my eyes, hoping to feign sleep again.
“Boss is all fucked sideways about that bitch who got away. What was her name? Heidi? Avery?”
“Ivy,” a voice answered back. A very clear voice, one I recognized. “I know. He bonded with her and everything. I think he’ll get her back, though.”
My stomach dropped. What the fuck wasJasondoing here? And what happened to Ivy? I’d only met her the one time, but she seemed so nice.
“Think he’ll keep this one as a replacement?” the other man asked. “She’s pretty enough.”
“She was promised to me,” Jason said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
“Yeah, well, things change. Just don’t fight him if he wants her. Trust me, it’s not worth it.”
They reached the bottom of the stairs and stood in silence for a moment.
“Looks like she’s still out,” the other man said. “I’ll wait outside, just don’t be too rough with her in case the boss changes his mind.”
“I know,” Jason said, sounding distracted.
One set of footsteps ascended the stairs, leaving just Jason down here. I did my best to keep my breathing calm and even, as if I were asleep. My ears perked as he walked closer, until he was right next to my cot. His minty scent, which I usually associate with strong toothpaste, turned bitter, leaving a menthol aftertaste that made me nauseous.
“I know you’re not asleep,” he said. “That stupid beta might not have been able to tell, but your scent is sour, like you’re scared.”
I still didn’t move. Just hoped he would think I was having a bad dream and leave me be.
Instead, he kicked the cot, jostling me hard. I opened my eyes and sat up, facing him head-on.
He looked like he always did, painfully average, even for an alpha.
“What do you want?” I asked him.
He smirked. “Isn’t it obvious?” He squatted down to get closer to my height. “It’s you.”
“This isn’t the way to make someone like you,” I spit. “Let me go.”
His hand shot out and gripped my face. His fingers were cold, making the feeling even more uncomfortable. “I don’t care if you like me,” he said. “Omegas don’t know how to pick good alphas anymore. You don’tknowwhat you need. Omega’s need to betold who’s good, need to feel owned to know their true place in this world.”
It sounded like he was reading the script from one of those alpha podcasts that constantly spewed vitriol against omegas. They were like a vile alpha-centric echo chamber of their own idiocy. It was obvious he subscribed to some of that bullshit before, but this was on a whole other level.
“I don’t need that,” I insisted, pulling away until he released me. “I’m my own person, who can make my own choices.”
