Of course, she hasn’t removed the cloning tool—which is what I’m using now to watch her.
If she finds it, I have a backdoor I can access.
But she seems to be more focused on finding a way to make a call.
When she slips past the final layer, my heart gives a pang.
Because her father’s name is the one she brings up on her phone first.
I intercept it before she can even hear the first ring and say, “Nice try, little black hat. You’ll have to do better than that.” I hang up her line and hit a stroke on my keyboard that re-enables every layer on her phone in a matter of seconds.
A shriek sounds from the other room.
Followed by another crash.
“Think she threw her phone this time?” Noah asks conversationally.
I shrug. “We’ll find out soon enough.”
The door opens to display a pissed-off omega—one who happens to be missing a shoe.Ah, so it was a boot she threw at the door, then.
“You said I could talk to my family. Was that a lie?” she demands.
Laz looks at her, his expression a mask of boredom. “You may speak to your brother anytime you would like, but you’ll need to use my phone if you wish to call him right now.”
Her eyes narrow. “So I am a prisoner.”
“A pretty pet,” Noah corrects her. “One we’re going to cherish and take care of in every way.”
That appears to be the wrong thing to say because she scowls. “I do not want to be apet. Nor do I want to be a prisoner. I want to be free.”
“Then follow the rules, and you’ll earn your freedom,” Laz tells her. “Do you remember the ones I’ve given you thus far?”
She simply glares at him.
Which causes him to smile. “Rule three, then, is I expect you to take care of yourself.” He looks down at her bare feet, which are standing in the remains of the coffee cup she shattered. “As of right now, you do not appear to be obeying rule three all that well. I suggest you reconsider.”
Her nostrils flare. “Fuck. You.”
He arches a brow. “Is that an invitation, darling?”
“It’s certainly not me begging,” she snaps back at him.
And proceeds to slam the door closed again.
“You have thirty minutes to take a shower,” he calls after her. “If you don’t, I’ll come in there and supervise you while you obey!”
I type all that out in a text message to send to her.
The response I get is instant, and it’s a middle-finger emoji.
When I show Laz, he smiles. “Please inform her that I look forward to showering with her in thirty minutes.”
“Why do you get to be the one who ensures she follows the rules?” Noah demands. “Maybe I want to bathe our pet.”
“Because I came up with the rule.”
“One you again didn’t run by us,” Noah points out while I type Laz’s words into my computer and hit Enter. “I’m getting really tired of you making all the decisions,boss.”
