Mustache guard led us to a small, plain room on the second floor. My heart sank when I realized this room didn’t have a window. It was clean, with a plush carpet on the floor and a small vanity in the corner.
“You’ve got one hour,” Mullet said. He briefly met my gaze before breaking eye contact with seeming embarrassment. Maybe he had been upset by what I’d said earlier.
“We’ll be right outside,” he added dully, stepping out of the room with Mustache and closing the door behind them.
I quickly took in my surroundings, seeing if I could find anything that would work as a weapon but came up short. Should I try to knock my mother unconscious and make my escape?
“Sit down so I can try to fix your face,” my mother said, pushing me towards the chair in the corner.
I did what she asked without thinking, my brain working so sluggishly between the lack of sleep, food, and my overwhelming fear. My red, splotchy face stared back at me through the mirror.
My mother and Genevieve started working on my makeup. I imagined what my alphas would do if they were here. Cam would barge in, guns blazing, ignoring all of Theo’s careful planning and research. Ben would probably pull out some sort of charcuterie as we were escaping and try to feed me. Theo would hold my hand through it all.
The image was so ridiculous I almost laughed out loud.
I was losing my mind, but I didn’t care if it meant I could hold on to the fantasy of my alphas being alive and coming for me.
My mother brushed my tangled hair, her touch surprisingly gentle as she teased out the knots.
“You always did have pretty hair,” she murmured. “I used to brush it for you when you were young.”
Our eyes met briefly in the mirror before she averted her gaze with a frown. I could have sworn her expression was one of guilt, but I knew better—I’d long stopped looking for redeeming qualities in my mother.
When they were done with my hair and makeup, she held out the dress I was supposed to wear. I looked around, realizing I would have to undress in front of her. I gritted my teeth and took off the tiny sack I’d been given to sleep in and put on a shiny, white satin dress. I waited for my mother to comment on my body—probably something about how I was still too fat. Maybe she’dtskat the bruises and cuts on my knees, hands, and arms, telling me it was my fault for being so clumsy.
But she said nothing, seemingly lost in thought. I risked looking at Genevieve, who gave me a little shrug as she glanced at my mom.
With a sharp inhale of breath and a small nod to herself, my mother locked eyes with me. “Omegas are resourceful, Josie. We have to take the opportunities we’re given.”
She gave me a final once-over, tucking a curl behind my ear before opening the door and slipping out.
I waited for the sound of the lock clicking into place, but it never came.
“We’re done,” my mother said, her voice imperious as she addressed the guards in the hall. “I already locked the door. I need you to show me how to get back to my pack. This dreadful house always confuses me.”
I looked at the unlocked door and back at Genevieve, who mirrored my disbelief. What would she do? Would she betray me again?
Feeling like I was about to throw up, I squared my shoulders. “Is it still you in there?” My voice was quiet to keep the guards from overhearing, but I was proud of how strong I sounded.
“Some version of me,” Genevieve said, her fierce expression a stark contrast to the meek, defeated one I’d seen on her face this past week. “Think she did it on purpose?” she asked, nodding towards the unlocked door.
“I don’t know. Might be a trap.”
“Could be.”
I looked my former friend in the eyes. “I’m going to escape. Are you going to stop me?”
If I acted quickly, I could probably use my self-defense skills to incapacitate her, lock her in this room, and use the alpha tabs to make my escape. I was pretty sure I could find the hidden exit on my own.
“I’m coming with you,” she said, her eyes blazing. Then she bit her lip, the first sign of uncertainty I’d seen from her. “Please.” The last word came out as a vulnerable whisper.
As I looked at the shadow of the Genevieve I once knew, I realized I couldn’t leave her here to endure more of Glen’s torture. No one deserved that. Goddamn, my soft heart.
“I swapped out your water,” she blurted out. “So you wouldn’t be drugged anymore.”
Shit. That must have been why she spilled the water. The bruise the guard gave her still shadowed the side of her face. There was no way I could leave her now.
I felt like my mind was moving at turtle speed as I tried to figure out what to do next, knowing that every second that passed increased our chances of being trapped here forever.
