Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Saylor
I startle awake with no idea where I am. The same man from earlier gives my shoulder a firm shake, and everything rushes back like a tidal wave.
He cracks a bottle of water, holding it in front of my face as he leans over me. “It’s safe. No drugs or anything like that.”
My brain is so fuzzy, all I can do is blink as I stretch away from him.
He sighs, brings the bottle to his lips, pours some into his mouth, and swallows before offering it back to me. “Don’t be stubborn. Drink it. You need it.”
Taking the bottle, I follow his instructions, mostly because my mouth is so dry that my throat hurts.
I needed the bathroom when that evil lady sedated me, but I no longer have the urge to go.
“What did she do to me?” I ask, grimacing at how hoarse my voice sounds.
“She flushed the suppressants from your system.” He stands to his full height, and my jaw falls as it clicks…
We aren’t in the same room as earlier.
I’m in what looks like a room in a hospital, or maybe in a psych ward.
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “You cannot lock me up in here.” Propelling myself up until I’m standing, I grab his forearms. “You don’t understand. I might be an omega, but I panic in confined spaces. It’s even worse when I’m alone.”
“Step the fuck back,” a dangerous voice growls from the doorway.
My jaw falls, and I stagger backward a step. There’s another guard, but this one is in full tactical gear, and he has a very big gun pointed at my head. I think that might be an assault rifle, but what I can’t seem to process is why it’s pointing at me .
“Calm down,” the guy inside the room with me snarls back. “She’s terrified and clearly not a threat.”
“It’s protocol to keep the inmates in our sights when a member of the staff is out on the block,” the man in the door says, like he’s repeating a quote from their handbook or something.
“You can’t teach common sense,” the guy in front mutters, nodding toward the doorway. “Give us a minute. You can tell she’s not a danger.” He refocuses on me. “The doors to each room unlock at eight a.m. and relock at eight p.m. Make sure you’re somewhere safe, or any of the alphas can claim you and drag you to their cells.”
I take a step back as my eyes widen. “Please, just verify my story. My father will pay…” I panic and ramble out the phone number to my childhood home, since it’s the first one that comes to mind, but I have no idea if he cares enough to commit it to memory.
The man cuts his eyes toward the door and back at me. “I will do my best to notify your family of where you are, but there’s no guarantee this place will even negotiate for your return. I can’t save you from what comes next. You’ll need to keep yourself alive…” He grimaces, swiping a hand over his face. “We’re talking days, at a minimum, possibly weeks. There’s no guarantee how long it will take, and chances are, you’ll be leaving here bonded.”
“No,” I hear myself say. “Please, you have to let me out now.”
“My bosses would never allow it.” His jaw clenches. “You’re a scent match to multiple alphas. The best advice I can give you is to find yourself a protector or two. Hell, even a pack. There are enough of them around here. There’s a hierarchy. Find someone near the top. They’ll keep you alive until you can be extracted.”
“You’re telling me to seek out alphas and let them do whatever they want in exchange for their protection?” My head shakes. Nothing makes sense. “What about when they’re locked in their rooms? How will they protect me then?”
“There are no rules that say you can’t be locked in with them,” he says, keeping his voice low. “It’s actually encouraged. You’re dealing with the most dangerous assets some very rich men aren’t ready to lose. They’ll do anything necessary to get their assassins back to working order, and omegas are the key to that. You’re not the only one of your designation on this floor. There are eight other omegas in A block alone. The facility doesn’t force bonding, but they do put rabid alphas in a confined space with unbonded omegas, so it’s really the same thing…”
Fear like I’ve never experienced washes over me so violently that I find myself bending in half.
“Look, stick with the women at mealtimes. We put you in their wing to start.” He sighs. “If I were you, I’d avoid anyone with a Russian accent—at least, the ones in A block. They did some especially heinous things to earn their stay here. I have to go.”
“Give me a name,” I beg, trying to find something to give me hope. “Someone who isn’t going to rape and murder me.”
His entire body goes rigid. “They won’t kill you. The other inmates would never stand for it. An omega is an opportunity for mental clarity and a chance to escape this place.”
Okay, so they need me…or at least a few of them might. There are limits to how many bonds an omega should take on. More than eight or nine, and the connection becomes too overwhelming for one person to sustain. And it’s always the omega who faces the worst repercussions.
Even if I have a purpose, that doesn’t mean they’ll treat me well or even respect my right to consent or my insistence that I want nothing to do with them.
“If you can make a deal with someone, it’s probably the fastest way to get out of here, but bonds can’t be forced,” he says, heading for the door. “Just remember that.”
“None of them are safe enough options for you to give me a name? Someone I can seek out?”
He spins in the doorway and frowns. “They’re all killers—machines trained to enact orders and not to ask questions.”
“Please?” I beg, studying his face for any signs of humanity.
“Valor.” He sighs. “He’s here for the right reasons, even if he had the wrong methods, but he won’t give you the time of day. He never does.” His hand pounds against the doorframe. “And stay the fuck away from his beta. That lunatic voluntarily came into this place…that should say it all.”
The door closes loudly, but there are no noises to indicate it locks behind him.
My hand moves to rub my aching stomach. The empty feeling tells me it’s been a long time since I’ve eaten, but the sheer panic sitting heavy in my chest wouldn’t allow me to eat, anyway.
That guy painted a grim picture, but he also said he would notify my family of where I am.
That means I just have to stay alive and unbonded for long enough for them to come for me.
What the hell am I supposed to do now?
* * *
The room or cell I was given has a bed, a chair, and most importantly…an attached bathroom. It doesn’t have a shower, but there is a toilet and a sink. After determining the water tastes terrible—but probably won’t kill me—I make a plan.
Humans can easily live a few weeks without food. It might suck, but it’ll be worth it. I just have to survive long enough for my father or the security company to pay for my release.
So, I hunker down.
I don’t get a moment of rest as what I assume is the afternoon passes.
Commotion and people talking in the hallway outside my door put me on high alert, but I keep the light off and stay in bed. My room doesn’t have a clock, but an alarm fills the air, and about five minutes later, my door buzzes loudly. A little red light appears on the door handle, and I hope that means I’m locked in safely for the night.
Waking up the next morning is unsettling. The same alarm sounds, and within a few minutes, the door buzzes, and the light turns green.
I rub my tired eyes, looking at the bathroom. Barricading myself in there is one option, but it doesn’t have a lock.
My stomach has never been so empty, and the thought of food is tempting, but I still refuse to leave my room.
There are glass panels on either side of my door and various women peep in throughout the day. Every time someone else appears, I roll over and do the most omega thing possible—I cover my head with my blanket and daydream I’m back home, safe and sound in the nest in my childhood bedroom.
That lasts for a few hours, but eventually, people start to congregate outside my door. From the sounds of it, it’s a group of women, but there’s no way to be sure.
In a place like this, I doubt anyone is safe to be around. Curling up into a ball, I say a prayer and even beg my mom to watch over me. I’m not big on religion, but that woman loved the hell out of me. If she’s able to look in on me, I know she does.
Someone knocks on the door, and I go still.
It’s a ridiculous reaction.
It’s not like I turn invisible if I don’t move, but I’m not sure what else to do.
“Do you speak English?” a muffled female voice asks from outside the door.
I don’t respond.
There’s no telling how much time passes, but she tries again in German, followed by Dutch, and finally what I think might be Russian.
Still, I stay silent.
“If you’d like an escort to lunch, now is the time to come out,” the female voice calls.
Pulling my pillow over my head, I try to breathe through the panic sitting heavy in my chest.
It’s tempting.
I’m so hungry, it feels like my body is trying to eat itself, but I still pray for whoever is out there to go away.
The door swings open, and I hold my breath.
She tries in Russian first and then switches to English. “Each of us has been in your situation. There is safety found in numbers. If you’re not careful, the guards will drag you from bed and toss you into the common room. They won’t stand for you hiding for much longer.”
My entire body stiffens.
I’m not sure why I didn’t let my mind go there, but if they want omegas to interact with alphas in hopes of bringing them back from the edge of being feral, then that makes sense.
No, wait. They said these alphas are rabid… Not even feral.
“We’ve got one other newcomer. You’ll want to get the lay of the land together. There’s also the benefit of not being the sole new addition.” Footsteps approach, and my heart thunders. “I’m Maggie. Lying around while worrying how awful it’ll be makes everything worse. Come on, then. Up with you before I drag your blanket off.”
I barely have a half second to weigh the pros and cons of what she’s saying before she grabs the bottom of the thin blanket and tugs.
“Hey!” I growl, trying to pull it back over my face.
“Ahh, the other one speaks English too.” Maggie laughs, but my world tilts.
Oh, God.
I never even considered the possibility, but please, God…
Tell me they didn’t get Avery too.
Releasing my hold on the blanket, I sit straight up, shoving my messy hair back from my face.
“The other woman. The newcomer. What’s her name?” I ask, trying not to panic as I hit my socked feet.
“Elyse? Elsie? It was hard to make out through the incessant crying.” Maggie shrugs.
A whoosh of pure relief leaves my lips. Being trapped in here is one thing, but I’m grateful Avery wasn’t caught by the same men who kidnapped me.
“I’ll take it that’s not who you thought it would be.” Maggie is beautiful. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but the voice seemed more hardened or possibly mature than the story her physical appearance tells. She has long brown hair that falls around her lithe shoulders, and she’s not in the horrendous outfit they gave me.
I’m unreasonably jealous about that. The pants are especially itchy, and they’ve been driving my sensory issues crazy.
Is there a place to get other clothes?
Possibly an extra blanket or two?
I shivered all night long, but I attributed some of that to fear.
My head shakes as I remember her question, and my eyes widen when I spot the plethora of women standing around the doorway. “I thought they might have grabbed someone important to me when they took me.”
Maggie studies me carefully as her dark eyes narrow.
It’s an unsettling feeling, and I’m not sure what I’ve done wrong, so I take a step back.
“They’re going to have a field day when they get a look at you,” she finally mutters. “How old are you?”
“Almost twenty-one.” I pull my shoulders back, and I have no idea why.
Maybe it’s her tone, or it could be her scent, but my instincts don’t like having another omega in what is supposed to be my private space.
Her scent is a combination of tart orange and brown sugar, and it makes me nearly gag the longer I breathe it in.
Shit.
I might have just made a huge mistake.
If I had lied and said I was underage, would she have ordered everyone to stay away from me? Does she even have that level of authority over the people here?
“Come on.” Maggie spins around and walks toward the group of women loitering around my doorframe. “Stay close to my group, and don’t make eye contact with the animals.”
A lump forms in my throat as I try to swallow. That’s an insensitive way to talk about other human beings…but, God, I hope that’s not a sign of what’s to come.