Chapter 7 Kole
seven
Kole
Damn, that hurts.
Glaring after the little fox who escaped me, I yank the blade she left behind out of my side and drop it in a nearby trashcan. My balls still ache, thanks to her little stunt, but I'll survive.
"What the fuck happened to you?" The orderly I hate the least, Sam, asks as he rounds the corner, his eyes immediately going to my side, where a red spot grows larger by the second.
"I tripped." Why even bother making it believable?
His lips tighten into a line. "Josephine Harding?"
My brows shoot up. Is that her name? I never pay attention when the dipshits steal the patient files and make copies for everyone to look at. I didn't even realize we were getting a new inmate until I walked in and spotted her head of fiery red hair in my seat.
Could I have sat in a different seat? Of course, but then I wouldn't have had an excuse to talk to her. "The feisty redhead with the sweet way of talking?" Gods, I want to peel her out of that horrible jumpsuit and count every single freckle on her body.
With my tongue.
"That's her," he says, looking me over again.
"Then I have no idea what you're talking about. I tripped." He looks unconvinced. "Very hard."
"You can't protect her, Vasiliev—"
"Do not call me that name," I bite out, turning to walk away from him.
I've renounced that name. The last name my asshole father extended to me, his bastard son, when he shipped me to the States to be his lap dog for the Russian Mafia.
"Kole." His voice is more gentle, but I don't need his pity. We both know I don't belong here, that my father sold me to this facility to be experimented on like a lab rat when I made a decision that cost him millions of dollars.
A decision I would repeat over and over again.
"She doesn't need protecting," I grunt. "She can handle herself just fine."
"Okay, and what if she handles the wrong person? She's a danger to everyone here. She's already broken Lawson's nose," good, she's a bitch, "and beat Lars to a pulp." That's more surprising, but considering her obvious resilience, it shouldn't be.
I don't mention that based on my earlier conversation with her, I'm pretty sure she put a knife through Carson's hand for groping her.
No, while I can do whatever the hell I want around here, the less questions I have to answer about going after Carson later, the better.
"Maybe if more omegas were like her, I wouldn't be in here."
It's not a fair assessment, but I stopped caring about fair a long time ago.
"Kole—"
"Fuck off, Wright." I wave him off, continuing down the hallway as he calls after me.
"Make sure you get that looked at!" I ignore him, blatantly aware that he's one of the few orderlies that will let me get away with talking to him like that. I mean, I still talk to everyone how I want, but assholes like Banesworth will try to get me in for extra lab time because of it.
People leap out of my way as I walk through the courtyard, my hand still held on my side to staunch the blood flow.
My little Lisichka really is a feisty little thing.
On my way past Carson, who still holds his bandaged hand like it might fall off, I make a sudden turn. My hand grips his neck as I slam him against the wall, his dangling feet kicking in the air.
"Woah, man!" he chokes out, his good hand clawing at mine. "What did I do? What did I do?"
Whatever friends he had surrounding him quickly leave, as they should. Soon, there's no one within twenty feet—like an invisible barrier separating us from everyone.
"You tell me," I growl, anger rising in me at the thought of this little pest with his hands all over my omega.
Fuck.
My omega?
I blink a few times, focusing on the way Carson's eyes are bugging out of his head. "What did you do to her? The omega who gave you that wound?"
"I don't know what you're talking about man—" He lets out a sharp wheeze when I squeeze his neck tighter for just a second before letting him breathe again. "Okay, okay! I grabbed her tits from behind. It was nothing man, I didn't know she was yours—"
My fingers tighten on his neck again, his face turning purple. But my side is starting to bleed more, and I'm feeling light headed. I need to wrap this up. "If you ever lay a hand on her again, I will remove both of your hands from your body. Slowly and painfully."
He nods, his face turning blue, his hands still trying to gain purchase. I release him, and he drops to the ground, gasping for breath. "I promise, I promise, I'm sorry."
But I'm already walking away from him, wincing as I let myself into the dorms. When I reach my room, I pull my keycard out of my pocket and scan it.
I stumble into the small room, immediately going for my first aid kit I managed to lift from the nurse’s office. Well, I broke into the office in the middle of the night and raided her supplies so I don't have to go see her.
It only takes me a minute to start stitching up the wound in my side, and I wince at the pain.
Am I worried about repercussions for anything I just did? Absolutely not.
I can do whatever the fuck I want here. They need me.
They stay out of my way, and in return I let them experiment all sorts of wonky shit on my body without putting up a fight.
Because that drug they're so proud of and pushing on everyone? I'm immune to it.
My instincts are not dampened, my alpha not in a cage.
And they can't figure out why.
So of course, that means that I'm their lab rat.
It's worth it though, if it means I can do what I need to protect the omega that's come into my life.
Delicious apple pie scent and all.