Chapter 9 - Preston
Preston
It had been weeks since the warden had sent me into town to meet with the drug dealer. The only reason I’d been able to sneak out of camp was because he’d allowed it, and when I returned empty-handed, he’d been understandably pissed.
Still, I’d been asked to come to Camp Bower and figure out who exactly was smuggling drugs through the camp, I never expected it to be someone in a position of power.
So, while I was feeling like death warmed over and knew that the sweet omega probably felt just as bad, there was nothing I could do about it, because I was being watched even more than usual.
And hiding my symptoms was a joy.
It’d been nearly three months. All I could do was pray that the sickness wasn’t as bad for Hailey. She probably thought I was the lowest of the low, bonding, then leaving right after.
I don’t blame her.
At first, I'd expected her to try and find me at Camp Bower. There were programs that allowed alphas and omegas to spend time together while one of them was incarcerated, and I’d fully expected her to take advantage of that to see me.
I also expected it to completely blow my cover.
If the warden knew that I’d bonded with an omega, he would use that as leverage against me.
Edward Haskins was a piece of work. He’d instructed me to go into town and “pick up a package,” but without the actual items—because I had been distracted by Hailey—I had no evidence.
So I was back to the damn drawing board, trying to figure out how to nail his ass to the wall.
The desperation to get word back to Wilder and Nolan was mounting, too. Someone needed to check on Hailey, make sure she was okay. The worry was eating me alive.
As an alpha, my primary function was to protect omegas. Every instinct in my body screamed to care for them and keep them safe. And here I was putting my omega in danger, making her sick, and abandoning her.
I truly hated myself for it.
Only, getting word to my pack was damn near impossible while at the convict firefighter camp. The guards kept a close eye on us, and our calls were monitored.
I had one way, though. I just needed to get away from the watchful eye of the warden and the guards for a few minutes. Easier said than done.
Ever since my failure in town, they’d been watching me that much closer. Any time I'd even thought about sneaking away, they were right there, breathing down my neck like hungry wolves.
But I had to do something. I couldn’t just wait around and hope that my family could understand what was going on. They had no way to be sure since I’d dropped into the camp so damn fast.
Plus, it’d been three months after bonding, and I was still feeling like crap. I could handle it, though. I was trained to handle situations where I’d be in significant pain. Hailey, on the other hand, wasn't. She was sweet and fiery, and she didn’t deserve that kind of discomfort.
So, when mealtime rolled around and we all filtered into the chow cabin, I sat next to Dylan.
He was a good alpha who’d been arrested for robbery as a teenager and was only a few months away from finishing his sentence.
We’d become friends over the course of a few weeks, and I needed help so bad that I was willing to risk asking him.
“Hey, do you think the guards will be distracted today by the newbies coming to camp?” I asked in a low, rough voice.
Dylan studied me for a moment, his brows pinching together as if judging my intentions.
It was hard to tell who to trust in a place like this. Many inmates were so close to their release, they refused to do anything that could potentially endanger their position.
One wrong move, and we’d be sent right back to prison without even a warning.
He put his fork down, he turned toward me. “Sure, why, though?”
“I need to make a private call. To my girl, I don’t want those bozos listening in,” I muttered, glancing at the guards.
Dylan nodded, the corners of his mouth turning down. “Fair. Do it when they’re doing prisoner transfer—you’ll only have a few minutes, though.”
One nod back, and I smiled at him. “A few minutes is all I need.”
Dylan was a good man despite the teenage mistake, and from what I could tell, he hadn’t been near any of the illicit substances available in the camp.
It’d been pretty easy to tell who was using once I arrived. Several of the convicts had that glassy look in their eyes that was a dead giveaway.
Even now in the cafeteria, a few guys were dragging ass, seeming to be floating in their own little worlds.
“In that case, when we’re meeting the newbies, just go lie down. Say you have a headache,” Dylan suggested, gesturing toward the hall that led to the cells. “They’ll believe you because you’ve been sick nonstop lately, and not sick like some of the other guys in here.”
I knew he meant the ones getting high on a regular basis and suffering the consequences. We’d even seen a few ODs.
“Thanks, man. At least I don’t look as bad as them.” I chuckled half-heartedly. I didn’t envy their situation.
Dylan snorted. “Dude, you look worse.”
“I still look better than you.” I shoved his shoulder gently, not enough to get the guards twitching.
“What can I say, orange just isn’t my color. But sometimes we all need a little privacy.” He shrugged. “I’ll tell the guards you ain’t feeling too hot, but you know that won’t buy you much time.”
“A little is better than none. I owe you for this.”
Ideally, I would have found a way to do it without any help, but I was too sick and too low on resources. Having someone cover my ass was helpful.
“You bet your rear you do. Now, start moaning and shit. Better to play the long-con.”
That evening, when a bus of new convicts rolled up the road, I took my chance. My contraband phone was buried—literally—at the very edge of the camp. If my math was correct, I’d have about eight minutes to dig up the phone, make a call, and get back. Not ideal, sure, but I’d have to make do.
As soon as the guards repositioned to go check in the new prisoners, I made my move. Citing stomach issues—no one questioned diarrhea—I went to lie down and rest.
Thankfully, my contact who’d helped me enter the camp detailed all the security camera blind spots, so I was able to sneak out a back window toward the fencing without anyone noticing.
My steps were sluggish, despite the adrenaline running through my body. The sickness was taking a serious toll on me. There was a reason newly bonded alphas and omegas tended to take bonding leave.
Without one another, they became utterly useless those first few months. And I was feeling pretty damn useless. But I didn’t have time to baby myself.
Using only my hands, I clawed at the ground, dirt shoving up under my fingernails that I’d have to wash right away.
I sighed when I recovered the cell phone, tucked safely inside a ziplock bag.
I wasted no time ripping away the plastic and powering it up.
Thankfully, it was a fairly modern device that turned on quickly.
There were no contacts, but I knew the number I needed to call by heart.
“Hello?” Nolan's controlled voice answered the call.
“Nolan, thank fuck, man.”
“Preston? It's good to hear from you. Did—”
“I can't talk long,” I said, cutting him off. “I’m in a town called Fairhaven Springs. I fucked up. Big time. I accidentally bonded with an omega. She's on her own and needs help. I can't get to her.”
“What? How did—”
“Will you go to her?” I asked, needing him to confirm. “It's been months. She's probably sick.”
I could see his eyeroll without being there. “Jesus, Preston. Of course, we'll go, but we need more information.”
Behind me, a light turned on.
Crap.
The guards were returning faster than I thought.
“I have to go. Fuck. Nolan, I’m in prison. Don’t reach out to me—please, just go to her!”
“Wait! How—”
Regretfully, I hung up, quickly throwing the phone into the dirt and kicking the small mound of dug-up mud on top of it. I didn't have the time to be careful or worry about the bag.
As soon as it was covered, I turned on my heel and darted back toward my cabin. There were several inmates per cabin, but most of the ones in mine were greeting the new recruits.
Conversation got louder as I approached, my steps reverberating up through my body. I wasn’t going to be lying about the stomach issues in a moment.
It was close, but I slipped inside and rushed to my bunk.
I lay there, hands behind my head, the picture of casual while my heart pounded in my chest, fighting to control my breathing, when the door opened and a guard—Hamilton—poked his head in.
“You okay, Manville?”
Don’t sound out of breath.
I nodded, steadying myself. “Yeah, I think something I ate just disagreed with me. How are the newbies looking?”
“We’ve got our work cut out for us.” He laughed, bobbing his head.
Most of the guards at Camp Bower weren’t actually bad guys, usually trained firefighters themselves. Some of them had even been through the program before.
Hamilton was alright. He respected everyone equally and spoke often about his mate and children. He seemed like a decent family man, which I knew would be rare in any other prison situation.
“I'm sure you'll get them shipshape in no time.” I offered, upping the groan as I shot him a mock salute.
“Yeah, yeah. Don’t puke on the bed. Cleaning the linen sucks ass.”
He left, and I rolled over onto my side, my heart still pounding in my ears.
Please. Please let that call work. She needs you, Nolan. Get to her.