Chapter 23 Nelly
NELLY
Hello, Wyoming...
Wyoming hit me as I stumbled from the climate-controlled cabin, down the plane stairs, and onto the tarmac.
The air was dry, parching my throat as I breathed.
It smelled clean though, the way the outdoors should.
I’d been in big cities so long that I’d forgotten what the world could smell like away from skyscrapers and exhaust fumes.
My bound hands throbbed in rhythm with my racing heart, the cuffs trying to cut deeper with each involuntary movement.
Forehead Vein and Spider Tattoo flanked me like prison guards.
The latter holding a tablet and controlling the speed of our descent down the plane steps, while the other cast a dark shadow over me from behind.
I squinted against the sunlight, eyes protesting after the dim interior of the cabin.
At first, the sun seemed to hover in the exact same position as it had before we’d taken flight, then it popped up into proper place as my vision adjusted.
It had been morning when we’d left Seattle then, not late afternoon.
Wyoming… an hour ahead. Around noon, maybe.
The ascent was nearly complete.
Three steps more to go.
Then two.
The last.
And my sandaled feet touched down on this different tarmac, its surface cracked and ill-kempt compared to the Seattle one. I shuffled a little, letting the soles of my body feel my new surroundings through the thin shoes. Fractured. Uneven.
“Walk,” one of the men said, I wasn’t sure which. The entirety of my focus was on orienting to this new landscape. To the blue-grey mountains beyond the trees. To the bright, endless sky so different from Seattle’s smoggy offering.
When I didn’t move fast enough, I was shoved in the back.
I stumbled a little, ankles wobbling in the delicate sandals which were so impractical in this situation.
The slinky dress fluttered around my calves, its expensive fabric catching a sudden breeze.
My coppery curls flowed from beneath the face-concealing hood.
Rebellious strands used the light wind to lift and stick to my mouth.
I reached up with throbbing, captured hands and hooked a finger to pull the hair from my lips.
When I glanced down, I saw a smear of coral across my skin.
Lipstick someone else had applied, in a color I’d never wear.
“Told you to walk.” The voice was ahead of me. Spider Tattoo.
I blinked. He was turned, looking at me with unveiled irritation.
Had I stopped moving?
Yes, I had. I was still as a statue, positioned only a few yards from the steps.
Somewhere in the distance, a propeller engine sputtered to life, the sound bouncing off the hangers and tiny terminal nearby.
I wish I were on that plane readying to leave Wyoming.
I wish I hadn’t just arrived at the start line of this new challenge.
I’d give anything to cross the finish line now, whatever that finish line might look like, and be out of this situation.
"You're making this harder than it needs to be. Behind me, Forehead Vein grumbled in a low voice before gripping the back of my upper arm. His fingers dug in hard enough to make me gasp. “And the damn clients are watching.”
He nodded his head, indicating a direction.
My eyes snapped up, anxiety blooming through every part of me.
Five figures walking towards the plane. They moved as a unit, the one in front slightly ahead of the others.
As they came closer, I recognized the pack leader as one of the twins.
I was glad for the hood’s protection as my eyes began to rove over each of the men slowly.
I was glad it hid what I knew my expression would show—instant, chemical desire.
Even at a distance, something inside of me triggered.
A switch flipped.
Mine.
They commanded the world around them with purposeful strides, Alpha aura a literal cloud that if I squinted just right, I could see shimmering around them.
They flowed forward with the confidence that came with knowing the seas would part for them.
They walked like they owned the world, and they’d come to claim the one thing they’d been denied up until now.
Me.
As they closed the distance, their mingled scents grew stronger.
Fertile soil.
Morning dew on honeysuckle.
Campfire.
Leather.
Whiskey and everything wild.
My own scent betrayed me, pluming out in a heady cloud that made both Beta goons sniff involuntarily.
I reached up without thinking to push the hood off.
When the edge of the shimmering cover was just below my nose, Spider Tattoo’s hand flashed into my sightlines.
He managed to slap my face with a lowering rush of his flattened palm, while also pushing my cuffed hands downward to prevent the veil from shifting higher.
Both my nose and right cheek stung, and my wrists screamed at the jarring movement which made the digging restraints shift against the tender skin.
I stumbled, but Forehead Vein’s impossibly firm grip kept me upright.
Spider Tattoo leaned into me. I arched away as much as possible when he began to speak in a voice that only promised one thing—pain.
“These country boys paid millions for you, and they expect their merch to be as advertised. So, keep the fucking hood on and your mouth shut. If you botch this hand-off, the penalties will come out of our paycheck. If that happens,” he paused, coming a fraction closer, “you’ll cover the loss with that Omega body of yours before we hand you back to Eros. ”
“Go ahead, asshole,” I seethed, “You think you’re scary? I’m used to Alphas. You’re just a Beta someone bosses around.”
His hand cocked back, and I closed my eyes, bracing to be hit.
“Touch her one more time. I fucking dare you.” A new voice joined our trio. Deep, rumbling, thunder before a storm.
My Omega stretched and perfumed the air, but I didn’t open my eyes. With certainty, I knew it was one of the Alphas. One of my Alphas. Saving their merchandise from damage.
“Sir, the product is being—”
“Take the handcuffs off our Omega.” Came another voice; this one was warm, smooth, and thick as honey.
“We were forced to restrain her on the—”
“You were forced to restrain a woman that’s half your size?” This one was all animal, snarls tattering the edges of syllables.
“If we hadn’t, she’d have—”
“Every second those handcuffs stay on, is another second I debate whether you should stay alive or not.” This was lightning. Striking. Precisely. No games, no empty threats. Just a bolt of warning.
“Yes, sir. Yes, we’ll take them off right now.” I thought it was Spider Tattoo who was now falling over himself trying to make my Alphas happy. His voice was higher, shifting into a subservient tone.
I opened my eyes, staring down at the fumbling fingers trying to unlock the restraints.
When they fell away from my aching, indented wrists I sighed in relief, rubbing gently at the purple bruises.
The tennis bracelets slid up and down as I shifted, working out the lingering pain, scraping gently across tender spots.
Frowning, I violently yanked off the jewelry.
They fell to the tarmac, clinking sharply, the stones catching sun rays.
They were probably expensive, but right now they only felt like a second set of restraints.
“Are you okay?” The question was measured, each word weighed carefully.
I blinked up through the shimmering hood, finding a set of forest green eyes set into a tanned face. He smiled softly, revealing a slight gap in his front teeth. My heart hiccupped, giving a jerky bounce in my chest.
“I’m Wade,” he said again, brow furrowing, gaze softening.
Words wouldn’t form; I couldn’t respond.
“It’s Nelly, right?” he pressed. The other men didn’t move a muscle. They simply stared at me, their expressions warring between emotions.
“The product’s name is Nelly Shaw.” This from Spider Tattoo, who closed his mouth quickly when two of the Alphas turned in his direction with warning looks.
“Nelly’s a beautiful name,” Wade continued after the interruption.
Something about Wade's gentle tone made me want to respond, to hear my own voice mingle with his, but fear kept me silent. These men owned me now, according to Eros. According to the law.
"Can I... can I remove your hood?" Wade asked, coming a few steps closer. He lifted his hands, hovering them near me but not touching. "Is that okay?"
I flinched away instinctively. Even his careful approach felt too close after the rough treatment.
"It's alright," he assured me, voice dropping to a soothing near whisper.
"We're not going to hurt you." His head rotated just enough to glance at the Eros goons, who’d shuffled off to the side after the cuffs were removed.
I watched as his eyes grew darker. He projected his next words, ensuring they carried. “No one is going to hurt you now.”
A bitter laugh escaped my lips before I could stop it. "Right. You just bought me like a broodmare. But you won't hurt me." My voice was raspy, unfamiliar even to my own ears.
Wade's head snapped back in my direction. His expression shifted, something like guilt flashing across his features. Behind him, the other Alphas exchanged glances.
"We didn't know they'd bring you like this," said another voice.
I looked over to see Wyatt, the second twin. Unlike Wade's gentleness, Wyatt seemed all hardness and sharp edges. "This isn't what we agreed to."
"What exactly did you agree to?" I demanded, finding my voice at last. "Buying a person? Having me delivered like a package?"
My hands trembled with rage as I reached up and yanked the hood back myself, exposing my face fully to the Wyoming sun and to the five men who thought they owned me. The light was almost painful after hours of dimness, but I refused to squint or look away.