8. O-11
Chapter eight
O-11
What is time? You need a clock, or, lacking that, access to daylight to measure time. Otherwise, it doesn’t exist. All I have are the irregular biorhythms in my body and a meal tray, which may or may not be arriving once per day. They’ve thrown the spy into solitary confinement until she breaks.
I lean my head back against the wall and giggle. This spy will never cave. I may seem pathetic, huddled up next to the sliver of light that reaches under the door, but it’s all part of my training. If I had a spy code name, I’ve forgotten what it was. Alice? Llewelyn? Or something dramatic, like Red Hawk? Hovering in one place while I wait for the right moment to dive on my prey. Sounds right.
With nothing else to do, I practice the facial expression I’ll have at the precise moment my alphas come for me. Overjoyed, obviously, but perhaps a little pouty because they took so damn long. Or maybe downright pissed off.
“Too long,” I mutter into the cloying darkness.
The shadows slip into my throat, clogging my airways, and I rock gently to remind myself the darkness can’t kill me. Not today.
Not unless I’m in heat; then all bets are off.
I don’t think the unhappy alpha in my head likes the dark either. At some point while I was stuck here, his tone changed. At first I got excited, thinking it meant he was closer, but that wasn’t the case. The keening crackle like TV static in my head seems even more distressed than before.
“Are you real?” I ask into the silent, chilly room. “Tell me I’m not imagining you. Just a small sign is all I need.” I might die if I ever get out of here only to discover what I’m hearing is tinnitus.
No one answers, and even the voices seem quieter than usual. I’ve been abandoned.
With a growl, I clutch my head in my hands and rest on my drawn-up knees. “Never doubt yourself, Red Hawk. They don’t get to take your sanity. Never ever!” Except I think I’ve been here so long I might be due to go into heat again.
Ray threatened I wouldn’t get out of here until after my next heat. Eight weeks of darkness and loneliness followed by another three days of biting inferno before I get to shower.
To distract myself, I think about the other omegas. The bitch squad probably reported that I’m having an episode . Very convenient word, that is. Who are they to judge what sanity is in the first place, when they’re clearly murderous motherfucking psychopaths?
I miss O-4. Who knows what happened to a sweet woman like her? If anyone deserves a loving pack, it’s her.
A gunshot sounds somewhere outside my door, and I jolt upright. Did I sink too deep into the spy role? I strain to listen, wondering if my mind’s inventing things now.
No, I hear faint shouts in the distance.
“Help!” I scream, slamming my palms against the door. “I’m in here!”
What the fuck happens if this den of thieves gets raided but they don’t know I’m locked in a room in the far wing? The meal trays will stop and I’ll turn into a skeleton. Probably with so much unfinished business I’ll end up cursed to haunt this joint for a thousand years.
I pound on the door again, my breath catching as the terrifying possibility settles in my chest like concrete. “Help! Help me!”
More gunshots echo in the distance. I can’t tell anymore where real noise ends and the frantic beating of my heart begins. What if Red Hawk’s handlers eventually come for her and all that’s left is a pile of rat-chewed bones heaped in a corner of a forgotten nest?
I spread my feet and hammer both fists on the door. “Let me out, you damn sons of cock-sucking bitches. Let me out, or I’ll sic my ancestors on you and your offspring for thirty generations! You’ll never sleep again, you whoremongering haze stealers! Let me out!”
A bolt slides and the door smacks into me, sending me tumbling backward. “Fucking idiot!” I gasp out, agony running through my nose. My fingers come away sticky. “You made me bleed!”
“Miss? Are you okay?” an unfamiliar voice asks. The man promptly gags at the unholy smell in the room.
“Holy shit,” a second voice says, clearly appalled.
I have every intention of glaring at whoever slammed the door into me, but so much light blazes behind him I can’t see anything. My eyes water and I flinch away. While I cup my streaming nose with a hand, I hold one finger up, silently telling them to wait. When the pain’s under control, I slowly get to my feet.
The man hanging hesitantly in the doorway wears a blue uniform with OCB printed on the front in white letters. The cuffs, black baton, and gun on his hip look authentic enough.
Omega Crimes Bureau. Where the fuck have they been for the past eon?
“Took you long enough,” I hiss as I saunter past him, hitting an alpha-male scent cloud. Another OCB agent waits in the hall, covering his partner’s back.
“We’re here to rescue you,” the first alpha says gently, like he lets captives out of rotting cells every day of his life. “Please follow me, and we’ll take you to safety.” His gaze flicks through the dark room then back to me with alarm.
“Sure, but I need a minute first.” I wander back up the corridor, peeking into rooms until I find a bathroom with a shower.
The agents scurry after me. “I’m sorry, but we don’t have time for that, miss. We need to get you out of here in case we run into danger. And you need a medical assessment.”
I spin around and pin him in place with my glare. “You and I both know I reek of shit and piss, not to mention months-old haze. I’m not getting in a car or whatever pumpkin carriage exit you have lined up smelling like this.”
I stab one finger in his face. “In the first place, the other omegas don’t know about the bullshit I’ve experienced here.” I wave vaguely toward the pit I just walked out of before lifting my second finger. “And second, I’m an actress, and I have an image to maintain. I’m sure you have your pride too, right, agent?”
His eyes widen. “An actress? What movies?”
I smirk. “Red Hawk Down.” When his brows furrow with confusion, I add, “International film. You’re probably not the target audience. But be a doll and find me a change of clothes, yeah?”
I slam the door in his shocked face and lock it, leaning against the painted wood as the shakes finally possess me. Those men are the first alphas I’ve met besides Ray in this sanity-forsaken dungeon, and after all these years, rescue is finally here.
But they aren’t my alphas.
I swallow through my thickened throat as I turn on the water and step into the shower. It feels so damn good to clean myself, and I tip my head back to fill my mouth, gargling and spitting several times. When I’ve steamed off as much filth and horror as possible and my trembling fades to a barely noticeable quiver, I get out of the shower and wring my hair dry.
“Did you find clothes for me?” I call through the door.
“We have a hospital gown and a jacket.”
I hum under my breath, then shrug. Better than the stinking, wrinkled clothes in the corner. Slowly I unlock the door and reach my arm through. These two men could easily overpower me if they aren’t respectable agents.
“Please hurry, miss,” one begs. “It’s a long walk to the front entrance.” Through the wall, I can hear their subdued comments to each other, saying they can’t believe they found an omega in such a state.
I slick as much water off my skin as I can, and then get dressed, buttoning up the jacket to cover what the flimsy dress doesn’t. It’s male clothing and oversized, but better than nothing.
Then I heave in a deep breath and open the door. “Alright, I’m ready.”
Both men sigh in relief and the second one clicks on his radio. “We’re on our way, Agent Andrews.”
The second looks me up and down. “Can you walk, or would you like me to carry you?”
“Put your hands on me and I’ll break your nose,” I warn, pushing past them. My body stiffens up in case they still try something, but they follow a few steps behind like respectable people.
“I promise we’re here to help, miss. You’re safe now.”
They might mean well, but their reassurances don’t help. My heart rate still races out of control. Ray said he was “helping” too and look how that turned out. But at least I’m getting out of here.
The walk gives me plenty of time to lock away my nervousness. This is what I do best, pretending I wasn’t assaulted and locked in a tiny, windowless room for weeks. I dip my fingertips under the jacket and brush across my collarbone, feeling the row of scars from countless needles. It wasn’t simply a nightmare brought on by endless darkness. Some days it’s hard to know what’s real and what’s a nightmare.
When we reach the main part of the underground facility, my pulse spikes at the sight of arrested bitches everywhere. In cuffs, face down on the floor, and being marched into rooms. I snicker as I lock eyes with Ray, where paramedics treat a wound in his leg while he’s trussed up tighter than a turkey for roasting. So many memories flood through me, I can’t contain it.
But it’s all so clean and sterile. Not a scene that suits a disgusting beast like him.
Ducking away from my guards, I pivot, my foot snapping out across Ray’s face. Chaos erupts as he shouts and falls on top of the medics.
“You’re an animal!” I scream, digging my fingers into the bandage. “How dare you touch me?” Blood soaks through the white patch, and he hollers. Such a satisfying noise. How many times have I screamed under his hands? I press my fingers into his throat. “Just die, you pathetic piece of shit!”
Strong arms haul me backward, kicking and raging, but the minute that scumbag’s out of sight, I grow still.
“You can put me down now,” I say calmly, panting a little. Guess I’m out of shape after confinement, even though I did push-ups and sit-ups every day to keep my muscles toned. Cardio’s a whole different ball game, though.
“Miss, I understand you’re upset, but—”
I whip my head around and glare the agent into silence. “You don’t understand a damn thing, officer. I appreciate the rescue, but if you have any sense left, keep your mouth shut. I’ll behave.”
His dark eyes appraise me, and then he nods and releases me. “I’m sorry. This should never have happened to you.”
Yeah, but it fucking did.
I shake off his wary hands and toss my red hair out of the way. Through the nearby open door, I spot a handbag on an office desk. I step through, pick up the bag with glee, and slot the butterfly clip snugged in an outer pocket over my hair, winding it up into a knot before slipping the purse over my shoulder.
The agent sighs. “I’m sorry, miss, but I can’t allow you to take that. It’s evidence. The Omega Center will supply you with whatever you need.”
I roll my eyes and set it down. “Fine.” But I’m not done. I open the bag and dig through until I find a tube of lipstick and hold the agent’s eye while I apply it liberally and smack my lips together. One corner of his mouth smirks.
Just as deliberately, I make a show of putting the lipstick back, but really it’s just a cover to palm the wallet up my sleeve; I refuse to leave here with absolutely nothing. Then I hook a pair of sunglasses with one finger and drag them out, silently defying the agent to stop me.
He opens his mouth to complain, and I lift my eyebrows. “I’ve been in solitary confinement for months, agent—”
The older man puts out a hand to silence his partner. He shakes his head once in response to a quizzical look the man gives him. “You saw where she’s come from,” he whispers, but it’s loud enough for me to hear. “Let her take whatever she needs.”
I ignore them and slide the sunglasses on top of my head. “Sunlight could damage my eyes badly.”
The agents exchange looks. Then the senior one points me out the door and toward an exit that teems with agents, people in military camouflage, and, to my relief, omegas.
“Eleven!” O-18 squeals, breaking free of the group and running straight at me. “I was so worried about you!”
Bless her teenage heart! She throws herself at me and I hug her tightly, a choking band in my throat loosening. Who knew I had enough humanity left in me to care for these silly, adorable kids?
The wide-eyed male omega peers out from behind the girl squeezing me to death, and I reach around to pat his cheek. I’m glad to see he’s safe too, because the rarer you are, the crueler the world becomes.
I keep hold of O-18’s hand, and nod as my gaze locks with the black-haired O-9. She nods once in reply. We step out into a shadowy tunnel, where a coach pulls up with a whoosh of air suspension. I hesitate as I inspect the dark tinted windows and the omega-blue waves along the gray sides.
The agent who rescued me clears his voice. “I promise you this is a legitimate Omega Center service. They’ll never treat you like that.”
“Thank you, agent,” I murmur, before climbing the steps. The scent of fabric conditioner and pastry hits me in equal measure as I pause just inside. “Hey, Eighteen? Ask them about O-4.”
I wait on the steps as she turns back to ask a solid-looking alpha who has an air of authority.
His answer of “Who do you think sent us?” filters in through the doorway, and I relax. O-4 didn’t forget about us either, and if the OCB knows about her, that means she’s safe. I clench my hand into a victory fist, nearly dislodging the stolen wallet up my sleeve. I smile as I walk further down the aisle.
To call this a bus is an understatement. More like a house on wheels, with staff. And thankfully, it’s not nearly as dark inside as it looks from the outside. The smiling beta women gently direct us into armchairs with seatbelts. “We’re so glad we found you. Does anyone want a blanket?” one asks while holding out a neatly folded woolen throw.
No point refusing the first kindness offered in years, so I take it and tuck the folds around my damp body. “I’m hungry,” I declare, and one of the ladies brings me a warm chocolate croissant. Lucky I’m used to this kind of treatment as a famous actress; otherwise I might break down in tears.
I nod my thanks as O-9 cranes forward in her chair. “What happened to you, Eleven? We were all worried.”
I swipe crumbs off my lips with my thumb, catching a streak of lipstick on my nail. “What did they say?”
She drops her gaze nervously. “That you were having an episode.”
I snort, staring at the flaking pastry. “Sounds about right.” No reason to burden them with my pain. “My alphas are coming for me,” I mutter, before taking another bite, avoiding her gaze so I don’t have to witness the pity there. That line usually shuts most people up, but I forgot the people in this palace masquerading as a bus don’t know me.
The beta who brought me the blanket squats down at eye level. “Do you know who your alphas are, honey? If so, we can contact them for you.”
I blink at her, processing, before tapping my head. “I hear them, in here.”
The look she gets on her face is priceless, but she covers her shock with a professional smile. “Okay, we’ll talk more about it when you’re settled at the Omega Center.”
I smile thinly. “Sounds good.”
Except who’s to say this new omega center will be any better? For the normal omegas, sure, but for someone like me? A shiver runs up my spine, and I burrow deeper into the blanket.
What if I won’t ever have a place to call home?