14. Snare
Snare
Kelya
Omegas don’t break people’s noses.
But that asshole deserved it.
I was so fucking worked up, and he would not cave. Did he even notice how hard I was working to make him fall in love with me? Come on, Cypress, take me to bed and forget all about your fucking job.
Then I can leave you in the middle of the night.
That’s the fucking script. Play! Along!
I jumped the gun with the kiss, but changed my mind as soon as I realized how much I wanted it. That can’t happen.
There must be something wrong with him.
I was rubbing my body against him like a cat in heat. It was EMBARRASSING how much I was fawning over him.
Actually, what was embarrassing was how much my inner omega loved it. She wanted me to shut up and just dance. She wanted me to agree to everything he was saying. She wanted me to keep kissing him. She’s a trifling little thing.
I haven’t been able to stop thinking about his strong fingers against my pussy with the descenting gel. Or his nose running over my neck while he moaned gently. His body over mine in the small space…
I shake my head and shoulders, ridding the memory away.
I go back to the hotel to get my things. I’m not making a run for it without all those meds I kept for myself. Boats are out. Planes are out. So how else does one get off an island?
They don’t.
San Juan is densely populated. I’m going to go into the city and rent a room until my stalker moves on.
I’ll get a new phone. I’ve picked out a new name—Antonia.
As I pass the lobby desk, I nod at Rodrigo and head down the hall.
The smell of cypress is strong. He must have been by my door, but when I reach it, I don’t smell him as much.
I back up and follow my nose to the door next to mine where the scent is strong.
He’s been staying next door.
That fucking asshole.
I try the door. It’s locked. I consider asking the front desk for a key, and then remember I can see my neighbors’ outdoor spaces from mine. I rush into my room, go out to my balcony, and with my adrenaline high, I hop over to Tony’s balcony. His door is open. That idiot.
I walk into the room and stop short. It’s big, like mine. Three laptops sit on a desk, along with a modem and several hard drives. I just stare at them.
Is he a government spy?
This is some serious shit. There are bags of equipment, but like me, only one small backpack of clothes. On a round table, he has drinks and snacks. I absentmindedly pick up and open a package of yogurt-covered raisins and pop them into my mouth. I sit on his bed and stare at the equipment.
I knew he had the signal dampener, but this is more than I’d imagined.
He’s not just following me. He’s monitoring me.
I don’t understand.
My eyes scan the room, and I see a small brown leather bag on the dresser. It’s open, and I can make out the cords he used to tie me up. They hadn’t chafed. They were smooth even when tied tightly. The ones he used on the boat were confiscated, but it looks like he’s got more.
That sends a thrill through me. There’s also hemp rope. That can’t be for tying people up, can it?
Who is this man the Livingstons sent after me? Those are the real assholes. They sent this spy-level Dick Tracy after me. Dick Tony. Of course they would. I wonder how much I’m worth. Probably a pizza and a pat on the back.
My mind conjures up the ill-fated images of Roman, Hollis, and Noble, the three alphas who used to have me.
Roman is the pack lead. Bald with a handsome face, he’s tall as a building. I wonder if he is scarred from when I bit his nose. I spat the tip of it out. I remember it bouncing off the wall.
Omegas should not be biting off their alpha’s noses.
I scratched Noble’s arms up and had to scrub the skin and blood out of my broken fingernails.
No, I didn’t touch Hollis.
But I wish I’d gotten a hold of him. I wish I…
My heart is racing too fast. My hands are tingly.
I’m fucking panicking. I can’t think about this.
My inner omega takes over, since I’m fucking losing it.
She takes a small bottle of tequila off the table, puts five sleeping tablets inside, and shakes it up.
She sets it next to a clean glass on the edge of the table.
Ok. Whatever. Go, girl.
I hear the familiar ping of someone using their keycard on the lock of the door. I jump into the bathroom and hide behind the open door.
Tony walks in and locks the door behind him.
I’m waiting for him to see things moved around or my snack wrapper discarded on the floor.
I even left the balcony door open, but he seems like he doesn’t notice.
He comes into the bathroom to wash the blood off his face.
Maybe the bathroom was a fucking terrible place to hide.
I’m behind the door against the wall, and I stand perfectly still, keeping my breathing fucking slow.
He laughs at his reflection as he inspects his nose. I wish I could see it, but I don’t want to risk moving.
“Good shot. Damn.”
He pulls his shirt off and rinses it under the running water. He leaves it soaking, goes out to the room, and pours himself a glass of tequila. The plan is working. Take the drugs. Fall asleep. It’ll give me hours to make myself scarce.
Suddenly, I hear the sound of his belt and pants hitting the floor, but I can’t see him anymore, only the bag of ropes sitting on the table.
My inner omega rears her head and plants a crazy idea in mine.
He wanted to tie me up and drag me out of here? Not if I tie him up first. See how he likes it.
It doesn’t take long. He plops down in a chair, and I hear him sipping from a glass. He’s thinking. Heavily. I can tell because he’s sighing heavily. The smell of cigarillo smoke makes it to the bathroom.
Did I hurt him that bad?
Eventually, his sighs turn into soft snores. The sleeping pills have done their job.
I step into the main room and see him where I’d imagined, slumped in the fancy chair. I take the cigarette from his fingers and finish the last drag, then ash it on a tray on the table.
He looks uncomfortable.
But at least he’s asleep.
I step over to his leather bag with the cords inside. I pull them out and feel them against my palms. A shiver runs up and down my arms and fingers.
Then I get to work.