Chapter 11
CHAPTER 11
KAYLA
A s I walk through the massive mansion, every echo of my footsteps screams, “Imposter!” Seriously, this place is fancier than a five-star restaurant on a billionaire’s yacht, from what I’ve seen on TV, anyway.
Spiral staircases wind upward, dripping with wealth I couldn’t even imagine in my wildest dreams back home. With every ornate tapestry, every gleaming chandelier that dangles from the high ceilings, I’m reminded of how far from home I really am—a world away from the cramped two-bedroom I share with my mom and stepdad.
“Damn,” I murmur, fingertips brushing over a dark mahogany banister, cool and smooth under my touch. Bet no one here would have to share a bathroom with a creep who huffs beer like it’s air. Gary’s sweaty form pops into my mind, and I gag a little.
I peek into several cavernous bedrooms, easily two or three times bigger than my bedroom. The sleek modern furniture and decor seem to say in a snobby voice, “You can’t afford a crumb of this.” Hell, I probably couldn’t afford to buy one of the doorknobs without going broke. Wishing like hell I could is a longing in my chest—wanting the fairy tale the mansion promises. Yet, I can’t shake the feeling of being a caged animal on display, all dolled up but still feral underneath.
“Get it together, Kayla,” I scold myself, rubbing my arms for comfort. “You’re not here to play princess.” Inhaling sharply, I force my feet forward, each step an act of rebellion against the seductive pull of comfort this place dangles before me.
Survival… that should be my only desire. Not the lingering warmth of an Alpha’s hug or the treacherous fantasies of a life ensnared in silken sheets.
“Survive first. Dream later,” I remind myself, though my voice feels hollow.
This fancy-pants mansion is suffocating, like a gold-plated cage imprisoning me.
“Mom.” The word catches in my throat. She has to be freaking out by now and probably staring at the cracked screen of her phone, waiting for a call that never comes.
God, she must be frantic. The thought alone sends a jolt of urgency zipping through my veins like electricity.
Ugh, gotta find a phone. Gotta let her know that I’m not hurt.
I creep through rooms dripping with velvet curtains and shelves overflowing with books I really want to crack open and lose myself in.
But a phone? Nada.
Just the cold hum of technology locked behind password screens. Several laptops lay scattered across mahogany desks, their sleek surfaces reflecting my frustrated scowl. After trying a few random guesses and getting the error messages on the laptops, I sigh heavily. They’re like everything else here—pretty to look at but completely useless.
With a frustrated huff, I make my way to the kitchen, banking that Dane might be there. He owes me one, right? The least he could do is lend me a phone.
“Hello?” My voice bounces around the huge kitchen.
Nothing. Zip. Zilch.
Leaning against the counter, the cold granite sucking the heat from my hands, panic starts to gnaw at my insides. I can’t stay here, not while Mom’s probably picturing my face plastered on every news channel, sandwiched between reports of war and the stock market crash.
“Think, Kayla,” I urge myself. The mansion feels like a fortress now, its walls closing in, trapping me in luxury while my instincts scream for escape. Liam .
I skitter back to the laundry room, my boots squeaking against the polished floors, but the room is empty, too.
Where is everyone?
As I weave through hallways, each turn is a gamble, each step a prayer to find something, anything that could be my lifeline to the outside world.
I stumble upon a huge bathroom and not just any bathroom. This one’s fit for royalty with its marble tiles, which I swear have real gold threaded through the veins, and gilded mirrors. It’s so over the top, it almost hurts to look at.
Water cascades somewhere inside, a call that draws me forward.
Smart Kayla says turn around, find another way, but desperate Kayla? She’s got a one-track mind laser-focused right now.
Taking a deep breath, I blurt out, “Hello?” My voice cracks even though I’m trying to sound all tough. I inch closer since the shower probably drowned out my words. Whoever is in the shower might have their cell with their clothes. I can grab it and leave without them even knowing I was there.
I edge closer, the steam whispering across my skin. I’m practically at the edge of the frosted glass door now, the sound of the shower loud and clear with a pile of clothes in the corner just on the other side of the shower from me.
As I reach out to search the clothes next to the shower, Liam’s body is partially visible, and I freeze, unable to look away. They must have anti-fog glass or something for me to see this much.
Water sluices over his muscular form, droplets tracing the lines of his body and are way sexier than any spicy romance novel I’ve read. His head is thrown back, hands working with a fervor that speaks of urgent need.
His taut muscles flex under the hot stream, and the sight turns my insides molten.
He’s lost in his pleasure as his hands work diligently across his sculpted chest and down toward the V that draws me to gawk at his huge cock that’s erect and pointing straight at me.
Liam claps his erection in his hand, stroking the length of it back and forth, and I can’t look away.
A rolling moan rumbles from deep within him, vibrating inside me.
The sight of him is making my whole body tingle.
Liam’s eyes remain closed, oblivious to me staring. Then a moan of such longing that the sound of it echoes in the hollow of my chest.
“Kayla,” he gasps out. My name is on his lips, wrapped in a shudder that sends shockwaves straight to my core.
I stumble back, panic shoving all the air out of my lungs.
Then I notice he’s not looking at me. His eyes are still closed, so he’s thinking of me while he’s jerking off.
Gotta get the hell out of here… now, before he opens his eyes and catches me staring like a creep .
I spin around and bolt out of the bathroom.
Outside, I lean against the wall, my heart in my throat, my body thumping with arousal.
He said my name… he’s fantasizing it’s me in there with him.
I swallow hard and know I should leave, but I can’t get my legs to move
I must be losing my mind because all I can think about is being in the shower with him. Making him moan and saying my name again. His hands, his lips on me. It’s insane—this pull toward him, this craving for lips I’ve never kissed. It can’t be my heat, not now. Not yet. It’s still way too early.
Pushing off the wall, I walk away quickly and keep glancing back in case he saw me and sticks his head out of the bathroom. I take another turn on another corridor corner and frown. Where the hell am I? Am I lost? I keep heading ahead until I reach the end of a hallway that swings left sharply. I take a shaky breath, the cool air a pinprick against my flushed skin.
A heavy door catches my eye. A faint whiff of motor oil tinges the air behind it, reminding me so much of my dad before he died that my heart squeezes. He used to work on cars, tinkering. It was his passion until he got sick, and chemo took his strength.
With a cautious push, I crack the door open a sliver.
Bingo!
A sprawling garage bathed in the dim glow of fluorescent lights. Motorcycles gleam under the harsh light, surrounded by enough luxury cars to make a car dealership jealous.
“Wow,” I breathe out, the word slicing through the silence like a knife.
Every Saturday morning, we spent hours in his garage, the air thick with the rhythmic whir of drills and the clangs of wrenches. He patiently explained the intricate workings of an engine, his calloused hands guiding mine as I tightened a bolt or wiped down an oily rag. His laughter would fill the space, chasing away the worries of my world.
A hollow ache in my chest burns. The memory of his gaunt figure, ravaged by chemo, flashes in my mind. The once vibrant blue of his eyes dulled by pain, his smile strained as he tried to hide his weakness from me. The last time we worked on his 1970 stingray, the wrench clattered to the floor as his strength gave way.
Tears prick my eyes, blurring the image before me. The gleam of motorcycles, the sleek lines of luxury cars—none of it matters. All I see is the faded oil-stained toolbox pushed against the wall, the one Dad wouldn’t let anyone touch but me and him. Dad would’ve loved a shop like this. A sob catches in my throat.
“Dad,” I whisper, the word a choked plea echoing in the cavernous garage. The silence that answers feels deafening, a cruel reminder of the empty space he left behind. A space that not even all the money in the world, not even this opulent mansion, can ever fill.
“Kayla, food’s here,” Liam’s voice from somewhere in the mansion draws me back out of the garage’s threshold. Scrubbing a hand over my eyes, I close the door and retrace my steps to the kitchen.
The sharp scent of spices and soy sauce hits me the moment I turn the corner toward the kitchen. By some miracle, I didn’t get lost again.
Mounds of Chinese takeout boxes are crammed onto the solid, dark oak table, and the smell of their contents calls to my neglected stomach. Liam and Dane are both at the table. Liam’s blond hair is still damp from his shower, and my mouth dries. Did he know I was there? That I saw him naked, him pleasuring himself and?—
“Kayla,” Liam says, chopsticks dancing between his fingers with the kind of ease that’s borderline obnoxious. He’s demolishing a carton of Lo Mein with a focus that says, ‘This is serious business.’ “You gonna just stand there or come dig in?”
I walk toward them and pull up a chair between Liam and Dane.
“Yeah, there’s plenty. Help yourself.” Dane’s muscles flex under his tee as he scoops out noodles onto a plate, not spilling a single strand. I guess he has a knack for precision, something I figure comes in handy when you’re an ex-army medic patching up wounds under fire.
“Decisions, decisions,” I mutter to myself, surveying the culinary buffet before me. My stomach growls, a low rumble that probably registers on the Richter scale.
Liam glances up, a smirk playing on his lips. “Hungry much?” His tone is teasing, but there’s a warmth there that tugs at the corners of my mouth.
“Starving,” I admit, not bothering to hide my desperation. If I don’t eat something, I might shove both of these Alphas out of the way. Everything smells amazing.
“The spicy honey chicken’s killer, but there’s also sweet-n-sour, pepper steak…” Liam adds. “You name it.”
“Spicy honey chicken sounds amazing,” I say, reaching for the carton. There’s something about that combination of heat and sweetness that gets me every time. I dump out a portion to try.
“Good choice,” Dane approves with a nod, his eyes lingering on mine for a heartbeat too long. The air seems charged with something, but I’m not sure what.
“Better be,” I quip, trying to shake off the intensity of the moment. “Or I’ll hold you personally responsible.” I flash them a smile as I add fried rice, edamame, and some pepper steak to my plate.
“Hey, I’m just the guy with the healing bullet wound,” Dane shoots back, the corner of his mouth twitching. “All complaints go to Chef Takeout over there.”
“Chef Takeout has excellent taste.” I grab a pair of chopsticks and open the package. My chopsticks hover over the spicy honey chicken, and I’m salivating before the first bite even hits my tongue. Then I dig in, a moan spilling past my throat at how delicious it is.
“Good, right?” Liam’s voice cuts through the fog of hunger that’s wrapped around my brain.
I nod, mouth too full to answer, but there’s a hum in my chest that feels like agreement. The tangy kick of the sauce, the tender bite of the chicken—hell, this might be the best thing I’ve eaten in months.
“Where’s Ryker?” I ask, nodding to the food. “Won’t this get cold?” Or is he even now arranging for Nexus to pick me up? I can’t dwell on that. I spear another piece of chicken, the fire of it spreading through me, reminding me that I’m here, now, and whatever comes next... well, I’ll burn that bridge when I get to it.
“He’s on his way. Had to take care of some business is my guess.” Dane wraps noodles around his chopsticks like he’s eating spaghetti and not Chinese food.
“If he doesn’t hurry up, can’t promise there’ll be anything left.” Liam grins at me, and a flutter hits my insides.
I feel like I haven’t eaten in days, so I’m not going to stop until I am full. Besides, if I have to leave to escape Nexus, it’ll probably be better to have a full stomach. I make a mental note to raid the pantry later to see what provisions they have that I can take with me.
Ryker strides in, his footsteps heavy, his brow furrowing. I freeze mid-bite, a tangle of noodles dangling from my chopsticks. He zeros in on the decimated spread of Chinese takeout and picks up the nearly empty container of spicy honey chicken.
“Who went to town on my chicken?”
Tension tightens the air, thick as the rich sauce clinging to my lips. Dane’s eyes flick to me, then away, a silent pact keeping my secret safe. Liam leans back in his chair, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth, but he doesn’t give me away, either.
“It was delicious.” I smirk, unable to help myself. “Shame you missed out.” I pop the last of the chicken from my plate into my mouth.
Ryker sits down heavily in the chair, scraping out the bottom of the spicy honey chicken container with an egg roll. He narrows his eyes at me as he scrapes the last bits of sauce from the container.
“You have a healthy appetite for an Omega.” He pops the egg roll into his mouth and chews slowly, watching me.
“What can I say?” I feel my cheeks flush under his intense gaze but force myself to hold it. “A girl’s gotta eat.”
“I’ll give you that,” he grunts, sweeping his eyes over me in an appraising way. “Just don’t make a habit of finishing off my food.” His voice is gruff, but there’s the barest hint of amusement lurking there.
I lean back. “Well, maybe if you got here quicker, I wouldn’t have had to.”
The corners of Ryker’s mouth twitch up in an almost-smile before he smothers it.
“Lucky for you, I’m feeling generous today, Omega.” He pulls his chair up to the table with a screech. “Don’t get used to it.”
My insides are doing somersaults, and I push away from the table.
“You haven’t had your fortune cookie,” Liam holds out his hand, and there’s a wrapped one waiting for me. “That’s the finishing touch on the meal. Come on.”
When Ryker doesn’t say anything, I sit back down and accept Liam’s offer.
Dane looks over at my unopened fortune cookie. “Ladies first.” He nods toward me with a grin.
I feel my cheeks warming but I crack open the plastic wrapper and then the cookie. The little paper has a simple phrase written on it.
“What’d you get?” Liam asks eagerly.
“Courage is the first step,” I read out, glancing up to see Ryker watching me intently as he finishes his egg roll and pulls another onto his plate along with some edamame and Lo Mein.
Liam opens his cookie with a snap. “Here’s hoping for something good.” He pulls out the slip of paper and reads, “Your dearest wish will come true.” He arches an eyebrow at me and grins. “I like the sound of that.”
I roll my eyes but smile, trying to push aside the fluttering in my stomach. Dane opens his fortune cookie next.
“A faithful friend is a strong defense,” he reads with a shrug. “Not bad, I guess.”
“Alright, it’s your turn, Ryker.” Liam pushes the last fortune cookie toward him.
“I’m not done eating.” He frowns.
“Okay, slowpoke.” Liam leans back, opening one of the edamame pods and popping the peas inside into his mouth.
“Fine.” Ryker crunches into his fortune cookie last, crumbs speckling his shirt. He doesn’t bother brushing them away as he pulls out the tiny strip of paper and snorts.
“Let’s hear it, grumpy,” Dane prods.
Ryker’s eyes flick to me again, holding my gaze as he rumbles, “The one you love is closer than you think.”
The weight of his stare makes me feel warm all over. Does he think... No, surely not. I tear my eyes away, my heart hammering in my chest.
Liam lets out a low whistle. “Looks like the fates are smiling on someone tonight.”
Ryker just grunts and crumples the fortune in his fist. “Like I’d put any stock in these stupid things.”
“Hey, man, you missed all the fun earlier. Our little Omega got the bullet out of Dane all by herself.”
Ryker’s gaze lingers on me for a beat before he stands up and pulls a beer out of the fridge. “That so?”
“She did a great job stitching me up afterward, too.” Dane grins, and my whole face heats.
Not saying anything at first, Ryker chugs his beer, eyeing me over the rim of the can. He sets it down with a thunk.
“You know she can’t stay, and she’s not our Omega.”
An uncomfortable silence falls over the table. Liam shifts in his seat.
“Come on, man. Give her a chance, at least.”
“This isn’t about chances,” Ryker growls, his jaw clenching. “We were supposed to deliver an Omega, that’s it. We blow this, and it’s not just the money we lose. It’s our reputation. Who’ll hire us if word gets out we couldn’t handle a simple retrieval?”
“And you’re just going to ignore what my gut is saying?” Liam shakes his head. “She’s our Omega. I know you feel that.”
“She’s trouble.” Ryker’s jaw tightens. “We should hand her over to Nexus and be done with it.”
My stomach drops sickeningly at his words. So much for his intense look during the fortune cookies meaning anything.
“Like hell,” Dane snaps. “After what they did to her? We’re not letting those bastards anywhere near Kayla.”
“I don’t think it was Nexus who shot at us.” Ryker takes another gulp of his beer. “They weren’t afraid to take us out to get her.”
My hands twist into my lap at his words.
Dane’s eyes narrow. “Alphas then? Looking for a new… possession?”
“Or worse.” Ryker throws back his head and downs the rest of his beer. “The black market for Omegas is a whole other level of brutal. They wouldn’t hesitate to kill us all just to get their hands on her.”
Liam sets his jaw stubbornly. “We can protect her.”
“By getting ourselves killed?” Ryker shakes his head. “This isn’t our fight.”
“It is because she’s our Omega,” Liam says.
The muscle in Ryker’s jaw ticks, and he grabs another beer from the fridge. After he opens the bottle and takes a super-long drawl, he lowers it and gestures to Dane. “And what do you think, too?”
Dane looks between Ryker and Liam before his gaze lands on me.
“I think... Kayla proved herself today. She was brave and didn’t hesitate to help me.” He rubs the bandage on his chest. “She could have run, but she stayed.”
“And what about the Omega part? Liam’s claim?”
“I’m leaning toward what Liam says. There’s something about her.” Dane offers me a small smile before focusing on Ryker again.
My heart clenches at his words, grateful to have him and Liam in my corner.
“She’s one of us now, whether you accept it or not. And you know what’ll happen if we hand her over to Nexus.” Dane’s expression hardens. “I’m not okay with that.”
Ryker drains the last of his beer, the tendons stretched taut in his neck. “This is gonna come back to bite us in the ass,” he growls.