Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Lucas
My arms are sore and held over my head as my eyes slowly open. Staying silent, I lick my lips, wincing when I find residue on them. Ugh, it tastes like adhesive, my lips are raw, and my face hurts.
Fuck me, who did I manage to piss off?
Looking around the large expanse of what appears to be a warehouse, I find that I’m alone. I’m slumped against a wall, and I can’t quite get my muscles to move. It’s as if they’re still asleep as I hang from chains.
What the hell did that crazy woman give me?
My tongue also feels weird, almost swollen, and my veins fill with worry. Am I allergic?
“I’m coming, keep your pants on,” the slip of a girl mutters, her boots loud as she walks. I bet that she doesn’t have any problems walking quieter, and I wish she would. My head feels as if it’s about to split open like a cantaloupe.
I merely glare at her, hoping that it helps her gauge how unhappy I am at being kidnapped by her. I think my ego is a bit bruised as well.
How the fuck did she get me into the back of the van?
“I’m sure you have questions,” she says, folding her legs underneath herself as she sits on the ground.
“You fink?” I ask, my words garbled.
The van she carted me here in is nowhere to be seen, just giving me more unanswered questions.
She slowly blinks before getting up and picking up a bottle of water. She makes a show of opening it in front of me before she walks over to lift it to my lips.
“Drink,” she orders as if she were an alpha. There’s no way that she is, and she smells…like nothing. Even betas have some sort of scent.
“Why?” I ask, groaning.
“I need to see if you’re allergic to the sedative I gave you or just a big baby alpha,” she says simply.
“Baby, my ass,” I grunt, taking a sip of water. It doesn’t taste funny, but I know better than anyone that she could easily drug me with something without any sensory evidence.
“Yes, you are,” she says. “I’m sure it’s a very nice ass.”
I can’t tell if she’s misunderstanding me on purpose or not, but the water is helping. My tongue slowly feels less swollen, though I still feel sluggish.
“Why?” I ask again, trying to stretch my legs out one at a time. I’m kind of crouched at the moment and my muscles are complaining because they’ve fallen asleep.
As a tall man, this position isn’t the best. I just have to make do though until I can stand.
“I was hired by a mob boss to draw someone out of hiding,” she says, stepping back with the water bottle.
There’s no way that I would be able to hold it with my arms drawn over my head, so I simply wait for more of an explanation.
“He seemed to think that you and Oliver were pack mates for some reason,” she adds.
“I still don’t know who that is,” I reply, finding that it’s easier to speak now that I’ve had some water.
The windows show that the world is darkening, which means that I’ve been out for a while.
“We’ll get to that,” she sighs. Her eyes follow my gaze and she nods. “You’ve been unconscious for longer than I expected. You must be sensitive to sedatives.”
“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never had to be sedated before,” I grunt. “My head really fucking hurts.”
“I can work with that,” she says, reaching for a backpack that I didn’t notice before. Pulling out a bottle, she shows it to me to prove that it’s ibuprofen.
At my nod, she rolls her eyes but shakes out four pills.
“That’s a lot,” I grunt. Pain splits through my brain, and I close my eyes for a moment as I hope it passes.
“You obviously need it. Open up,” she commands.
One eye slits open to show her how unamused I am by her before doing what she said. Her lips twist in worry, but she pops the pain medication into my mouth and lifts the still open water bottle to my lips so I can swallow it down.
“I usually properly research my marks, but failed to do that in this case,” she says.
“Who are you?” I ask, watching as she puts the bottle away and grabs a chair. She’s careful not to drag it along the ground, and I notice the way her muscles flex underneath her skin.
I may have underestimated this wisp of a woman. I need to make sure I don’t do that again. After all, that’s how I ended up half hanging from the damn ceiling.
Glancing up at the suspended chains, I look back at her with my brow raised.
“You’re going to stay there until I figure this out,” she says. “My name is Isolde by the way. If you don’t have a pack, why are you fucking omegas with these alphas in a sex club?”
Pulling out photos, she shows me images that were clearly taken by a security camera. This means that the images are slightly grainy, but there’s no mistaking who the men in the photos are.
Fuck, I should have known this would come back to haunt me. I was as discreet as possible, but it appears that someone may have gotten ahold of footage of the security cameras from that night. It’s the only way they could know about it.
“That’s the first time I met them,” I state. “I don’t know either of their last names, which is why I said I didn’t know Oliver. I haven’t seen them since. I bought attendance to an omega’s heat, but it went very differently than I expected. I didn’t know that Slick Dreams was full of—”
“Trafficked and bought omegas?” Isolde asks, her brow raised. She also looks disappointed in me. If she was wearing heels, I wonder if she’d threaten to shove it up my ass. “I did find that out in my extended research to fix my mistake. I loathe people who use omegas in this way.”
Shifting in my very uncomfortable position, I ignore the way my cock twitches. I shouldn’t be turned on by the thought of her heels traveling anywhere near my asshole. Fuck.
“I had no idea,” I promise. My head is mildly better, but my voice is raspy and deep still, as if it’s still dry. “I helped get two omegas out as soon as I realized.”
“You…you’re a CEO,” she scoffs, as if it’s a dirty word. “What assets do you have for a rescue mission?”
“You’re a hired gun who doesn’t do her research,” I snarl. “Talk about sloppy.”
“Well that’s why you’re currently chained up,” Isolde pouts, sitting back in her chair.
“That’s adorable,” I grunt. I should have agreed to a tracker under my skin when Grant proposed it a year ago.
Goddamnit. “Slick Dreams shouldn’t even exist anymore.
If it does, it’s not for lack of trying.
Bret Harris, the owner, doesn’t treat his omegas well.
No nests, little food, no blankets. Makayla wasn’t even mine and I wanted to burn the world down due to her treatment.
Instead, I choked her handler out so I could help the alphas with me escape with their omegas. ”
“Those alphas aren’t Oliver and Alesso though, correct?”
“Correct,” I mutter.
“There’s not very much information on the other two alphas that attended that heat,” Isolde says.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if their presence was simply removed as if it never existed.
You know some interesting people. You’re not a criminal, yet seem to have dealings with them.
Alesso is a money launderer and Oliver is a hacker on the dark web.
Now that my interest is piqued, you’re stuck with me for a while, I’m afraid. ”
“I beg your pardon?” I growl. “I have people depending on me.”
Granted, I did most of the heavy lifting earlier today, but I would prefer not to be tied up in a fucking warehouse. If I continue being force fed liquids, I’m also going to need to piss.
Not to mention…
My stomach growls and complains loudly, and her lips twitch.
“You don’t look like you’re used to missing a meal,” she muses.
“Are you calling me fat?” I smirk, amused by the very idea. I’m solid muscle, but I also become a shithead when I forget to eat. “You interrupted my meal earlier if you remember.”
“I do.”
Standing, she walks over to a table and picks up a remote. As she pushes a button that lifts my arms higher, I’m forced to stand, groaning.
At least this helps to move the blood in my cramped legs.
“I’ll go get you food,” she says.
“What about you?” I ask, my gaze moving over her frame.
“I suppose I could eat,” she shrugs as if she doesn’t care one way or the other.
Her comment about never missing a meal hits me hard. I wonder how well she’s paid for her job, even though it’s preposterous for me to care. The issue is that I’m hardwired to want the best for people, unless they’re simply a waste of space.
I’m not getting that vibe from Isolde yet.
“So are you still working for the douchebag that contracted you to kill me?” I ask.
I should have led with that.
Isolde puts down the controller only to walk over and run her hands over my body. My lips part as I watch her because it’s almost as if she doesn’t realize that she’s doing it.
“No,” she says. “I don’t like to kill innocent men.”
Her hand continues down until her nails graze over my erection.
“I haven’t decided what I’m going to do with you yet,” she smirks. “This is interesting though.”
“Dicks get hard,” I shrug. Don’t antagonize the pretty beta who’s probably insane, Lucas. Sometimes, my mouth gets me in trouble. It’s been a problem my entire life.
“Maybe. I’ll have to see just how innocent you are, and dirty you up if necessary.”
Her smile speaks of wicked things as her hand drops away and she makes her way to the black SUV in the warehouse.
“What does that mean?” I sputter.
Her hips roll in the leather pants that she’s wearing, making my mouth water for other things.
“Keep it in your pants!” she yells as she gets into the vehicle.
Fuck, Isolde has no issues calling out my thickening cock and scent. That’s just perfect.
Isolde
Flirting with my scent match is kind of fun. I don’t think I’m very good at it, but saying whatever comes to mind is working just fine.
I made sure he ate, walked him in chains to the bathroom, and now I figured out a bed to ensure that he has limited mobility while I’m gone. I removed the chain holding his arms up and added an ankle cuff that’s connected to the wall so he can walk himself to the bathroom while I’m gone tonight.
I even brought him comfortable sweats.
“You’re a very odd kidnapper,” he grumbles, watching me leave for the night. Little does he know that I’m going to the apartment upstairs.
“I don’t usually keep people alive for very long,” I call over my shoulder. He doesn’t say a word, and I wonder if I may have stepped over the line of flirtation.
Shit.
Slipping out of the warehouse, I head upstairs to get to work. I need to do more research, call in a few favors, and get some odds and ends completed.
I get lucky about an hour later while on my computer, and get a message from someone I’m cashing in a favor with.
Unknown:
I have eyes on Alesso in Italy. Here is the link to the camera in his rented apartment, and I also have a man following him. I’m not sure how long his tail will last. Alesso is paranoid as hell.
If it gets him back to the States, then I don’t really care.
Me:
Thank you. I appreciate the assist.
I click on the video, watching as Alesso leaves his apartment.
From what I can see, it’s really nice. Rolling my eyes, I switch to the warehouse video camera.
The second I left the downstairs area, everything went dark.
The camera has night vision, so I gaze at Lucas like a stalker as he struggles to get comfortable enough to sleep.
It was difficult to find a bed last minute for someone as big as he is, and I can see his feet are hanging off the end. I didn’t mean that he was fat when I mentioned his food intake. The man is fit, and his muscles are corded and thick.
Whimpering as I shift my position on the couch, I force myself not to think about his dick.
“Get a grip,” I mutter.
Squeezing my legs together at the first hint of slick, I close my eyes.
I don’t know how to feel about this. I try to keep myself from having any kind of omega-like reaction.
It’s hard to trust my instincts. I haven’t had any of this happen naturally since I was treated like chattel at the auction house.
I’ve been on heat blockers for over two years that are from Lucas’ pharmaceutical company, has the least side effects, and work like a dream.
I’m unsure what to think about this alpha being mine.
Is it possible to move forward with him after all of this if it’s proven that he’s a decent scent match?
Wrinkling my nose, I decide that these feelings must be an effect to weaning myself off my alpha pheromone blockers. I have to say that I’m not a fan, but it’s also not throwing me into an anxiety attack. I’m pretending to be a beta not only for job security, but because it’s safer as well.
The auction trainers enjoyed using my instincts against me.
Every whine, every orgasm, the fake heats, all of it was weaponized to break me.
What’s even more sick is that I want to be an alpha’s good girl, I want to present to someone who deserves me, but I don’t know how I would react if that ever happened.
I hate to use the word “broken” when I worked so hard to keep myself intact. Even when I couldn’t escape into the deep recesses of my mind, I wouldn’t let Ophelia and her disgusting employees break me.
Growling under my breath, I snap my eyes open. I won’t be made a fool of by biology. I need to know what this alpha is made of.
Starting tomorrow.
Is sexual torture a thing? He may be innocent, but I need to know if he can handle my own depravity.
Pulling up a browser, I begin looking for new toys that I can order and have delivered to a locker. Sleep well, Lucas. I have a surprise for you tomorrow.