Chapter 43 Lucy #2
Laughter, manic and staccato, erupted. The sound tried to invade every part of me, pushing through my pores. As the person in my room came into focus, I was surprised. From the psychotic laugh, I’d guessed Nitro or Asher. Not Kane.
Kane, who disappeared whenever he could. Kane, who had—compared to the others—taken it easy on me. Kane, who looked like a wild animal right now, standing in a spiked leather jacket, sandy blonde hair sticking out at all angles, his brown eyes shining intensely.
“Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty,” he greeted me, expression excited, as if he planned to give me the best surprise in the world. I knew better than to trust his smile. His definition of best would likely mean a new kind of torture.
“Go away, Kane,” I croaked, voice still caught in sleep. I rolled over, facing the wall and pulling the scratchy blanket up to my chin. Closing my eyes tightly, I hoped he would give up—which I knew was stupid.
Without warning, the blanket was yanked away. My body reacted, thrashing and nearly toppling the cot over. I tried to sit up but instead found myself gasping as Kane hoisted me into the air and tossed me over his shoulder.
“Put me down!” I shouted, striking his back as hard as I could manage.
He slapped my ass and chuckled, as if my meager blows felt like love taps. “Keep at it. Can’t remember the last time I had a good massage.”
“Dammit, Kane. Put. Me. Down.” My words sounded about as fierce as a stray cat’s mewling.
I felt the warm rush of blood to my cheeks as he continued to chuckle, the sound vibrating against my stomach.
All my life, I’d just wanted to survive.
Now, I wanted to survive and be a force these Alphas couldn’t reckon with.
I wanted muscles. I wanted the ability to hurt them.
I wanted to pay them back for all the bullshit treatment.
Yet, I couldn’t even free myself from Kane’s grip.
Squirming and kicking, I screamed in frustration. “This isn’t funny!”
“It’s a little funny,” he shrugged easily, my weight popping up and down against his shoulder.
“You’re as bad as the rest of them,” I breathed out, realizing that Kane was never going to be my lifeline.
“We didn’t become a pack by being polar opposites.” This time, he pinched my right ass check brutally, making me gasp. That was going to leave a bruise.
The rough fabric of his jacket rubbed against my bare legs.
That’s when I realized I was only wearing the mesh basketball shorts and stained band shirt—some group called Oblivion Haze that I’d never heard of.
I hit Kate again, balling my hand into a fist and striking his spine.
Triumph flooded me when he let out a very, very quiet grunt of surprise.
But he didn’t stop striding through the house and toward the front door.
It was chilly outside, making my skin pebble.
“Kane, I don’t even have shoes on. Please just put me down.” I tried to reason with him, knowing even as I said the words it was a futile effort.
“Don’t need shoes where we’re going.” He opened the front door and strode outside, still carrying me like a sack of potatoes.
“We’re outside, and it’s cold. I at least need a jacket,” I pushed.
He ignored me, beelining for a waiting truck with the passenger door open. He tossed me inside devil-may-care. I scrambled to straighten and sit up, intending to make a last-ditch effort to get proper clothing. Kane spoke first.
“I think we’re overdue for some fun, Lucy.” He reached for the belt buckle and pulled it across me.
“Fun?” I scoffed, glaring at him as he leaned across me to click the buckle. “You think this is fun? Kidnapping me and tossing me around like a rag doll?”
“I think it’s the very definition of fun.” He pulled back, halting so our faces were inches apart.
I was tired and angry, but the proximity to him still made my toes curl.
Kane, just like the other Alphas, smelled unique.
Car leather after it’s been oiled. Pine needles in snow.
The freshness of soap hovering just above motor oil.
Without meaning to, I closed my eyes and breathed him in.
My inner Omega unfurled, scent perfuming the air.
My emotions made it shift and change—with frustration, exhaustion, anger—but desire was still the heart note.
When I opened my eyes, Kane had moved close enough that his lips nearly brushed mine. His face looked uncertain. I flinched when he ducked his head lower, pressing his nose gently against the crook of my neck. He inhaled. And, before I could react, he planted a light kiss.
I pushed him away, holding him at arm’s length. He let me do it, pressing his back into the dash behind him. Still, that look of confusion remained.
We stayed frozen like that for several moments.
Then I cleared my throat and broke the spell. “Where are we going?”
His gaze stayed steady at first. Then, as if coming up for air after a deep-sea dive, he took a life-affirming breath.
“Otto’s,” was all he said before pulling himself out of the truck, closing the door, and walking around to the driver’s seat.
When Kane slid into the driver’s seat, his earlier mania had faded, replaced by stoicism.
The truck rumbled loudly when he cranked the engine, and the gravel crunched beneath the tires as he pulled away from the house and towards the gates.
Soon, the less populated area where DemonX’s compound was transitioned into the jarring neon of downtown.
Though I was nervous, and had no idea what an Otto’s was, I found myself fascinated by Las Vegas.
I felt disappointed when the flickering neon became moonlit desert highway.
During the drive, I visualized all manner of very good, and very bad, destinations.
When he finally turned into a salvage yard, I felt my heart sink.
Why would he bring me here? To a car graveyard with crushers and endless empty trunks perfect for…
hiding a body. My pulse quickened, and I gripped the edge of the seat.
Before I knew it, we were parked and Kane was at the passenger door, pulling it open.
“It’s dark, Kane. I don’t want to go in there. Can’t we do this during the day?” I bit my lower lip, worry flushing through me.
“Night’s the best time to look,” he countered, lifting his left hand into view. He held two of head lamps.
“Look for what?” The perfect car to hide my body in?
“A steering wheel.” He grinned, taking one of the lights and strapping it onto me, the light centered on my forehead. He stood up and moved to the side, then reached in and flicked on the lamp. A brilliant beam tunneled through the night.
Even with the brightness fighting shadows, I didn’t move.
“Let’s go, night’s a-waste’n.” Kane was almost bouncing with trapped energy.
I hadn’t been around him much since arriving, but his behavior didn’t seem in character. I didn’t know what he would do with this mania, and I didn’t want to find out. What if he pulled an Asher and… tried to turn me to ash?
I swung my legs out, deciding the salvage yard was better than pissing off a nutso Alpha. Sitting sideways on the seat, I peered around for a moment. I really did not want to go in there. It looked so freaking creepy.
The ground was a sea of sharp gravel. The junkyard would probably be worse terrain. And Kane didn’t care if I got hurt.
My bare feet dangled out of the truck, looking ghostly. Frowning down at them, I steeled myself for what was going to be, undoubtedly, a painful walk. But when I finally went to slip off the seat, Kane’s hands shot up, fingers wrapping around my waist and pushing me back.
“Wait a minute,” he said, voice barely pitched above a whisper. He sounded like he was going to do something he shouldn’t. I stiffened, waiting for some new degradation.
He darted to the bed of the truck, pulling down the tailgate. I heard scuffing and scraping, then the tailgate slamming back into place. When he came back into view, he held a giant pair of filthy boots. I think, once upon a time, they were black. Now they were a dusty, faded grey.
“They’re huge,” I said without thinking, accidentally glancing up at the perfect angle for the headlamp to shine in Kane’s eyes. He raised the boots, covering his face until I lowered my head.
“You’re more than welcome to walk barefoot around broken windshields and busted metal.” He offered sarcastically, blinking back residual brightness, as if he wasn’t the reason why I was out here without shoes to begin with.
“Thank you. I appreciate them,” I spoke in a rush, grabbing the boots before he could change his mind and take them away.
“Could have let your feet get tore up. And you complain about the size,” Kane grumbled, turning away from me to face the junkyard. He switched on his own headlamp, adjusting the fit before crossing his arms and waiting.
I made quick work of slipping into the oversized shoes.
They were gritty on the inside, as if they’d never gotten clean after a beach trip.
I laced them as tightly as I could and lowered myself to the ground.
The shoes flopped around my too-small feet.
I wasn’t sure if, in the end, the blisters I’d probably get from wearing them would be better than bloody soles from glass shards.
But Kane was already striding away from me, and I didn’t want to stay alone by the truck. In the dark. Next to a parts cemetery. With a strange man staring at us from a dimly lit trailer.
I moved after him awkwardly, trying to keep my feet inside the boots.
My eyes locked on Kane’s large back.
I really thought you might be different. I hate being wrong.
I hate that I didn’t listen to Doctor Swann.