“If there’s anything else you need, there’s a phone right there.” She points to the bedside table. “It doesn’t take any incoming or outgoing calls, just to the front desk we passed on the way in.”
Wait, that thing had someone sitting at it?I didn’t even notice. This place is like a luxury apartment had a baby with a high-end hotel.
Licking my lips, I try to take it all in, but I feel dizzy. It’s too much. I’m getting overwhelmed. I’m not sure how to process all of this. It’s like the adrenaline I’ve been feeling since I was pulled out of my cell is starting to come to a stop, and I’m about to suffer the crash.
“Are you okay?” she asks. It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask her to stop asking me that, but instead, I throw myself at her, wrapping my arms around her neck.
I’m not sure if this is going to get me stabbed or not. She’s a taken Alpha, and even I know touching someone else’s mate is a big no-no.
It’s just everything she’s done for me, saving me, giving me a place to stay, helping me, it’s all more than I could have ever asked for. I don’t know how to repay her. To thank her.
“Thank you.” I choke back tears. It’s been two weeks since I’ve cried. After two full days of losing my mind every second of both days, I shut down and wiped my eyes, turning the sorrow into rage and channeled it into the motivation I needed to keep going.
She wraps her arms around me, and I have to hold back a sob that wants to slip free.When was the last time someone touched me like this?
I never realized how touch-starved I’ve been. I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want her to leave me with my thoughts.
I’ve already been alone for so long.
Still, I manage to pull myself away from her, not wanting to be disrespectful towards Lucy when it comes to her mate. She’s also a stranger.
“You’re more than welcome, Savvy. You don’t have to thank me, though. This is something I live to do.”
“Question,” I say, throwing her a curveball and going way off topic. “Are you in the mafia?” I’ve watched movies that had mafias. What she described sounds a lot like the things they did, only they didn’t care who they killed. Duchess does.
She gives me a smirk. “Goodnight, Savvy,” she says with a wink before turning around and walking towards the door.
“I knew it!” I shout back. “So fucking cool.”
She laughs before opening the door and closing it behind her.
I rush over to it, flicking the lock.
Turning back around, I lean back against the door and take a look around again.
There’s a queen-size bed against the right side of the room, and a TV on the opposite wall. Below the TV is a dresser, and to the side of that is a mini fridge.
A wave of dizziness takes over me.Fuck, I’m still in my wet clothes.Walking over to the dresser, I pull a few drawers open.
It’s stocked with bras, underwear, sleepwear, jeans, sweat pants, leggings, shorts, short and long sleeve shirts, and crop tops.
“Holy fucking shit balls,” I breathe. There are too many options.
Playing it safe, I grab a pair of cute blue panties, a pair of fuzzy socks, a long sleeve sleep top, and matching bottoms. Both just as fuzzy as the socks.
With my change of clothes in hand, I head towards the door Duchess said was the bathroom.
Flicking on the lights, I nearly have a heart attack.
Yup. A dream. This is a sick, cruel dream. Cruel because I don’t want to wake up from it.
I’m used to cold, damp cement showers stalls with no shower curtain. Something you would expect from a prison, despite the fact that the rest of the building had a net worth that was probably in the millions, if not billions.
This bathroom is nothing like that. It’s white marble like the rest of the house, with splashes of black and gold.
Dropping my clean clothes onto the sink’s counter, I start to rid myself of the dirty ones I am wearing, tossing them into a wet heap on the floor.
Fully naked, I walk around the bathroom, checking everything out, knowing not a single person can see me right now.