Page 12 of No Escape

The new guy undoes my cuffs and drags me from the room with a hand around my wrist. We make it into the hallway, and he continues to guide me through a mass of corridors. At least he’s not violent like the first man, but his strides are long, and I’m still weak.

“I don’t know what’s going on, but please let me give you the phone number to call about ransom,” I say, keeping my voice low. “They’ll want to keep it out of the press. You can be rich beyond your wildest dreams if you just listen to me.”

The man stops dead in his tracks and sighs. At first, I think he’s actually going to listen to me, but he nods at a door a few feet away. “Go on in. The doctor is waiting for you.”

“I’m American. I was kidnapped from outside the hotel I was staying at in Amsterdam. My father is a senator. Please?—”

“I can’t help you. The best thing you can do is go in there and be polite.” His jaw clenches, and he shakes his head.

All of the things I was taught to do during a kidnapping don’t seem to apply here. None of them are wearing masks, which means they never expect me to make it back to my old life. If I did, I could identify them.

Leo used to tell me that if I was taken, and I saw one of the kidnappers without a mask, to never let them know I’d seen them. To keep my gaze averted and to even close my eyes if need be. This situation is nothing like what I was prepped for, and I think this is actually more dangerous than if they had kidnapped me for money.

“I don’t know what’s happening,” I say, trying to catch his eyes. Maybe if I can humanize myself, he’ll feel compelled to help. “Please, you can verify my story. Do a quick internet search of Saylor Callahan. My father is Senator Logan Callahan, and he will pay you.”

I feel like a broken record, but the goal is to keep trying until I can find someone to tempt with a massive payday.

“Head in that room. The doctor is waiting.” He opens the door and nods for me to go inside.

I woke up on an exam table.

Didn’t I already see a doctor?

The man grabs my arm and shoves me into the room.

A woman with a brown bob stands next to another exam table, but she’s the first female I’ve seen, and that instantly makes her seem like less of a risk.

She gives a tight smile, nodding to the bed. “Have a seat,” she says in a thick accent that I can’t place.

My stomach flip-flops.

She works here.

Man or woman, it doesn’t matter.

She’s not on my side.

I still don’t have the first idea what’s happening, and my brain can’t come up with any scenarios that make sense.

I dart a look at the door, but the man crosses his arms, making it clear I won’t be able to get past him.

Every cell in my body screams to run, but logic tells me I won’t be able to get away. If I piss them off, they could turn violent like the man in the interrogation room.

My head throbs, and my entire body aches. “I need a bathroom.”

“Don’t worry about that,” the woman in the lab coat says. “Get on the table.”

Mentally weighing my chances of being able to make it past the man versus only making them angrier leads me to follow her instruction.

My feet hang over the edge of the bed, and I flex my toes. I’ve been cold for so long, it feels like all my appendages are numb. Or it could be remnants of whatever drugs they gave me.

“Have you heard the term rabid before?” the woman asks.

My shoulders bounce. “I’ve heard it jokingly to describe alphas who are feral.”

“It’s not a joke,” she says, digging in the drawers behind her. “Feral alphas who are in close proximity to omega pheromones regain cognitive awareness fairly quickly. When an alpha ignores their biological needs for long enough, they pass feral and enter rabid territory. This is marked by a significant decline in mental clarity. They exhibit hyper aggression, have violent outbursts, and as it progresses, they fail to recognize even those closest to them.”

Every word she says seems to make my blood pump faster through my veins as fear floods my system. As an omega, my flight-or-fight response is always firmly geared toward flight, and I struggle to keep my ass planted on the exam table.

---