Page 15 of No Escape

“Please?” I beg, studying his face for any signs of humanity.

“Valor.” He sighs. “He’s here for the right reasons, even if he had the wrong methods, but he won’t give you the time of day. He never does.” His hand pounds against the doorframe. “And stay the fuck away from his beta. That lunatic voluntarily came into this place…that should say it all.”

The door closes loudly, but there are no noises to indicate it locks behind him.

My hand moves to rub my aching stomach. The empty feeling tells me it’s been a long time since I’ve eaten, but the sheer panic sitting heavy in my chest wouldn’t allow me to eat, anyway.

That guy painted a grim picture, but he also said he would notify my family of where I am.

That means I just have to stay alive and unbonded for long enough for them to come for me.

What the hell am I supposed to do now?

* * *

The room or cell I was given has a bed, a chair, and most importantly…an attached bathroom. It doesn’t have a shower, but there is a toilet and a sink. After determining the water tastes terrible—but probably won’t kill me—I make a plan.

Humans can easily live a few weeks without food. It might suck, but it’ll be worth it. I just have to survive long enough for my father or the security company to pay for my release.

So, I hunker down.

I don’t get a moment of rest as what I assume is the afternoon passes.

Commotion and people talking in the hallway outside my door put me on high alert, but I keep the light off and stay in bed. My room doesn’t have a clock, but an alarm fills the air, and about five minutes later, my door buzzes loudly. A little red light appears on the door handle, and I hope that means I’m locked in safely for the night.

Waking up the next morning is unsettling. The same alarm sounds, and within a few minutes, the door buzzes, and the light turns green.

I rub my tired eyes, looking at the bathroom. Barricading myself in there is one option, but it doesn’t have a lock.

My stomach has never been so empty, and the thought of food is tempting, but I still refuse to leave my room.

There are glass panels on either side of my door and various women peep in throughout the day. Every time someone else appears, I roll over and do the most omega thing possible—I cover my head with my blanket and daydream I’m back home, safe and sound in the nest in my childhood bedroom.

That lasts for a few hours, but eventually, people start to congregate outside my door. From the sounds of it, it’s a group of women, but there’s no way to be sure.

In a place like this, I doubt anyone is safe to be around. Curling up into a ball, I say a prayer and even beg my mom to watch over me. I’m not big on religion, but that woman loved the hell out of me. If she’s able to look in on me, I know she does.

Someone knocks on the door, and I go still.

It’s a ridiculous reaction.

It’s not like I turn invisible if I don’t move, but I’m not sure what else to do.

“Do you speak English?” a muffled female voice asks from outside the door.

I don’t respond.

There’s no telling how much time passes, but she tries again in German, followed by Dutch, and finally what I think might be Russian.

Still, I stay silent.

“If you’d like an escort to lunch, now is the time to come out,” the female voice calls.

Pulling my pillow over my head, I try to breathe through the panic sitting heavy in my chest.

It’s tempting.

I’m so hungry, it feels like my body is trying to eat itself, but I still pray for whoever is out there to go away.

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