Page 28 of No Escape

“Grab your food. We have to go now.” I push myself up, wondering why she’s not already in motion.

She has short legs.

There’s no way I’ll be able to get her to her room across the block and get back to my cell before they lock the doors. That particular buzzer is the ninety-second warning, and they don’t fuck around if you’re caught outside one of the rooms.

They will tranq your ass.

“Go where?” she asks, gathering her trash, like she’s about to walk it to one of the garbage cans.

“Your cell, but we have to hurry or I’ll never make it back to mine before lockdown.” Stomping around the table, I move to pick her up. “My legs are longer. I’ll carry you.”

She doesn’t fight me as I heft her into my arms. “No. I’m going with the two of you. It’s safest.”

Is she daft?

Being locked in for possibly days with a rabid alpha is notthe safest optionwhen it comes to anything.

I spin to check where Maggie is.

Only, her hair bounces around her back as she guides her group toward the women’s wing.

Omen jogs my way with his arms loaded down with bagged lunches, drinks, and snacks. Although they feed us three meals a day when we’re locked down, they’re punishment rations, and they’re never very appetizing.

No one will be particularly pleased with me once they release us from our cells, but that’s barely a thought in my mind.

“If you’re planning to drag me to my cell, then you better be ready to come inside with me,” the insane woman says, slapping my shoulder.

I growl, baring my teeth.

Her eyes widen, and she smacks me again. “Don’t do that. It’s rude. It seems like you need to decide quickly. Everyone else scurried away, and my room only has one twin-sized cot.”

My head falls back, and I grumble, “Fuck.”

* * *

“What are you doing?” I ask, snatching the door handle to the room I share with Omen.

“I’m not sure.” The omega squirms, planting her hands on my shoulders. She attempts to rearrange herself, and my instincts are convinced that she’s trying to escape. My hold on her hip tightens as I get us into the room.

Keeping my boot against the door, I make sure it’s propped open and move to place Saylor on her feet. She doesn’t release my shirt, and it keeps me bent over at an awkward angle.

“Go sit down somewhere,” I instruct, moving to pry her hands off my T-shirt. “I’ve got to keep this open in case Omen doesn’t make it.”

It will produce another alarm, and the guards will come investigate, but as long as it’s closed by the time they do their pass by, they’ve never fucked with us.

“Or you could just let me smell you,” she hisses, relocating her hands to my waist. She’s strong for such a little thing, and she pulls with enough force, it almost causes me to lose my footing.

“Enough!” I snarl, close to her face. “Omen can’t be caught outside when that door locks.”

“I don’t see what it hurts to let me sniff your sweat. It’s not like I’m going to block him from coming in.”

“You’re a spoiled brat.” My hand wraps around her lower back, pulling her flush with my front.

I flatten against the door and scan the hallway, ignoring the way she rubs her face around the sweaty material of my shirt.

Omen skids around the corner, and a bottle of water goes flying off the oversized bin he’s got in his arms. He frowns at the water, making his whitish-blond hair fall into his eyes, but he doesn’t stop to pick it up.

He jogs down the hall as the few stragglers to the left close their doors, and he makes it just as the obnoxious wailing leaves the speakers to signal someone’s door didn’t latch.

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