Page 42 of No Escape

The way she described it made it all seem so magical. I’m older now, and I understand how the world works a little better, but courting still seems special.

Omen reaches into the bag and pulls out a white plastic first aid kit. “And to think, I risked being locked out to stop by the stockroom to make sure we had necessities for you.”

My head tilts, and I give him what hopefully comes off as an appreciative smile. “That means a lot. Thank you.”

Valor pats my stomach while Omen simply focuses back on the bag.

“We can leave these in here for now, but there’s bottled water and several types of juice.” He shrugs. “Candy to combat the cravings for sweets both before and after your heat.” Pulling his hand free, he drops a bunch of chocolate bars and other sugar-filled treats.

The next item is wrapped in plastic with all the air sucked out of it.

It looks like a vacuum-sealed blanket.

Valor snatches it and begins to rip it open.

“There’s also this list of instructions about how to care for an omega,” Omen says, dropping a paper onto the table. “And this device, which we’re supposed to stick on the door handle if you spike a fever over 112. Although it highly recommends knotting as a first resort.” He chuckles, wiggling his eyebrows. “My gift is so much better.”

Valor drops the plastic on the floor and shakes out the blanket. It falls over my lap and down my legs. My arms end up pinned under it, but he wraps his arms over the comforter, and a strange feeling of contentment radiates in my chest.

I wiggle around, and it makes his scent burst in the air, which only makes my instincts happier. It’s a known fact that omegas like to be restrained, either by their alphas or, in some cases, with ropes or other devices. That’s a bit more than I think I’d be comfortable with, but I’ve just decided that I’d be fine being restrained by another person.

The way Valor has me currently trapped in place is giving my system a feeling of safety that I didn’t think could be achieved in this awful place.

“Fuck, I wish I had my camera.” Omen winks, shoving himself out of his chair. He grabs the bin he carried in earlier and moves it next to his chair before clearing the table of the reusable bag and its contents. “My options were limited, just remember that.”

Valor’s hand sneaks under the blanket and between my arm and my stomach. He plants his palm on my middle once more, and his thumb soothes up and down. “You smell a lot better when you’re not stressed.”

My teeth dig into my lower lip to keep from laughing.

That was a very man-like thing to say, but I also haven’t showered in I’m not sure how many days.

That brings up thoughts of wondering what they did to me while I was unconscious. What’s happened to me since being released into the cell block isn’t half as scary as the unknown of before I woke up.

Omen pulls the lid off the bin and takes out a first aid kit exactly like the one that was delivered with our food. “It has a thermometer, ice packs, fever reducers, earplugs, an eye mask for when you’re sensitive to light, scent-blocking soap, and stuff for after your heat. All that woman stuff. Period sticks and diapers and whatnot.”

I snort. “Wow, thanks.” I refuse to even acknowledge him calling padsdiapers. “You haven’t opened it. How do you know what’s inside?”

He shrugs. “You get real bored in here. I’ve been through all the supplies in the storage rooms. They don’t bar us access to anything except our freedom.”

“And a television,” Valor rumbles. “I’m not sure how that could speed up the decay, and it’s the one thing that would help pass the time a little faster.”

My chest gets tight.

That sounds awful.

I can’t imagine what it would be like to know you can’t trust your own mind.

He’s so warm and comfortable behind me.

My nostrils flare as I breathe in his electric scent. His smell deeply affects my system, and it tries to convince me that I’m safe, despite the fact I know I’m truly not.

Well, I’m probably safe in here with Omen and Valor.

At the very least, I’m as protected as I’m going to get in this place.

“That was a very thoughtful thing to grab.” I smile, hoping Omen can sense that my words are true.

“Next up”—he reaches into the container once more—“we have lip balm, scentless lotion, and deodorant. I also grabbed you mini bottles of body wash, shampoo, and conditioner. Don’t get too excited. They all smell exactly the same, but I usually don’t bother with conditioner.”

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