Page 88 of No Escape

Shaw, being the nuanced individual he is, pulls his own hand up in full view of the omega. “Shit. Yeah, I better scrub down. I’m covered in that fuckface’s blood.”

We’re pretty much doomed.

* * *

This cell has limited seating options. The one we started in was set up for more people. There are three lofts in that room, and it came with the pull-out couch, which we ended up carrying over here.

It also wasn’t saturated with the scents of the unfamiliar alpha and beta.

You’re pouting. Not an attractive trait for a grown-ass man to have.

Saylor changes into another T-shirt and sweats that she digs out of one of the dressers. It must belong to the alpha because she has to roll the waistband of the sweats several times to keep them up. Once she’s done, she climbs onto the ladder of the loft across from the couch and wraps herself up in one of the blankets.

Shaw and I are on opposite sides of the sofa, and he pulled the little table over and sat it in front of the couch. It will give us a flat surface to play cards, but I think we’re both waiting to see if she drags over one of the chairs and sits in that.

Back on the floor, she glances between us and the table.

Shaw stretches over, grabbing some type of prepackaged pastry. It looks a little like a Honey Bun that you would find in the States, but it has a vanilla scent that fills the air as he pulls the plastic packaging down and takes a bite.

My forehead wrinkles as I turn sideways on the couch, giving him a dubious look. He’s not a big fan of sweets—at all.

He still makes a show of licking his lips. “Mmm, it’s good. Light and fluffy, with just a tinge of sweetness.” He holds out the package toward Saylor. “Want a bite?”

Her hand flies to her stomach, rubbing around. “I don’t know.” She meanders closer, and Shaw stretches back, nodding to his lap.

“Have a seat. You can be on my team.” He grins, making his dimples pop.

I clench my fists, fighting the irrational urge to throat punch him. He’s always been better at flirting than I could ever dream of being.

Saylor steps around the table and stops in front of him. We’re both sitting on the back edges of the couch, just on either side. He’s got one foot on the ground and the other leg at an angle on the cushion. He keeps the bun held in one hand and grabs the blanket off her shoulders with the other.

“Settle in, princess, and I’ll cover you up,” he says with a seductive twang to his voice that I’ve never heard.

We’re supposed to be a team, goddammit.

The omega comes to sit on the couch between his thighs, and Shaw tosses the blanket over her front, tucking it under her arms and around her thighs.

Valor’s scent fills the air, and my jaw clenches as I fight against the urge to growl.

I have no right to hate him or the beta. Everything we’ve learned points to them not being nearly as awful as I’ve made them out to be in my mind…

It still doesn’t mean I’m going to allow them to steal Saylor.

She snuggles back into Shaw’s chest, and he wraps his arms around her, offering her a bite of the sweet bun. She takes it but pulls a hand up to block her mouth as she chews. “It is very good. I’m just worried about what happens if I spike a fever again. It was so embarrassing. My body felt the need to purge everything from my stomach.”

“I’m not sure throwing up pure stomach acid would be much of an improvement,” I say with a hum.

Shaw nods and brings the package back to Saylor’s mouth.

She rolls her eyes but takes another bite.

Hopefully, she’s open to the two of us constantly hovering and attempting to take care of her.

* * *

Out of all the ways we passed the time when we lived at the senator’s mansion, we never played cards. We had a bit of a routine. Friday nights were dinner and a movie out if Saylor didn’t have a game or something school related. On any given night, several of her friends would tag along, and it was mostly our plan to get Saylor out of the house. If we didn’t push for her to leave, she’d lie around or nest and pass when her friends invited her out to do something. Saturday was for horror movies and lounging around the house. Sundays were actually our day off, but we’d normally stick around the house and catch up on laundry since Saylor was so low maintenance.

Our night in the cell passes as Saylor teaches us the rules of rummy, which is kind of adorable. We played cards nonstop during deployments, but she was so serious about reciting the rules that I didn’t have the heart to let her know we’re familiar with the game.

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