Page 53 of Stolen By the Alpha Hunter
“Came to say goodbye,” I say, keeping Abel and Ephraim in my peripherals. I slip my hand out of my pocket, palming the note. “And uh…well, I guess I owe you an apology.”
“Not necessary,” Boyd says with a congenial grin. “Always kinda figured you’d get snatched up by some cute little omega. That’s just the way of things, ain’t it?”
I’m sure Peaches would have something to say about that, given that we’re in fact the ones who snatched her…but she keeps her mouth shut with Ephraim and Abel looking over our shoulder.
“Well, it’s been good working with you,” I say. “Thanks.”
“For what?” he scoffs, crossing his arms.
For saving my life. Even if you’re a good-for-nothing degenerate.
“For the good company,” I say.
I reach out my hand to shake his and our palms meet. There’s a flash of recognition in that moment, his blue eyes narrowing slightly—but then it’s gone as he takes the note from me and slips it into his pocket.
“See you around, Javi,” he says.
“See ya, Boyd,” I reply.
The only friend I’ve ever had gets in the elevator, shooting me one last grin before it descends. I don’t let the pain reach anywhere deep, plain discomfort settling on my skin as Peaches and I are left alone on the platform.
“Well, now that that touching moment is over, the Prime wants to talk to you,” Ephraim says. “But you can’t bring your female.”
I glower at him. “Like I said, she comes with me.”
“Eh, let her,” Abel says with a shrug. “What is she gonna do? She’s too stupid to get anything out of our conversation.”
Peaches stiffens again, and I squeeze her shoulders.
Let them think she’s stupid—I’ve overheard more than a few privileged conversations because people thought I was just a brute. I’ll try to tell her that when we’re alone again later, when she’s allowed to speak.
But for now, we have to go and meet with Gideon.
“Lead the way,” I say.
12
PEACHES
Every second spent on the Rig is a reminder of why I left.
The fact that I haven’t been given clothes to wear and have to walk around barefoot on rusted steel.
That I’m not allowed to speak or go outside without permission.
And to top it all off, I’m forced to hang onto someone who doesn’t even like me.
Ephraim and Abel take us to a room above the mess hall, climbing the creaky stairs to a big, cluttered space full of chairs. I haven’t been here since the night before I decided to leave the Rig—the hardest night of my life.
The night my mother died.
I keep my eyes down as we enter, Javi’s hand never leaving my body. One palm warm and steady against the curve of my back, the other resting heavy at my hip—possessive, protective. In other circumstances, it might bother me. But here?
It’s the only thing keeping me breathing.
Because every man in this room would take a bite out of me if he thought Javi’s grip slipped.
The moment the door shuts behind us, the room goes quiet. Thick, expectant. Tense.
