Page 22 of Knot your Princess
“I won't let her swap herself for me. We can work this out, whateveritis.”
Wiping my hot brow on my dress, seeing the blood smear off as well. I pick up the gauze that Trent dropped and place it on the wound with a hiss. The antiseptic is burning it now.
After a moment, Lorenzo waves the gun at Trent, who comes back over to help me, warily this time in case I pounce on him and force him to knot me or some bollocks.
“You smell so sweet,” he murmurs, looking at the wound and not my eyes.
“That’s why they call me Sugar.”
His gaze drops to mine, the intensity boring holes into my head. “I see.” He pulls on the end of the tape and rips a piece off with his teeth. He sticks a bit to my head over the gauze and then rips another piece off. He sticks that and moves away.
“Open the windows up there, would you?” he croaks to the two men in the front.
The sound of electric windows opening fills the air as everyone is silent, contemplating their own situations and their next move.
I know mine.
It’s to work on Uncle Enzo until he breaks and lets me help sort this thing out with my mother so that no one else gets hurt.
Also, this thing with Trent is…interesting. Maybe it’s something I want to explore while I’m holed up wherever we are going.
And lastly, I need to find out if Nico is okay, because if he’s not, I’m not sure how I can forgive my uncle for killing him.
ChapterNineteen
Atlas
Stumbling out of the fire exit at the back of the gallery, into the alleyway, I clutch my aching head. That fucking prick Nico is going to get his nuts handed to him after this. I should’ve known getting this deeply involved in this case would bring me nothing but trouble. One thing is as obvious as the stench in this disgusting alley, is that he has fallen for Sophia like a dumbfuck.
Pretty much like me.
Ignoring my thoughts, I groan, rubbing at the spot where he punched me in the temple. “Fucking prick.” Furious, I kick out an overflowing skip, gutted that I lost the fucking gun and the envelope that my contact had placed for me to find.
A homeless man, rooting through a skip, glances up but ignores me and carries on looking for his treasure in the trash.
Dragging my phone out of my pocket, I flick back the video. What seemed so simple yesterday, is now so complicated that it hurts my already-pounding head.
Trying to figure out my next move, I round the corner and see Cain climb into a van a bit further down the road.
“You have got to be kidding me!” I kick out at the wall, frustrated and fed the fuck up of today already.
Looking right and left, I scour the streets for Nico and Sophia. They have vanished, which isn’t that surprising. I’m guessing they went back to her pack compound.
Storming down the road under a cloud and hoping the IPP don’t expect me to check in anytime soon, I make it back to the small car I’d stashed this morning and climb in. Firing up the engine, I pull out and make my way back out of the city, debating what to do with this video. Send it to Quinn? He will go absolutely ballistic. It will take care of the Nico problem for me. He appears to be a massive roadblock in my way to getting Sophia to trust me. But I’m guessing he will lock Sophia up, and she will never see the light of day again until her wedding day, when she will be mated off to some old, perverted alpha and live under his thumb for the rest of her life.
It surprises me that the thought of it makes me sick. It hurts my heart to think of such a beautiful, fiery omega, tamed and cowed in this way. She should fly free, live her life, and be with an alpha who can give her the world. I want that alpha to be me. I want to be the one to help her soar.
Pulling over onto the side of the road after about half an hour of driving, I slam my fist on the steering wheel. Cursing myself, Nico, her, and the earth, I pull the phone out again and delete the video. Sending this to Quinn will do her no good. It will hurt her, and I’d rather see my plans shot to hell than do that to her. This isn’t over. Sophia knows about me now. She is curious, I know she is. I can still whisk her off her feet and treasure her in the way she needs to be.
Chucking the phone on the passenger seat, I set off again, shifting from first into second and going around a sharp bend in the road. Slamming on the brakes behind a van with its hazard lights on, I slide the window down to peer out to see if I can see what’s going on.
“Sugar!”
I frown and flick my own hazard lights on.
“Sugar!”
Climbing out of the car, I slam the door. Striding past the van, I pull up short. Cain is frantically opening the doors to a smashed-up van, yelling at the top of his voice.
