The world is fucking spinning.
I can't scream either, because of the barked command earlier. To be honest, I'm not sure how much screaming I would've been able to do without that, considering the fact that I can't breathe.
My arms are wrenched behind my back and I hear the click of metal handcuffs around my wrists. As I'm hauled up to my feet, my vision blurs as I look down at the blood dripping down onto the concrete in front of me.
Oh. I'm bleeding.
I glance down at myself and watch as blood drips down onto my white blouse, staining the fabric.
Dom's familiar cigar scent floods my nostrils as he steps up in front of me.
"You're fucking stupid, you know that?" Dom growls. He grips my cheeks and forces me to look up at him as he stares at the wound on my chin. "Dammit, you just had to go and fuck up your face, didn't you?"
I can taste blood in my mouth. I must've bitten something when I was going down. Or my teeth must've cut the inside of my mouth when I slammed into the ground.
I spit into Dom's face, baring my teeth in my own snarl.
"Fuck off," I hiss.
He narrows his eyes at me before nodding at the alpha behind me. "I got this. Get lost."
Dom grips my shoulder as the other alpha lets go of his hold on my arms. No chance of escaping now.
"What about the money? I was told there was gonna be money?—"
"Oh, yeah, that," Dom says, reaching his hand into his pocket.
My blood runs cold. He's not reaching for money right now. I can tell. I've known this man for years.
I don't have time to brace myself before my ears ring. I flinch as the metallic, smoky smell of gunpowder hits my nostrils.
"Don't look behind you," Dom mutters, tucking his gun away. "I know you've got a thing about blood on concrete and shit."
There's no other way to describe the dread that I feel as I'm dragged towards the SUV. It's like my insides are trembling.
I've gotten so used to the luxury of the Northside, the luxury of having alphas as safe as my guys, that I've forgotten where I came from.
This is the world I came from.
A world where omegas are helpless pawns. Where death is commonplace. Where your value is determined by what you can offer those in power.
I'm hit with a steely sort of determination. I survived my time there. I just have to survive it long enough to make it back to my guys.
The door slams behind Dom, leaving the two of us enclosed in the backseat.
"You can get going now," he says to the driver. He's a bald, massive alpha with dark sunglasses and an expensive suit.
"I didn't know you worked with Northsiders," I huff, trying to find a comfortable position as far away from Dom as possible. It's hard with my arms handcuffed behind my back. I can feel the metal digging into my wrists.
"I could say the same fucking thing about you," Dom growls, narrowing his eyes at me. "You ran away with an entire God damn pack full of 'em! You couldn't even keep your fucking head down, either! You had to go and be stupid and testify for the biggest fucking case of the decade!"
I jerk my head back in surprise. Why does he sound more pissed about me testifying than he does about me running away with my pack?
"What's... what's going on here?"
Dom's jaw clenches and he darts his gaze to the driver we have.
"Just keep your mouth shut and your head down till we get where we're going, got that?" He pulls his phone out and starts rapidly typing away.