Page 109 of Taken Off Camera
“How?”
“They need proof I can deliver quality merchandise.” He speaks as if discussing a business transaction, not a human life. “Once they watch you perform, they’ll know I’m serious. That I can be trusted with more responsibility.”
My pulse throbs in my temples. “They who?”
Travis’s eyes dart away, then back. “People who understand Omegas and know how to train them properly.”
The trafficking ring. The same one the Rockfords have been hunting. The realization hits me with such force that I almost vomit.
“You don’t understand what you’re doing,” I whisper. “These people?—”
“Are professionals.” Travis cuts me off. “And once I prove myself, they promised I can have you back. After proper training, of course.”
I shake my head, horror building in waves. “That’s not how these operations work. They’ll use you, then dispose of you.”
Travis’s face darkens. “You think I’m stupid? I’ve been planning this for months. Watching you. Learning your habits. Building the perfect space for us.”
“And the cameras in my apartment? The messages? The gifts?” Each word feels like dragging glass through my throat.
“The gifts were to get you used to my pheromones. The cameras… Well, those were necessary, too.” His fingers trace the outline of my lips. “Had to make sure you were worth the investment. Worth risking everything for. You were doing so well until that greedy Alpha showed up and tried to take you from me. So I had to escalate our courtship.”
The truck door opens again, followed by three knocks on the side panel.
“Time to go.” Travis reaches behind me, hauling me up by my bound arms, and pain shoots through my shoulders. “Your friend is waiting. And so is your future.”
“Please,” I try one last angle. “Sebastian will pay whatever they’re offering. More, even. You don’t need to do this.”
Travis pauses, genuine confusion crossing his face. “Pay? This isn’t about money, Elliot.” His expressionsoftens with pity. “It’s about belonging. You’ll understand once you’re trained.”
My heart sinks as I realize there’s no reasoning with him. In his mind, he’s not a criminal or a monster. He’s a savior, delivering me to some twisted version of salvation.
“You’re going to be perfect,” he whispers, pulling the gag back up. “They’ll understand why you’re perfect.”
As he secures the fabric between my teeth, I catch a glimpse of the industrial district of Brickwell. No signs, no landmarks, nothing to indicate where we are.
Travis eases me back into the tool chest. “Just a little longer, Elliot. Be a good boy for me, or the first thing I’ll do when we arrive is break your friend’s legs.”
With a wink, he shuts the lid, locking me back in darkness.
The truck lurches to a stop again, engine dying with an abrupt wheeze that leaves only the tick of cooling metal in its wake. My muscles seize with terror as footsteps circle the vehicle, and the lid lifts with ametallic screech, Travis’s silhouette blocking the dim light.
“Are you sure you can handle things on your own?” the driver asks from off to the side.
“Yeah, he’s so small.” Travis gives me a slow once-over. “I can handle him. Thanks for getting me this far.”
“Worth it to put those Rockford assholes in their place.” He taps the side of the truck. “Have fun.”
“Oh, I will.”
Leaning down, Travis’s hands clamp around my upper arms, fingers digging into flesh as he drags me out of the box. My hip bones scrape over the metal edge, pain shooting through my legs as my feet dangle, searching for ground.
“Move,” Travis hisses, dragging me to the end of the truck and yanking the gag down around my neck.
With a shove, I hit the concrete floor hard, knees absorbing the impact with a shock that travels up my spine. The zip ties cut deeper into my wrists as I try to roll, instinct driving me to put distance between us. My bound ankles throw off my balance, but he left enough slack in the bindings for me to twist out of reach of his hands.
“Help!” My shout echoes through the massivewarehouse space, the sound bouncing off distant walls. “Somebody help me!”
Travis lunges forward, and I kick out with my bound feet, connecting with his shin. He curses, stumbling back a step. The small victory ignites something in me, and I thrash harder, rolling onto my stomach to push up with my shoulders.
