Page 18 of One Flew Over the Omega's Nest: Part One
I blink a few times, focusing on the way Carson's eyes are bugging out of his head. "What did you do to her? The omega who gave you that wound?"
"I don't know what you're talking about man—" He lets out a sharp wheeze when I squeeze his neck tighter for just a second before letting him breathe again. "Okay, okay! I grabbed her tits from behind. It was nothing man, I didn't know she was yours—"
My fingers tighten on his neck again, his face turning purple. But my side is starting to bleed more, and I'm feeling light headed. I need to wrap this up. "If you ever lay a hand on her again, I will remove both of your hands from your body. Slowly and painfully."
He nods, his face turning blue, his hands still trying to gain purchase. I release him, and he drops to the ground, gasping for breath. "I promise, I promise, I'm sorry."
But I'm already walking away from him, wincing as I let myself into the dorms. When I reach my room, I pull my keycard out of my pocket and scan it.
I stumble into the small room, immediately going for my first aid kit I managed to lift from the nurse’s office. Well, I broke into the office in the middle of the night and raided her supplies so I don't have to go see her.
It only takes me a minute to start stitching up the wound in my side, and I wince at the pain.
Am I worried about repercussions for anything I just did? Absolutely not.
I can do whatever the fuck I want here. They need me.
They stay out of my way, and in return I let them experiment all sorts of wonky shit on my body without putting up a fight.
Because that drug they're so proud of and pushing on everyone? I'm immune to it.
My instincts are not dampened, my alpha not in a cage.
And they can't figure out why.
So of course, that means that I'm their lab rat.
It's worth it though, if it means I can do what I need to protect the omega that's come into my life.
Delicious apple pie scent and all.
eight
Jo
Therapy had consisted of me staring off into space for twenty minutes before West sighed, telling me that if he doesn't havesomethingto put in his notes, they might transfer me to a different doctor. So that's how I ended up describing every single boring detail I could think of regarding my life up until I murdered Daddy, hoping he'd decide that my silence was better than my rambling.
He didn't.
I kept Mabel out of everything, which was difficult, considering she's my better half, but I can't afford to be too trusting right now.
Immediately after therapy was lunch, where I ate my fill of carne asada tacos. I had been a little sour that the meal didn't require utensils,so I was unable to swipe one to make a shiv to replace the paring knife I left lodged in the Russian Giant, or, as Adela oh-so helpfully informed me after I detailed our encounter…Kole.
I'm sure he's fine. I'm sure the little stab wound I left him with didn't kill him. If it did, I would have been hauled into Zombieland…er, the Cathedral, already.
"Jo?" Adela's voice startles me, and I jump slightly, dropping my cards on the table.
"Crap on a cracker," I mutter, quickly picking up my cards again. "What was the number?"
"I asked if you have any twos." She looks at me quizzically.
"Oh." I scan my cards in my hand as Not-Cheddar starts to squeak in my pocket. "Go fish."
The “Game Room” is just a regular room with a bunch of tables, chairs, cards, and board games where the patients can spend their free time. Though, Adela was very convincing when she was trying to get me to come play cards with her and some other girls.
Despite my worry about scent, Kole seems to be the only one who's gotten a whiff so far. At least, as far as anyone’s told me.
"You alright, Jo?" Adela asks, her brow furrowing. "You seem a little…distracted."
