twenty
Kole
Waking up this morning was a bitch. My whole body was sore, but thanks to my alpha healing, I had been fine by the time lunch rolled around.
Which is where I am now, ripping apart a grilled cheese with my teeth and pretending that I don't care that myLisichkais looking over at me every thirty seconds as if I might collapse before her very eyes.
At least I fared better than Carson. Last I heard, he had two broken ribs, a punctured lung, two black eyes, and a busted lip. And, of course, hisbroken wrist.
Maybe I went too far.
But when I overheard the bastard talking to his buddies, saying how next time she gets tossed into the Cathedral, he'll try to sneak in to "teach her a lesson", I lost it. Told Brooks I wouldn't be fighting unless they brought him in the ring with me. Don't know how the bastard managed to sneak in a damn knife, but I don't feel bad for breaking his wrist.
Fuck, maybe I didn't go far enough. He's lucky I didn't rip out his tongue.
I dare to look over at Jo again, and she bites her lip and looks away, her high ponytail swinging over her shoulder. It fills my alpha with pride, to think that the little omega is so concerned with my wellbeing. I just hope I don't start purring again, because once was embarrassing enough.
Despite that, I can’t stand how attracted I am to her. It has me making stupid decisions, like going feral on Carson and earning myself six additional hours of lab time so they can run more tests on me.
The way her hair is right now though? Pulled up high on her head and showing off her lean, slender neck? Makes my fucking mouth water. I can envision right where my bite would go if we weren’t in this hell-hole, if life were different. If she were free to be mine.
Clearly, this omega has me not only making stupid decisions, but having stupid thoughts as well.
Maybe I’m just not fit to be aroundanyomegas, considering they’re the reason I’m being used as a human lab-rat. Though…I suppose that’s not entirely fair. The omegas didn’taskto be kidnapped and carted off to an omega trafficking ring.
They didn’t even ask me to get them out. They were all defeated, weary, and not making eye contact with anyone. No, my decision to drive them to the nearest omega shelter and call in a tip to the police had been all me. As well as the choice to tell my father that people arenot cargo, and I may break kneecaps for the hell of it, but that’s where I draw the line. My one chivalrous moment in a lifetime of violence and bloodshed.
And look where it got me.
In a damn mental institution, sitting at a table by myself with half a grilled cheese sandwich stuffed in my mouth as I sneak glances at an infuriatingly beautiful omega.
The pyromaniac next to Jo shoots me a wink, and I have to keep the corner of my mouth from tilting up. I don't think I've ever said more than four words to the guy, but there's something about him that I like. I've seen them making out like a couple of teenagers no less than four times now, but I don't want to rip his lips off his face for touching her with them. I don't even want to break his fingers for gripping her leg under the table.
Then there's Sam, leaning against the wall across the room from them, trying his hardest not to stare too long. I'm not sure what his intentions are, but my gut tells me there's nothing malicious about them. When I caught him sneaking into the little omega's room a few nights ago, I had to stop myself from following in after him.
I figured I’d giveLisichkaa few minutes to put him in his place, then come in if she needed me. When he came stumbling out of the room less than five minutes later, nothing but mortification on his face, I figured I didn’t need to worry about him. I’m glad, because it would have been a shame to kill my least-hated orderly.
He wouldn’t have made it out of the room in one piece if the little omega had a problem with him being there.
I don’t miss the way West looks at her either. Like he would give up his license to practice if she said the word.
Little fox has all these men wrapped around her little finger. The only question is, what is she going to do with them?
The pyro stands from the table, pressing a kiss to her head before grabbing his tray and walking away. Where the fuck is he going? The pregnant beta Jo adopted isn’t anywhere to be seen, so that just leaves her alone at her table.
Which, I’m guessing, is precisely why Lars fucking Devereaux shows his ugly mug, coming behind Jo and gripping her ponytail in his fist. He yanks back hard the next second, whispering something in her ear that puts a look on her face that I never want to see again.
Fear.
I’m on my feet the next instance, but before I make it two steps, she’s broken his hold, turned to stand, and grabbed him by the balls, twistinghard.
He howls in pain as she gets as close to his face as she can, muttering something to him that I can’t hear. Then she releases him, letting the bastard collapse to the floor. The tables that had turned to look go back to their meals, completely unbothered by the violence.
I grin, taking a step back. I don’t need to get involved. My girl has it handled.
Fuck. No.Notmy girl.
Then, of course, Paige Lawson shows her stupid face. Her splint’s been removed from her nose, but she still has some swelling.