Page 7 of One Flew Over the Omega's Nest: Part One
Huffing an angry breath, I grab Adela's arm again and keep walking, leaving the hot, psycho bastard behind us.
Maybe hedoesbelong in here after all.
On the way to the cafeteria, Adela had explained the color coding system for the jumpsuits. Lavender is omega, orange is alpha, and gray is beta. Since all alpha and omega instincts are tamped down, the color-coding system helps the guards and orderlies determine who belongs to what designation by sight alone.
If there's a gathering of only alphas, or "worse", an omega with only alphas, it might give way to a pack forming, and that means that the instinct suppression isn't working as well as it should be.
Seems like a load of shit to me.
She also showed me the room where they hold movie nights, which is just a classroom that they clear the chairs out of, and a different room where they do "arts and crafts".
Where the fuck am I?
It's like a weird, crazy person daycare.
The giant bell in the bell tower had rung at noon sharp, indicating to everyone that it was lunch time. Adela and I had been first in line, and she sat with me while we ate. It was nice, I haven't had a girlfriend to share a meal with since Mabel was sold off five years ago.
I couldn't help but notice that the cutlery is all made of plastic, and they don't give us knives. I was sorta hoping they might give us real utensils since they seem so lax about everything else. Eh, it'll be okay. One time I made a shiv out of a pen cap I stole from Dr. Nelson's office.
At least the food is good, I note as I grab my tray and get back in line for seconds. Ham and Swiss croissants with a side of potato salad andcarrot cake for dessert? This is better than I atebeforeI got arrested for murdering thirteen alphas.
There's still some lingering stares as I make my way back to the table, but now that everyone seems to understand that I'm not about to slit someone's throat, they seem less hostile. I'm just sitting back down when a high pitched, irritating as heck voice calls out behind me. "Oh, look, it's the father-killer."
I let my shoulders drop as I ignore the voice, sitting back on my bench and continuing to eat. Adela, across from me, looks above my head with wide eyes.
A tray clatters down next to me. Great.
"Paige, we don't want any trouble." Adela's voice shakes slightly as she stares down the blonde that just sat in the empty spot to my left. She's in a dark gray jumpsuit, meaning she's a beta, and she somehow has her nails done, even though I'm sure theydon'thave a nail salon here.
"Shut it, teen mom." Paige sneers, fixing her attention on me. "When I want advice on how to fail at birth control, I'll talk to you."
Well, fuck. We arereallydoing the mean girl thing.
That same protective urge flares to life in my chest, but I tamp it down. I don't need to get sent to Zombieland for killing someone my first day. "Well, that wasn't very polite. Paige, was it?"
She looks at me with a sneer. "Oh good, youarea country bumpkin. Listen here, Alabama Bitch, stay away from Hayden. He’s mine."
My brows shoot up. Alabama Bitch?
"And you," she sneers at Adela again, "don't you think you're fat enough already? Put down the fork, piggy."
Before I can stop myself, my hand reaches out and grasps the hair at the back of her neck. She cries out, and Adela's hand flies to her mouth, eyes wide.
I knew I'd have to do a demonstration at some point, so I suppose now is as good of a time as any. My eyes catch on the security camera in the corner of the room and I shoot it a wink, knowing it will capture every moment of this.
What? Doc said I couldn't kill anyone. He didn't say anything about putting stuck up, meaner-than-two-possums-in-a-pillow-case, wannabe barbies in their place.
"Let me go!" she screeches, her manicured fingers trying to scratch at my grip. Well, now it seems we have some attention. Eyes are on us, including the orderlies standing against the walls, but I know they won't interfere.
"Let's get a few things straight,Paige," I say in her ear, my voice low and dangerous. "First, have you ever heard the sayin' that you can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar? You might want to look into it, because your manners are severely lackin’. Second, an’ I mean this with every bone in my body—if you so much as look at Adela again, I will sneak up on you when you least expect it, and I will chop all this pretty hair off your head. You'll look just like the Barbie Mama got me for my fourth birthday after I decided I wanted to try to play hairdresser. And that'snota good thing."
I pause, huffing a breath through my nose because…Alabama Bitch? Really? "Thirdly…I have three words for you." I release her hair, and she relaxes for a split second before that same hand grabs the back of her head and slams it into the table. I lift her head back up, blood pouring from her nose. "I'm."Slam." From."Slam. "Georgia!"Slam.
Fuck, that feels good.
Paige lifts her head, bright red blood covering the bottom half of her face, her eyes furious and lined with tears. "Oh my gods!" Her voice is nasally as she cries out. "You're fucking crazy!" The front of her jumpsuit is stained with blood, but really, she needs to calm down. Nobody ever died from a nose bleed.
I lean in close. "That's kinda why we're here, isn't it?" I give her a feral grin before my expression shifts to concern. "Oh, Honey. You got a little somethin' in your teeth." I point to my own smile. "You might wanna get that cleaned up."
