Page 8 of One Flew Over the Omega's Nest: Part One
She screams at me, then flees from the room covering her face the whole time.
I'm glad that Adela told me that the guards only get involved if lives are in danger, because that could have been bad for me.
three
Jo
Adela tries to walk me to my meeting with the facility director, Leslie Perez.
"Addie, I know you're tryin' to help, but I can't look weak right now." If anyone else had demanded they escort me to an appointment, they would have found themselves on the other end of the plastic spork I swiped from the cafeteria. But within the hour, Adela seems to have wiggled past all my defenses.
"You just brokePaige Lawson'snose, Jo." Adela looks at me with wide eyes. "There are going to be consequences for that.Maybe not from Thornfield, but—"
"Addie, I'm fine." I brush her off. "You're in no state to be puttin' yourself in any danger anyhow."
"Okay, well…" She pushes her glasses up her nose. Aww, bless her heart. She really is worried about me. She sighs and gives me directions to the Facility Director's office.
Smiling, I nod. "Easy peasy."
I take the first left, just like she said, and then a right, and then…that's where I lose it.
Well shit.
Did she say to take another left and it’s the third door on the right? Or a right and the third door on the left?
I'm giving the security camera the middle finger when something knocks into my shoulder.
Hard.
I stagger forward, clutching my shoulder as a large, orange-suit clad body moves past me.
"Excuse you!" My hand lands on my hip as I stare daggers at the brute who just plowed into me like a tractor.
The ass waffle who ran into me stops in his tracks, then turns on his heel and narrows his eyes. "What did you just say to me, bitch?"
The alpha in front of me is more like the kind of alpha I'm used to dealing with. Angry, irrational, quick to slip up. His brown hair falls into his eyes, his scowl angry, like he was in a pissy mood before he even ran into me.
"I said, excuse you." My voice stays even. "Precious, you might need to see the doctor if your hearin' is goin' out this young."
He's crowding me against the wall in the next second, his damp wood scent making my nose itch. "Do you know who I am?" He growls.
"Sorry, I left my mind-readin' helmet at home today." The snark leaves me before I can think twice.
"Shut the fuck up," he hisses, his hand reaching for my throat.
The guyhadto make it physical. All he had to do was apologize. Or even just keep walking. But no. He had to go and try to lay hands on me.
See, when a man puts his hands on me in a violent manner, I tend to lose myself a little. Proper southern lady? Never heard of her. Get ready to meet Trailer Trash Bitch.
Logic flies out the window. All I can hear is my heartbeat pounding in my ears as everything around me slips away, leaving one thought in its wake.
Survive. Survive. Survive.
The bastard doesn't get to make contact with me, because a scream rips out of my throat as I catch his wrist with my hand and twist it away from me. If he had been expecting it, the move never would have worked, but he wasn't expecting me to fight back. He probably saw my purple jumpsuit and thought I was an easy target.
Not today, asshole.
His left hand rears back like he's gonna take a swing, so I take the opportunity to drop and ram my shoulder into his midsection, knocking him off balance. He loses his footing and falls onto his back, and in the next instant, I'm straddling his chest, my fists making contact with his face, over and over and over again.
