Page 158 of Party Girl: How a Naughty Omega Finds Love
ChapterForty-Four
WHITNEY
My palms brush over gritty concrete. The cool air in the room has me shivering as I wake, blinking to clear my blurry eyes. I’m on the floor. Warm, yellow light spills through a small gap between the door and the ground, illuminating the room. No, not a room.
I sit and glance between the walls that can’t be more than five feet apart.
A cell.
My hands shake as I run them over my clothes, checking for any injuries. Other than where the man had injected me with a sedative, I’m fine. I suck in a hard breath as my stomach swims with anxiety. Heart racing, I carefully push off the floor and stand. The room is hardly big enough to move around in. A small five by five square. No bed.
No furniture.
No food.
No one.
Memories flood my mind, a torrent of emotion accompanying them. A familiar earthy scent fills my nostrils. A smell that doesn’t belong in this place.
“No.” I shake my head, backing against the far wall as my vision begins to blur. Strong fingers grip my arm, and I scream, smacking at invisible hands. “She’s not here,” I whisper, biting my cheek to try and ground myself.
Phantom lips brush against my ear, and the back of my head aches where my mother always held my hair. “Down you go.” Her voice in my head is like a viper sneaking through the grass, striking me without warning.
Mother shoves me into the cellar, and I stumble before tripping over my own feet, falling to the floor.
“Please. No.” I gasp for air, clutching my chest. I can’t breathe. The walls of the tiny cell close in, pushing me further down into the memory. Further into a place I’d never thought I’d return. My legs give out and I slide down the wall, whimpering as the past and present blur together until suddenly I’m a child again, small and helpless.
The door slammed shut hours ago. Her sickly-sweet scent lingers in the air, reminding me of why I’m in here.
Her heat.
I bang on the cheap wood, hoping someone will hear me and save me this time.
“Help me! Hello?” Tears are streaking down my dirty face. I swipe at them, smearing the dirt across my cheeks. It’s so filthy down here it’s like each breath I take is coated with dust.
“Help me,” I scream again, but my voice is hoarse from yelling. My hand aches from banging on the door.
Nothing ever changes.
No one ever comes to save me.
They must think I deserve it too.
Bright light invades my vision, and I blink, trying to see whoever opened the cellar door. Shoes scuff across the ground, and I shrink into the wall. There’s no escape though.
“What’s wrong with her?” Camila asks.
I furrow my brow. Why is Camila here?
“She’s having some sort of panic attack. What do you want me to do?” Someone squats in front of me.
A man. An alpha. I blink, trying to figure out which reality I belong in. Neither is good.
“Snap her out of it.” Her voice is angry and I cringe away from it.
“Please,” I whisper.
Strong hands grab my shoulders and shake me.
