Page 16 of Party Girl: How a Naughty Omega Finds Love
ChapterFive
WHITNEY
I’m shivering. There must be a cold front coming in. My apartment is usually warmer than this. I pull the blanket up to my chin then open my eyes and look down. This is definitely not my apartment. Sitting, I let the scratchy blue scrap of material fall to the floor. Rolled steel bars line the mostly concrete room. A stone drops into the pit of my stomach.
Memories from last night flash through my mind. Vodka bombs. Going to dance. The thunder. The cops. The claws. Hayden, the officer who pulled me over, telling the paramedic I was on LSD. Being escorted to a transport vehicle with a bunch of other people.
Shit. This is not good.
I glance around, squinting through the dull ache behind my eyes. A few other people are sleeping off the effects of last night. A shiver races down my spine. It’s so cold. Grabbing the scratchy blanket, I wrap it around myself. Lindsey is snoring on a bench, legs splayed wide open. She’s lucky everyone else is sleeping. I adjust her legs so she’s not showing the whole world her very skimpy thong and sit next to her.
“I fucked up,” I whisper, trying to brush my hair with my fingers.
All things considered, this isn’t the worst moment of my life. There’s a way out of this prison. When I was little, I never thought I’d make it out of my mother’s house alive. There were times when I didn’t think I’d survive the five-day stint locked in the cellar while she and my fathers rode out her heat. This cell is like a five-star hotel compared to that place.
“Ugh.” Lindsey jerks awake, hands instantly slapping over her eyes. “Too bright.”
“Morning, sunshine,” I say with a lame laugh. “We’re in jail.”
“What?” She sits, dropping her hands from her face and groaning. “Shit. Not again.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Not again? You’ve been here before?”
“A few months ago.”
“Let me guess, no frequent flier miles?”
She snorts and gives me a look. “Why aren’t you freaking out? I had a meltdown the first time I was arrested.”
“It’s a little cold,” I say with a shrug. “But my mom’s not here.”
“Ain’t that the fuckin’ truth.” She scrubs her face. “Oh shit. It’s Friday.”
The Compatibility Ceremony is tonight. I should already be getting ready, going to a salon for a fresh haircut, but I won’t be getting matched tonight. Camila gave me one last warning before sending me to the therapist. I had one more chance. I worked so hard to pass that stupid test, but now I’ve fucked up my future. Only good omegas are rewarded, and I always end up in trouble.
“Rise and shine, ladies,” a sharp voice calls from down the hall.
Grumbles of frustration answer the man, but by the time he’s standing before us, everyone is sitting. The guy glares at all of us before glancing down at his clipboard.
“Whitney Marie Tolson.” He looks up expectantly.
Lindsey elbows me.
“H-here,” I say, walking toward the steel bars. I’m not surprised they identified me so easily. Facial recognition software is a bitch, and the Omega Council has a database with all our information in it, and I’m sure they cross-check mugshots to that system.
“Omega. Age twenty?”
I nod.
He checks me out. “You’re being sent to the Omega Council for processing. Let’s go.” He pulls a key from his belt and unlocks the door, scowling at everyone else until he closes it. He’s so serious it’s almost laughable. Like they’d try to escape in a building full of cops.
“Arms behind your back.”
I do as he asks, shooting Lindsey a look while he clips cuffs around my wrists. I start to mouth goodbye but see she’s preoccupied talking to another woman in the cell. Giving it a second, I wait for her to look and say something. To say goodbye. For all we know, this could be the last time I see her. She never does. A disappointed frown tugs at my lips, but I quickly school my features.
She’s hungover.
Yeah, but she’s supposed to be your best friend.
