Page 23 of Party Girl: How a Naughty Omega Finds Love
ChapterSeven
WHITNEY
The clock on the far wall of the cold warehouse reads four in the afternoon when Wilson escorts a small group of women inside. I stand from my squatted position, hoping they don’t notice the almost dry puddle of piss. Camila left me here without so much as a bucket. I’m lucky I’m still wearing the dress from last night, otherwise, I’d be wearing pee-covered jeans.
The women are all too distraught to take notice of me. Wilson shackles them to the same railing I’m cuffed too, ignoring one woman’s pleas.
“You have to listen. It wasn’t my fault.” Tears cover her face, and she glances at the other women. “It wasn’t my fault.”
“I’ll only tell you this once,” Wilson says once he finishes cuffing the other women. “Shut up or you’ll be tazed. You can still be sold off if you’re unconscious, got it?”
She sniffs and shrinks back.
“That’s what I thought.” Wilson looks at me, eyes dropping to the marks on my wrist and then lower to the spot by my feet. He makes a disgusted face. “The auction will start in a couple of hours.”
When the large door slams shut behind him, the women start to whisper to each other.
“If we can get the handcuffs off, we can escape.” The woman who had been crying starts to work her hands. It’s no use. Wilson made sure they were tight enough to dig into our wrists.
“Where would we go?” another woman asks.
“I don’t know, but I don’t want to be sold off. Come on, help me.”
“It’s no use,” I say, looking around the woman behind me. “I’ve been here all day, and I haven’t found a way out. You’ll only hurt yourself.”
“I don’t belong here,” the crying woman says. “This is all a mistake.”
“I belong here.” A leggy blonde shakes her head. “I hurt an alpha, but I’d do it again.”
“But I didn’t do anything wrong. My ex—”
“You had a boyfriend?” I ask the crying woman.
“Well, it was nothing serious.”
“Yeah, but omegas aren’t supposed to date.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “I’m aware of the rules. No one would have known if he hadn’t reported it.”
“Some boyfriend,” the blonde mutters.
“Shut up. He loves me. He’s stupid though, thinking reporting our relationship would solve our problems.” She sniffs again, releasing a shuddering breath. “He ruined my life.”
“Don’t let life make you its bitch,” the blonde says quietly. “You’re still going with a pack.”
“Yeah, but it’s not the same,” the other starts.
“Maybe,” I cut in. “But you weren’t shunned. If they’re awful, you can report them, and I’m sure Camila will help you find a new pack.”
“Camila won’t do shit to help us,” the blonde says.
I give her a look. While that’s probably true, I’m trying to give the other woman hope, and the blonde is making that impossible.
“I’m Whitney.” I slide my gaze over the other omegas. They’re all dressed more casually than me. “What’s your name?” I ask the woman next to me.
“Mila.”
“Amy,” the next one says.
