Page 30 of Party Girl: How a Naughty Omega Finds Love
She snorts. “Don’t I wish. Curtis must’ve given me more smack than normal.” Her eyes roll back in her head, and a funny grin pulls at her lips.
“Smack?”
“Mmhmm,” she says with a happy sigh. “I want to lie down.”
Finally, she has some sense.
“Let me help you.” I hold most of her weight and walk her to the couch. Maneuvering her gently to the cushions, I turn and start to let go.
“Whoops.” She squeals, dropping onto the couch. “So soft,” she whispers, pinching her eyes shut. “Have you ever flown?”
I don’t think she means airplane rides. “No.”
“There’s a needle in the dressing table.” She smiles to herself and hums.
A loud commotion sounds from the club and shouts erupt. I don’t know what’s going on, but whatever it is may be the distraction I need to escape.
“Hey.” I shake Nova. “Let’s go.” I don’t want to leave her.
“Leave me alone.” She smacks my hands away.
“We have to go, now.” I start to haul her up, but she growls, her scent growing stronger with her anger.
“You’re fucking up my high.” Her palm cracks across my cheek.
My skin stings from the impact, and I release her, pressing a hand to the side of my face. “I’m trying to save you.”
“I’m already lost,” she says, settling back onto the couch. “Run if you want, but you’ll never learn to fly.”
I frown, pinching my eyebrows together. Why doesn’t she want to leave? More shouting draws my attention. I look at Nova one last time, deciding to leave her. I won’t force her to come with me. Slipping out of the dressing room, I hurry to one of the other doors. An empty office. No windows. I close it, eyeing the door to the club as I walk to the other one.
“Everyone on the ground,” someone shouts.
I duck into the room closest to the main part of the club. It’s a breakroom. A small table and chairs. An old microwave. A few lockers. Panicking, I rush around the room, searching for a way out. There. A small storm window. Snatching a chair from the table, I drag it to the window. I scramble onto it and yank the window open. It’s small, but I think I’ll fit. I place my palms on the flat part of the window frame to hoist myself up.
The door to the room is kicked in. I scream, losing my momentum and dropping back onto the chair. I look over my shoulder only to see a gun pointed at me.
“Hands in the air!”
“Okay,” I say, shooting my arms up. “Okay.”
Fucking seriously? Cops again?
Fuck my life, man. I want a damn refund.
“Slowly get off the chair,” the guy says, stomping toward me.
“It’s not what it looks like.” I step off the chair, but stay facing the wall. He didn’t tell me to turn around, and I’m not about to get shot. “I was trying to escape Curtis.”
“This ain’t my first rodeo. Turn.”
“I’m not lying.” I slowly move so I’m facing him. The light attached to the top of his gun makes it hard to see his face, but he’s wearing a vest and a tactical helmet. He’s geared up like he’s about to go to war. Maybe he’ll believe me if I explain everything. “Curtis bought me from the auctions tonight. I don’t want to work for him. I don’t want to take smack. Please,” I say, voice breaking a little. “I just want to go home.”
His gun is still pointed at me, but for some reason, I’m less afraid of the deadly weapon than I am of Curtis.
“Whitney?”
I furrow my brow. “How do you know my name?”
