Page 48 of Party Girl: How a Naughty Omega Finds Love
ChapterFourteen
WHITNEY
The house is quiet. Asher’s bed is the perfect blend of soft and firm. His sheets smell like him—musky and earthy. The bedside clock reads three in the morning. I haven’t been able to sleep. Avi made me a fancy grilled cheese with turkey and Swiss cheese, but not even that made sleep come.
I’m tired, but wired all at the same time. Too keyed up from the last forty-eight hours. My eyes ache. Rubbing them to ease the dryness, I turn on my side and let out a long breath. Unease swirls in my stomach. I punched Camila and I wouldn’t put it past her to shun me. She’s vindictive like that. Images of her cruel smirk and ill intentions flash through my mind. I can’t report to the Omega Council.
The only safe choice is to run. I don’t know where I’ll go, but once I’m out of Dolin I can find a small town to hole up in. There’s bound to be a low pack in need of an omega. Taking mates out of desperate need isn’t ideal, but it’s better than the unknown. At least this way I’ll be in control.
Settling on my decision, I slip out of bed and quietly get dressed, pulling on Asher’s black hoodie he left on the desk chair. I’ll need it for cold nights. Layers will save me from freezing and there’s enough room underneath to have at least three of my shirts on. I load up my backpack with essential supplies. The box from my dresser. The key Granny left me. As many clothes as I can stuff inside. I decide to leave my phone so they can’t track me.
The zipper sounds like a bullhorn in the otherwise silent house, but the men have to be dead asleep by now. My flats aren’t ideal for walking, but the only other shoes I have are cheap flip-flops and high heels. I settle the bag on my back and gently ease the door open, waiting for a breath to make sure no one rushes out of their room.
The doors remain closed.
Someone is snoring.
The ticking clock mocks the erratic beating of my heart.
Suddenly I’m seventeen again, opening my bedroom door to leave before my mother goes into her full heat. I shake myself out of the memory, focusing on the present. I exit Asher’s room and leave the door open. Walking on the edge of the hallway to avoid creaking floorboards, I slowly edge toward the door with clammy palms. My breath comes out in harsh exhales as I lose the battle with the past.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” My mother lights a cigarette, giving away her location at the worn dining room table.
“To Lindsey’s,” I lie. I don’t have a plan. I only know that I have to leave before her heat begins.
“You didn’t ask permission.” Twin streams of smoke shoot out of her nostrils, giving her a beastly appearance.
“I thought it would be better…” I trail off as she stands, stepping toward the door. “I’ll be gone. You’ll have them all to yourself.” Desperation drives me to appeal to her ego.
“So you admit you want them?” She growls, stomping toward me.
“What?” My heart sinks, and my throat closes. I dash for the door, but she tackles me to the ground, digging her fingers into my hair and roughly wrenching my head back.
“I see the way you watch them,” she hisses, digging her elbow into the space between my shoulder blades. “Daddies’ little girl.”
Fingers curl around my shoulder, ejecting me from the past.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Trev’s words trigger me.
I scream and yank out of his hold, stumbling into the wall. My panicked eyes find his face for a millisecond, registering the surprise. He steps away, holding up his hands to show he’s not going to hurt me. My heart pounds against my chest, and I suck in a ragged breath. Then I run. I burst out of the house, the screen door banging into the side of the house.
“Whitney,” he roars my name.
My breath catches in my throat. Phantom pain rips across my scalp, my mother’s relentless hold reaching through the years to torment me. My legs tremble as I race down the steps. I trip on an uneven patch of sidewalk and go down, tumbling into the grass.
“Stop.” Trev pushes the command at me when I start to get to my feet. “You’re okay.”
My entire body stills at the demand. Humiliation races up my neck and heats my cheeks with the last of his words. The moisture from the damp grass seeps through my pants. The night air is cool and someone nearby is smoking a cigarette, the smell kindling memories of me pinned to the floor, my mother’s knee pressing into the space between my shoulder blades.
“Fucking slut,” Mother growls into my ear before slamming my head into the floor.
A strangled cry works its way out of my chest, my body betraying me and showing the world how pathetic I am. I run my hands over my hair, wincing at the touch. It’s been years since she’s had me in that position, but the pain covering my scalp and face is tangible. Wounds that never fully healed. The agony of it all burns through me, ripping holes in the mental shields I’d built up. I gasp for air. Once. Twice. It’s not enough.
Her hand covers my mouth, and her fingers pinch my nose closed, robbing me of air. “See how they like you when you’re dead.”
“Whitney?” Hayden’s voice breaks through the memory.
My lungs expand, drawing in precious oxygen, and my body shudders with its arrival, almost unsure of how to handle the very thing that will keep me alive. Heart pounding a mile a minute, I search for the voice that saved me from reliving more of her abuse. Hayden drops to the grass in front of me, gray eyes wide and full of fear.
