Page 13 of Party Girl: How a Naughty Omega Finds Love
“No.” I curl in on myself. “No.”
“You’re okay,” the monster soothes.
“What is she on?”
“One, two, three, boom!” Lindsey giggles.
“Fucking druggies,” a grumpy voice that isn’t the monster says.
“Vodka bombs.”
Each voice starts to merge together. I can’t tell who the monster is anymore. I’m scared to look, but if I don’t, I can’t find a way to escape.
Slowly lowering my arms, I tip my head up. A group of cops stands around me and Lindsey. Alpha and beta pheromones fill the air, wrapping around me like a noose.
Fuck.
“Whitney, it’s Hayden. I pulled you over earlier, remember?” I look at the guy in front of me, recognizing his gray eyes. His voice is less monstrous now that I can see his face. “Do you know where you are?”
“Dolin.”
“Excuse me.” A woman shoves past the cops.
Hayden doesn’t move.
She huffs and sits on my other side. “Hey, hon. I’m Maddy. Can you tell me what you’re on?”
“I had a vodka bomb.” And the alcohol before we left my apartment, but the vodka bomb had… something in it.
“Look at my light.” She holds up a tiny flashlight that’s as bright as a flash of lightning.
Thunder shakes the building. “I hate thunderstorms.”
“Pupils are blown. Do you know what was in the drink?”
“No.” I should have asked. My heart starts to race again when she straps a blood pressure cuff to my arm.
“Is she going to be okay?” Hayden asks.
I glance at him. “Why do you care?”
He makes a face but doesn’t answer.
“Depends on the drug. She’s tripping, that’s for sure.”
A few crashes of thunder make me flinch.
“I don’t like storms,” I say again, trying to get up.
“Shh, it’s okay.” The paramedic grabs me. “Sit here with me. The storm will be over soon.”
“Hey. Knock that shit off,” Hayden shouts. The other cops glare across the dance floor.
“Detective Jay told us to search the place,” a far-off voice yells back.
“Sarge?” Hayden glances at the tallest guy in front of us.
“I’ll take care of it. Arrest the omega and her friend.”
“Yes, sir.”
Their steps boom like thunder, and the fear gripping my heart eases. It’s not a storm.
“I want to dance.” Lindsey gets to her feet and dances around. Her movements make sounds. Her hips like the heavy bass of the EDM music from earlier.
“Find the bartender,” the paramedic tells Hayden, words oddly in time with Lindsey’s music. “Find out what was in that drink.”
