Page 43 of Party Girl: How a Naughty Omega Finds Love
I whirl around. He’s carrying all of my bags. His intentions become crystal clear, and I shake my head.
“I’m not staying.”
“Whitney,” he says, voice gentle and coaxing.
“I’m not some charity case.” I grab the handle of the suitcase in his right hand and yank on it. His grip is like iron. I tug again, glaring up at him. “Asher, let it go.”
He releases the bag.
“Good boy,” Avi whispers.
“Fuck you.” Asher flips off his friend.
“I’m not staying,” I say to Asher, holding his gaze. “Take me to jail.”
“What’s the difference?” he hedges. “Stay here. Like you said, it’s only one night. You’ll be more comfortable here than you will in a cell. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
I realize it’s odd for him to try and convince me to not go to jail, but my stomach tightens with unease. What does he want? I shoot my gaze to Avi. This is a trick.
“It’s not a trick,” Avi says quickly. “You’re safe here.”
Dropping my gaze, I shake my head and stare at my feet. “I’ve heard that before.”
Right before my mother locked me in the cellar.
I lost track of how many times I was shoved inside of the damp, dark, spider-infested room. Five days without a bathroom. Five days with cheap snacks and water. Five days of crying. Five days of hell.
“Whitney?”
“What?” My voice is hoarse, and I lift my gaze, staring at Avi.
“Wherever you went, don’t go there. I promise you, I’ll kill anyone who tries to touch you against your will, even if it’s one of my pack.” His gaze is hard and unrelenting. “You. Are. Safe.”
I swallow the lump in my throat and let go of the bag. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“No,” they say at the same time.
Closing my eyes, I let out a heavy sigh. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be. The couch is mine.” I look between them.
Lights flash over the living room.
“Shit,” Asher says, peeking out of the window. “Come with me.” He grabs the suitcase and hurries around me and down the hall. When he realizes I’m not following him, he turns. “Whitney.” There’s an edge of desperation in his voice. “Please.”
“It’s okay,” Avi says. “We need to talk to Trev first.”
He must be their other roommate. I’m not in a hurry to meet another alpha. I take the easy way out and follow Asher. His eyes flick between me and the door, like he’s expecting it to burst open at any second.
“Am I safe?” I ask, giving him a pointed look.
“Of course,” he says. “That’s not the issue.”
“Then what is?”
“It’s a long story.” He juts his chin toward his bedroom door. “Can you open that?”
The screech of the screen door makes my skin ripple with gooseflesh. Asher’s jumpy and I’m starting to freak out. Dread pools in my stomach. I knew this was too good to be true. Wrenching the door open, I rush into the room. Asher grimaces and sets my things on the floor, shooting me an apologetic smile.
“It’ll be okay.”
