Page 20 of All In

I reach for my Smith & Wesson, but a knife slices across the man’s throat from behind before he can pull the trigger.

“That was unexpected.” I blink, tilting my head.

“Fuck, man.” It’s Tanner, based on the voice alone. I can’t see his face, due to the mask, but the tone is unmistakable. “That was close. I thought for sure he was going to get that shot off.”

I gesture to my face. “No mask. He assumed I was an ally. By the time my face registered as unfamiliar, you were handling the situation.”

“Yeah, what the fuck? You’re supposed to be in a mask. I could have shanked you.” Tanner bends down, burying his knife in the man’s heart before wiping off the blade and shoving it into the holster on his belt. He proceeds to rip the assault rifle off the corpse.

“Come along,” I say to avoid his question.

The masks are a necessity because I have five or six different groups all working in tandem. It quickly became apparent that they wouldn’t be able to tell friend from foe. The masks alleviated that problem, but I’m the one face everyone on our side should recognize.

Also, I don’t like the scratchy fabric. I’ve yet to find one my sensory issues don’t find repulsive.

“Does this mean you trust me?” Tanner asks, jogging to keep up with my stride.

I scoff. “Don’t push your luck.”

If anything, he may have just saved himself from spot number three in my basement once I finally make it back to Virginia.

Chapter Five

Laken

My life has turned to crap, and I don’t even understand why. On the plus side, I haven’t been attacked or violated yet. On the downside, I’m not dealing with the world’s brightest criminals.

They don’t seem to understand that I’m not Lyra.

They also haven’t worn masks or kept me blindfolded to prevent me from being able to identify them. Well, not until they shoved me into this freaking trunk.

Blindfolding me now feels like a terrible sign for my long-term sustainability. They should have done it when they initially snagged me if they ever intended to let me live.

I’ve spent days studying their faces and memorizing their voices.

Sadly, them leaving me here to die feels like a real possibility, considering I’ve been in here for five or more hours, based on my estimate alone. Except, I’m a female omega, and we go for high prices on the black market. I think it’s much more likely they’re planning to sell me, since I don’t have any of the information they’re after.

I grunt, struggling against the binds around my wrists and ankles.

A few years ago, I watched a show that included ways to know you were about to die. When freezing to death is a concern, it said shivering was actually a good thing. It’s when you suddenly get warm that it’s time to worry.

At least, I think I’m remembering that correctly.

I went from being so hot, I felt like I was going to pass out to being so cold, my entire body shivers.

If I can get out of here and find a gun, I think I could bring myself to kill someone if necessary.

I’m only twenty-one years old.

Dying in a trunk because I was mistaken for my sister is not how I want to go out.

The waves of panic I experienced when they first shut me in here are long gone. Resignation and determination took panic’s place what feels like hours ago.

Now I’m just genuinely pissed.

I’ve never experienced true claustrophobia before.

Sure, I avoid the tiny elevator in my apartment building, but that’s because it creaks when you use it.

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