Page 128 of The Packaged Deal

thirty-four

Jade

Iwake up in the back of a car. My thoughts are muddy, but the scents in the car are immediately wrong. This isn’t my pack. Where am I?

I carefully push myself up, trying to see, and realise the next set of problems. My wrists and ankles are tied with cable ties. It’s actually hurting, badly.

Adrian? What happened to Adrian?

“What happened to the man I was with?”

In slow motion, Trevor looks over his shoulder and smiles at me from the driver’s seat. “You’re awake. How lovely.”

My stomach drops violently, and I taste bile. This is worse than I could have imagined.

“The man.” My throat is so dry I have to clear it twice before it’s clear enough to work. “The man who was with me, is he okay?”

Trevor laughs.

The laugh triggers memories, and I hear Adrian shouting and a thud.

“Is he dead?” I shout and pull at the ties.

“I don’t know. I didn’t bother to check.” His eyes meet mine in the mirror. “You left me.”

Three words that send terror rushing through me. I keep my face still and don’t even twitch.

My breathing gets heavier. I can’t think of anything to do. What should I do?

“You’re my omega.”

“No, I’m not. I never consented. We went on a couple of forced dates in my mother’s living room. That doesn’t give you-”

“That gives me all the rights!” Trevor roars. “You belong to me. I need you!”

I cower in the seat. There’s nothing I can do. I’m helpless. He’s going to hurt me.

Sven, Kandi, and Adrian flash in my mind. I have to fight for them. I’m not the same omega they found on the Omega Refuge doorstep.

Trevor drives, muttering crossly to himself. He does that a lot. It’s a really disturbing habit. His hair is messy and oily, like he’s been thrusting his fingers through his brown hair over and over. His eyes are pinched at the sides like he’s squinting, and he’s got big black shadows under them. His face is gaunt like he’s lost weight.

In my mind, when I remember him, I remember a bigger, more scary-looking alpha. But…I inhale and pause. There’s something off about his scent.

It smells like alpha but not.

I catalogue information as fast as I can. A white bandage is wrapped around his hand, with an innocuous little bow. It’s clean on the top, but when he turns his hand, it’s filthy. He drums his fingers on the steering wheel. Is he nervous?

I look up and try in vain to see out the windows. There’s nothing but the tops of buildings and the grey sky.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Shut up!” He roars, his tendons stand out on his neck, and his skin turns a mottled red.

He looks crazy.

What is it about his scent? It’s wet grass and something else, something that smells like a chemical.

Trevor snarls and opens a tiny vial that he pulls out of his pocket. He uses his teeth to take the top off, and then tosses whatever is in it down his throat.

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