Page 50 of Captive Omega

It’s not a surprise when he turns to leave, giving me the space he thinks I need to get over a past I never will.

“I made a mistake,” I call after him.

Garrison stops in the doorway, angling his head to face me.

I nudge my glasses up my nose. That’s another appointment I’ve been pushing back, and these glasses are sliding down my nose more than they ever have before.

“Resa was looking at my hands and I thought…” Garrison doesn’t fill my pause, though he must know exactly what I thought. It’s what I always think. “She wasn’t staring.”

“What was she doing?”

“Remembering that she’d forgotten her knife and wasn’t sure she wanted to come so close to an alpha without one. I think she thought I would try to grab her.” Meeting Garrison’s eyes, I continue in a lower tone, “I wasn’t expecting that. Because I wasn’t, I scared her.”

All I see when I look at myself are my scars. It’s hard to believe anyone can look at me and not see them.

“Now we know.” There’s no sign Garrison blames me for something that was my fault. “We give her more space. She’ll learn to trust us.”

“She hasn’t seen the worst of my scars.”

“But she’s seen the worst of alphas. She’s seen the worst of us.” Garrison’s gaze turns distant. “I imagine that’s a thousand times worse than your scars.”

He walks out, leaving me alone with my thoughts. And my guilt.

I look at my phone. It’s off now, but I can’t keep it that way. My annual checkup is now, and I can only dodge it for so long.

I pick up the cell phone. Power it up. Take in the voicemail symbol, a reminder I have to make an appointment to go to the clinic.

I turn my cell phone off, set it on the dining table and get back to a nice, uncomplicated case unlikely to blow up in all our faces and kill someone else we love.

It’s boring, but it’s safe.

Chapter 14

Resa

Back in my room, I close the door, lock it and sit cross-legged in front of it.

I grip my knife, hoping I won’t have to use it to kill someone else.

Killing one person was bad enough. I don’t know if I have the stomach to do it again.

But if I have to…

I swallow hard, wrenching my mind away from the memory of Rupert’s blood forming a halo around his cracked head.

If I have to do it, then I’ll do it.

The sun sets, stealing the last light from the room and plunging me into near darkness. I need to get up and turn on a lamp, and I’ll do that.

Soon.

When my stomach grumbles, I ignore it.

The turkey and Swiss sandwich Vaughn made for me is going to have to be enough. My feet still throb from stomping up the stairs and my heart hasn’t recovered from an alpha’s furious glare. I was looking at his hands, thinking they’d give me a clue if he attacked. My biggest mistake was being stupid enough to turn my back.

Idiot.

I remember all the ways alphas have hurt me and I can’t see myself going downstairs again. Probably ever.

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