Page 157 of Captive Omega

Garrison quietly snorts. “I think she’s too determined to have decided so soon. But I think we’re on our way to convincing her that her place is with us.”

When Blaine asks about Sadie, we make our way to his room.

Resa is standing beside the window now, arms folded as Blaine swings his legs to the side of the bed, frowning. “Have you seen Sadie? I’ve stopped bleeding, and she said she’d be fifteen minutes, but…” His voice trails off.

“But what?” I ask, curious about his response.

He shakes his head. “Nothing. Just, she’s been a while.”

Yes, she has, and it sounds like you only just noticed.

If I hadn’t seen what I had, I wouldn’t have known they were holding hands. I saw it, and I warn myself not to get excited about what it means. Blaine isn’t suddenly going to be hugging everyone and hitting bars. But it would be amazing to have my friend back.

Garrison nods. “I’ll go get her. You ready to go home?”

Blaine blows out a sigh of relief. “Yeah.” His eyes dart to Resa. “I have a self-defense lesson to teach, and Vaughn…”

“You need me to play dummy?”

He nods.

“Sure.” What’s a kidney punch between friends?

Chapter 45

Resa

It’s been two days since I held an alpha's hand instead of wanting to stab it.

Or him.

We didn’t have our self-defense lesson. Blaine was weak, pale, and a little unsteady as he climbed out of the Hummer, even if he said he was fine. I told him I was okay to wait until he was better.

Vaughn has been giving me long looks and secret smiles since we brought Blaine back from the clinic. When I ask him about it, he’s frustratingly vague.

Garrison has been absent. He’s out of the house or he’s shutting himself in the meeting room for hours and hours. There’s been no hunching over a puzzle in the middle of the night—I know because I checked—so I can only imagine whatever he’s working on is wiping him out each day.

It’s the early afternoon, and I’m on my way to the computer room to work on my list. I have fifteen names in my notebook. Some are only first names, others are surnames I caught in passing. All belong to alphas who need to spend the rest of their lives rotting in a cell.

Lex sticks his head out of the kitchen. “Ah, Vaughn wants to see you.”

“About?”

He shrugs. “Just said it was important. He’s down that way. Last door on the left.” He points in the other direction to the computer room.

I consider telling him this list is important, but if Vaughn says it’s important, not knowing will eat me alive.

“Okay.” I follow Lex’s finger in the direction he pointed, locate the door he told me was the right one, open it, and walk into a shooting range.

Literally.

It’s a white room with four people shaped targets stuck to the wall, guns filling a lockable cupboard which is currently open, and a wood table Vaughn is standing beside, holding a black handgun.

My eyes are like saucers. “You have a shooting room.”

Vaughn, dressed in all black, his blond hair tied back from his face, waits until I’ve finished absorbing this unexpected sight. “Yup. We usually lock this door, so don’t think you can walk in anytime you like.”

“Unless I broke in?”

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