Page 90 of Captive Omega

“What are you reading?” It’s not the first time I’m asking him this.

Lex brought me breakfast this morning: scrambled eggs, bacon, and fresh melon with fancy apple juice. Vaughn asked if he could hang out, and I said I didn’t mind. He sprawled over the floor reading that book. The same thing happened after lunch. He brought that. A thick roast beef sandwich with chips.

And fancy apple juice.

Vaughn must know I’m trying to replace the blood in my veins with the stuff, because it just keeps on coming. He also came back with that damned book. I think it’s the same one he was reading in the clinic, and I need to know what it is.

He turns another page. “Porn.”

I lean forward, squinting as I try to read upside down. “There seem to be a lot of words.”

He lifts the book slightly so I can’t see. “Well, there are pictures, too. Plenty of pictures.”

“Can I see?” I ask, mostly because I’m positive he’s lying.

“Nope. This stuff is so depraved my eyes are burning.” Then he mutters something and sticks a Post-it tab on one page.

No one Post-it notes porn.

“Something interesting?” I lean closer to the book.

He sits back, angling it so I see nothing. “Just your garden variety porn. Nothing to see here.”

Approximately two minutes of watching him through narrowed eyes later, boredom sets in again.

“I was helping Garrison out with the Jerome Walker case,” I remind him, “so I can get out of bed now and do that.”

Vaughn took the file back when my bedrest started, so all I’ve had is TV, food, and a beta paging through a book he won’t let me see for entertainment.

“Garrison is still working on the case. We’ll find him,” he mutters, distracted.

“But I’m better.”

He turns another page and makes a soft sound of surprise, briefly distracting me. “The appointment you have tomorrow morning will confirm it. Until then, bloodthirsty omega, you can stay right where you are. Resting.”

I want to insist, but my heart isn’t truly in arguing.

He’s right. I hate sitting around doing nothing when it feels like I’m wasting time. The smart thing would be to ensure I truly am well before I wind up doing the same thing that made me bleed before.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

I flick my gaze up. Vaughn has set the book aside for now. By aside, I mean tucked it in a bag so I can’t even see the cover. He’s watching me, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle, arms folded. I wonder how long I was staring into space, blaming myself.

“What wasn’t my fault?”

“What happened.”

“And why do you think that I’m blaming myself?”

“It’s natural when something bad happens for good people to blame themselves for it.”

“Good people.”

He nods. “Yep. I’ve met bad. You’re not one of those. No one knows why it happened. It was just one of those things.”

“Don’t the alphas care you spend so much time up here with me?”

I’ve taken to calling them the alphas. Since they dropped everything to take me to the clinic, I’ve caught myself thinking that maybe they weren’t bad alphas. That I might be able to trust them. A dangerous thought to have about my scent matches. Distance is good. Distance means I’m not in danger of getting attached or forming feelings.

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