Page 5 of The Alpha in Alcatraz

“Tom.” He’s a giant of a man, and every time he moves, his chair squeals under his enormous size.

“Why do you think you’re here today?” I press my pen into the paper to write down whatever Tom answers.

“I dunno.” He shrugs his massive shoulders, and a sigh barrels through his chest.

“Do you know why you’re in the Alcatraz rehabilitation center?” I ask. Going from quick wit and sexually charged banter to the normal day-to-day is harder than I expected.

Tom shakes his head. “Who are you? Where’s Dr. Lissa?”

“Dr. Lissa isn’t well, and I’m stepping in for her. Her notes say that you have people talking to you. Can you tell me what they say?”

Her notes actually say that Tom suffers from schizophrenia and often has conversations with himself. It was during one of his episodes that he ended up killing two people, who he thought were hallucinations. He doesn’t recall the incident.

“No.” He shakes his head. “They wouldn’t like it.”

“What if I told you I can help you with the voices if you trust me?” I smile. It breaks the concern on his face momentarily.

“They tell me to do bad things sometimes.” He turns away from me, fixing his eyes on the desk. He takes a few deep breaths, but I don’t interrupt while he takes it in. “Like this.”

In a flash, Tom throws himself forward and snatches the keys on my desk before I can grab them. Shit. I must have left them there after I uncuffed Victor.

Remember what they taught you, Sedona. Stay calm. Press the button and pull the trigger. Treat the patients like wild animals. Don’t panic, and don’t show fear.

I shove my hand under the desk, find the handle of the tranquilizer pistol, and fire the needle. Right beside the gun is the small box that houses the emergency button, and I press it.

Sirens blare outside in an instant, and the fluttering in my chest ceases for a moment. But it’s quickly replaced by actual terror as Tom turns his head up to me.

“Ouchy.” Tom looks at the dart sticking out of his stomach. “You hurt me.”

Fury floods his face, and his brown eyes burn fiercely. At first, I assume the concoction is taking longer to kick in because of his sheer size, but I quickly realize it’s not taking at all. He continues to fiddle with the keys until his hands come free from the chains.

“You hurt me,” he roars as he charges towards me. “Now, I’m gonna hurt you.”

5

VICTOR

Sirens blare, and chaos erupts.

The voice on the speaker insists the inmates remain calm and security will escort everyone back to their rooms. But that voice is safe behind thick walls and bulletproof glass. They have no bearing on the crazies screaming at the top of their lungs and starting a riot in the common area.

Through it all, I remain seated, watching as the loonies begin their parade. They squeal and dance, shout and throw wild fists into anything that will connect. A crayon narrowly misses my head, flung by Bethany Howlett from across the room. Moments ago, it was used to draw amateur flowers and her childhood home. Mom, Dad, Bethany, and dog—all happy to the side.

How beautiful it is when chaos reigns supreme.

“Code black in room thirty-eight. I repeat. Code black in room thirty-eight,” another calm announcement from the intercom system.

This one sends my heart into my throat. Room thirty-eight—Sedona Quinn’s office. If I wasn’t paying attention, I might’ve missed it. But now that I know my woman is in danger, fury courses through my veins.

I launch out of my chair and sprint toward the small door that brought me into the common area. Two officers stand with batons in hand, ready to beat the piss out of anyone who tries crossing the boundary.

“Where do you think you’re going, Cullen?” one asks, pressing the tip of his baton into my chest. “Your room’s that way.” He gestures with his head to the line of people forming on the other side of the room.

“Listen, big man, we can do this the easy way.” I press my palm against my chin and crack my neck. “Or we can do it the fun way. Choice is yours.”

“You looking to get your ass kicked?” He prods me with the baton again.

In here, they don’t keep us chained up. A mistake these goons will regret.

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