Page 24 of Broken Dreams

I’ve been avoiding talking about my feelings with her so I’m barely speaking to my best friend at all. I can tell it’s upsetting her, but I didn’t want to say the wrong thing. Now it’s been four days since the caning and punishment, and my thoughts are clawing the walls.

I need to see her.

We’re in a large warehouse, the club section of the building in front. There’s plenty of running water and several bathrooms, which is why it was ridiculous for Bret to lose his shit on Makayla at all.

Stalking through the halls, my eyes narrow as I see her walking around a corner. Moving faster, I grab her around the waist once we’re away from prying eyes. Her intake of breath is sharp and brief before she smells me and relaxes.

“I’m really fucking pissed at you,” I grumble into her ear.

Makayla remains silent and relaxed in my arms, a sign of trust. Fuck, this girl trusts me. She’s beautiful, stubborn, and essentially mute by choice. I shouldn’t be this drawn to her because of where we are and what our life is like, but you can’t choose who you love.

I told her for the first time ever that I love her the day of the punishments. I wasn’t expecting an acknowledgement, but I can tell that she feels the same. I hate that such a big moment happened right before she was beaten with a cane in front of an audience.

This place ruins everything.

Turning her head, she gazes up at me with her baby blue eyes, her scent sad.

“You know he could have hurt you,” I rage on, moving us through the hallway to a storage closet I know is there.

Everyone is busy elsewhere, so no one will come looking for us here.

“I need you to stay in one piece. For some reason he protects you until you piss him off,” I say.

We can still see each other despite the darkness in the closet, which means I can see her pressed lips as she crosses her arms over her chest. She’s wearing a pair of cut-off jeans and a crop top, which means that I can also see the bottoms of her breasts.

It’s a very tiny shirt, meant for someone with a smaller bust. Everyone shares clothing here, and not much belongs to any one person. Makayla is waiting for me to get to the point, and I sigh.

Fuck, what is my point?Just being in her orbit sometimes makes the thoughts fly out of my head. I have zero game when it comes to her, not when I’m this angry.

“I don’t want to say the wrong thing,” I finally say with a groan. “I can’t save you, baby. When he’s riled up like that, seeing red, I’m a prisoner of this place. All I can do is watch it happen and die inside.”

Makayla blows out a breath, taking a step toward me to put her hand on my chest. I’m wearing a pair of jeans, flip flops, and little else since clothes are in short supply here. It makes me long for the days where my closet was my typical guy uniform of Henley shirts and jeans.

It was boring, but it was mine.

Her hand feels cool on my overheated skin, and I feel a bit overdramatic, even though I know I’m not. When she was on the stage being caned, I was with a client sucking dick. I couldn’t even see most of it because my nose was pressed against his pelvic bone as he gagged me.

I could hear every time Saxon hit her though. I fucking counted, and then wanted to kill him when he went beyond the required ten. My girl had to be banking on holding out until the tenth.

The fact that the asshole didn’t follow that makes me even angrier all over again.

“Stop,” she whispers, sighing.

Dropping to my knees, I ignore the dust on the ground as I wrap my arms around her waist to pull her closer to me.

“I can’t. Please stay safe for me,” I insist. “This can’t be our lives forever, Makayla. One day, things will change. I can feel it. The first time I told you that I loved you was during an awful time. I don’t want the last time I say it to you to be here. I know you and Bret butt heads, and that you avoid him at all costs.”

Makayla opens her mouth, brows drawn down as if she’d reprimand me if she could, but I shake my head. It’s amazing how expressive her face is, I could almost argue with her just from what her facial expressions are.

“Wait,” I say, “I’m not saying that’s your fault, just that I see it. Alisa took advantage of an opportunity and threw you to him, which was why he was on the warpath. She opened her fat mouth and I overheard her. I taught her the error of her ways just now.”

Makayla looks amused, her eyes sparkling.

“Hope is dangerous here, but you’ve been mine since I was brought here and first saw you,” I murmur. “Stay mine, Makayla, okay? Don’t leave me because Bret lost his temper.”

“Okay,” she whispers, nodding.

Leaning down, I brush my lips over hers, breathing in deeply. I would never be able to live without smelling her sweet scent again. I know omegas can’t scent match, but she’s mine regardless. I want to stay with her forever, even if it means being here.

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