Page 32 of Reckless: Collision

“It’s locked.”

“You’re keeping me a prisoner.”

“We are trying to keep you safe.”

“By locking me in the murder basement?” Every word drips with sarcasm, but my mind is already running scenarios. Calculating odds. Looking for the variables I can exploit.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” I hear Ryker a moment before he tosses me over his shoulder and marches toward the steps.

I take in his impressive dump truck of an ass before I bite it. Hard.

“If you think that is going to deter me, you’re wrong.” He growls, not even breaking stride. “Move.” He tells Finn, who barely gets out of the way in time. “This is for your own good.”

“Lies.” I don’t fight it. Fighting would be stupid. Fighting would mean I’m not memorizing every step, every turn, every potential escape route. “If you’re going to kill me, at least fuck me unconscious first.”

“Fucking hell, woman.” Ryker growls. “No one is fucking you in this pack.”

“Any more,” I correct, just to feel him tense. Just to know I can get under his skin like he’s trying to get under mine.

He growls more. “We are assigned to keep you alive.”

“I am alive.” And I plan to stay that way, preferably somewhere with WIFI and no alpha attitude.

“Not for long,” I hear him mutter under his breath before setting me on my feet. “It’s a full apartment.”

I turn around and?—

Oh.

It is an apartment. Bigger than anything I’ve ever had in my life, which just pisses me off more. All modern furnishings and clean lines. A kitchen that would be perfect for stress bakingif I actually baked. A living space that’s probably meant to be comforting but feels like a cage. Doors that lead to what I assume is a bathroom and bedroom.

And a glass door that leads outside. Currently blocked by enough junk to build a small fortress.

That’s when it clicks. The kind of understanding that usually comes with breaking through a particularly tough firewall.

I swing around and glare at the alpha before me. “You plan to lock me down here and leave me here.” I get right up in his face because fuck this alpha. Because fuck any system designed to contain me. My fingers actually twitch with the need to hack something, anything, just to prove I can break out.

“I don’t want you here.” He gets right up in mine, all alpha dominance and barely contained rage. “You are a distraction and an obligation. I need to get back to work.”

“You’re using me.” The words taste bitter, but really, I’d be angry if I hadn’t used his other alpha to help me escape my problems earlier today. Everything’s code if you look at it right—even this interaction.

Input: anger. Output: revelation.

He gives me a snarl. “Of course I’m using you. You are a means to an end and one I don’t want to see or hear from.”

Oh, I’m so going to escape as soon as I fucking can. Not just because I need to, but because he expects me to try. Because every fiber of my being rebels against being contained, controlled, cataloged like some piece of malfunctioning software that needs to be quarantined.

Even so, this is rude as fuck. What the hell am I supposed to do down here? My brain already feels like it’s short-circuiting from lack of digital input. “There is no telling how long I’ll be here,” I toss my hands up. “And there is nothing to do!”

He tries to smile and it is disturbing as fuck. Like he doesn’t do it often enough to even know how to smile, making it lookmore like a system crash than an expression. “I’m sure you will figure out how to entertain yourself.”

What the hell is that supposed to mean?

Maybe I’ll masturbate in front of the air filtration system after removing the filter just so my pussy scent floods the house.

No.

Maybe.

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