Page 23 of Rest In Knotty Pieces

“We can figure everything out in a minute. I will explain. You can ask me whatever you want to know, but let’s just get you breathing first. Know that youare safe. No one here will hurt you. No one will lay a finger on you. I give you my word.”

Why? Why?It makes no sense. Who is he?

My breathing gradually calms, and I pull my hands free, sitting up and inching away, angling my body so there’s space between us. I still haven’t looked at him, but it takes me a long time to gather my courage.

As soon as I lay eyes on him, the only thought I have is that he is the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. He has face tattoos, rings on all his fingers, dark eyes that stare at me with a haunting quality that says he’s seen this before, and he will protect me.

Who are you?My question must be on my face because he half smiles and answers as if I’ve asked it out loud.

“Daega O’Connell or Pix, everyone calls me Pix. I like photos, it’s a hobby.” He shrugs his shoulders, dismissing himself like he’s trying to appear less.

Are you a rock star?I look at his leather jacket, the rings, and then his tattoos. While he’s still processing, I glance quickly around the room. One door. No windows. There’s no weapons, just a plastic bottle of water beside the bed on a wooden side table. I reach for it, then pause.

What if it’s drugged?

“I’m not a celebrity. I’m just a guy.” He reaches for the water, twists the cap so it breaks loudly, then drinks some water before handing it to me.

I take it knowing I absolutely shouldn’t, but I’m so thirsty that I take a sip before forcing myself to stop.

He’s very relaxed, sitting easily on the side of the bed, watching me dispassionately. I get the impression that he doesn’t like me very much. That’s okay. No one really does.

I slide out of the bed on the other side, putting even more distance between us. Scanning the room and finding nothing.Who has rooms this empty? Why are they so empty?

My panic starts returning, building back up like a flooded river.

Where are the windows? Where am I? Who has me?

“We’re underground,” the strange male says. “It’s not a prison or anything bad, just a house with a basement.”

I walk past him to the door, half expecting him to stop me. He doesn’t. His scent hits me, has me stumbling, whirling around, eyes wide.

He’s an omega.

That means there will be alphas, right?

I yank open the door and slide out, not quite running but moving quickly. The water bottle is tight in my hands. The sweat from my panic attack has dried, and I’m cold in these white cotton pajamas I’ve been placed in.Where are my shoes? It will be hard to survive without shoes.

My whole body is shaking, and I feel like I’m outside of it, watching it from a distance. I’m breathing in ragged gasps again, too loudly.

Everything is wrong.Is this some science experiment? Am I in an underground laboratory or a weird fighting simulator?

My head aches, and my scent fills the air, acrid, bitter.

I hear voices, so many, overlapping, screaming.

I bolt and run straight into the kitchen. It’s just so out of place for my mental picture that I stop, staring in confusion. There are people coming this way, males laughing. I shove myself into a cupboard and pull the door closed; it barely latches.

“Go away.”

“Excuse fucking you?”

“Go away, Rolly, and take Roseland with you. Tell Blaze to go find Pix.”

I hunch deeper.

He comes into the kitchen and moves around almost silently. I shift my weight, but I can’t breathe properly. The cupboard is constricting my torso too much. I open my mouth wider, trying to get more air.

Sweat beads on my temple, and I stop hearing him. I see black spots as I push, trying to free myself, but I can’t.