by Ivy Asher
My back prickles with offense. “Just because you fucked me once and gave me”—I start to count how many orgasms but give up when I pause for too long—“a bunch of orgasms, doesn’t mean you know shit about my life. You have no idea what you’re talking about, so you can shove that judgmental tone and your unsolicited advice up your tight ass,” I snap. “I’m a problem solver, not a fucking coward.”
“No?” he tosses back. “Then prove it. Stop hiding. Don’t try to up your sentence. Don’t try to stay here. Find another way to solve the problem. Find a way you can face them and take control of your life.”
“Easy for you to say,” I snap. “You didn’t grow up the way I did. You have no clue what I’m up against.”
Rook inhales audibly, and I can tell he’s about to retort with more shit, but I cut him off. “Just go away before you really piss me off, Rookie,” I say, suddenly exhausted. “I don’t want to fight again, and you’re totally ruining my post-orgasm bliss.”
He huffs and runs his fingers through his hair. He watches me for a beat and then breathes a soft laugh out through his nose. “Fine, sorry. I just...I don’t like the thought of you wasting your life in here.”
“It’s not a waste,” I say, looking up at him. “I met you, didn’t I?”
His breath falters, intensity burning in his eyes at my words.
“Fucking gag me,” an inmate groans.
“I’ll make you fucking gag on your cock if you don’t stop interrupting!” I chirp back sweetly.
Rook chuckles and shakes his head at me. “You have such a filthy mouth.”
“You like it,” I tell him, and I love the way his eyes flicker with heat.
“I do,” he agrees quietly. “Now behave yourself. I won’t see you for a couple of days; I have a rotation in a different part of the prison.”
He grabs hold of my chin and pulls my face near his, planting a quick kiss on my lips before pulling away. Leaving me tingling, he gives me one last heated look and then turns and walks away. I shake my head and then smirk. Sucker didn’t even notice I switched out his name tag again. Double the dicks as last time. Totally fitting.
10
“You’ve got a visitor.”
I look up from my new business venture that I’ve been busy with and look at the prison guard. It’s Sandbag—the same jackhole who escorted me to see my mat and pat before. “No thanks, I’m all booked up at the moment.”
I hear my cell door clang open, and he glowers at me, taser gun in hand. “I wasn’t asking.”
I frown at him and put down my project, setting it on my bed. Just the sight of the taser makes my skin prickle in all the places I was hit before. Those marks took forever to go away. “Okay, okay. Don’t get your spanx in a twist.”
Following him out, I psych myself up for round two with my mat and pat, but when I get pushed into the visitor’s room and see the person on the other side of the glass, my steps pick up instead of drag. I plop down in the metal chair and practically rip the phone receiver off the wall in my hurry.
“What are you doing here, Dinah?” I ask the female cockatrice who happens to be one of my best friends from my lounge.
Dinah grins back at me from the other side of the plexiglass. Her bright purple pixie cut looks plummy under the bad prison lighting as her deep set hazel eyes take me in. “Damn, Sinclair. Look at you.”
I look down at the gray uniform and shrug. “I know, I know. It’s not exactly doing my figure any favors, but it’s basically like wearing pajamas twenty-four-seven, so it’s kinda worth it.”
She chuckles, but it’s forced, and I can see the tightness around her eyes that immediately sets me on edge. “What’s wrong?”
Her smile dims slightly, and a million worst-case scenarios reel through my mind.
“We’re in trouble,” she tells me stiffly, like the words are climbing out of her mouth despite her efforts to keep them inside.
“Who, you and Tark? Did something happen to Verity?” I demand, picturing Dinah’s purple pigtail clad three-year-old and her mate. I’m half crouched over the metal chair I was just sitting in, like if Dinah just says the word, I’m ready to bust out of this place and do anything I can to help her.
“No, Sin. They’re fine,” she assures me. “Verity’s wings are getting so strong and so fast. Tark and I found her almost five inches off the ground the other day in the backyard. Scared us to death. It also made us proud as hell,” she tells me, beaming.
I smile at the thought, both of us lost in the beauty of her feisty little girl for a second.
Dinah shakes her head and blows out a breath. “It’s the lounge, Sin. Matriarch is pretending like everything is fine. But I don’t think it is. You know Stur, Cena and Mack’s son?” she asks, and I nod. “He went missing last week.”
My brows dip with concern. Stur’s mom, Cena, is pretty frail, and he helps take care of her. He’s not the type to just run off.
“When his parents reported it to Matriarch Denali, she didn’t seem surprised by the news. She also didn’t seem like she was in a hurry to figure out what happened to him. She just kept saying that she was sure he’d turn up.”
I sit back down in my chair and try to think through why my mat would have reacted so out of character. She doesn’t allow anyone to fuck with her lounge. Not out of a sense of love or devotion, but because it makes her look weak, and that’s something she won’t tolerate.
“Right after the meeting with Cena and Mack, Matriarch Denali was seen on the phone yelling at someone. Then she just hopped in a car and disappeared for the rest of the day. Stur showed up two days later looking exhausted. He told everyone that he met a girl, but no one believes him.”
I shake my head, not believing that story either. Stur is the nicest, most responsible kid I’ve ever met. He wouldn’t just run off to go chase tail and leave his mom to worry.
“Cena called me a couple days ago,” Dinah goes on. “She asked me to make him a sleeping draught. When I asked why, she started crying and told me in confidence that Stur had been taken by Alpha Fitz’s lounge and held for ransom. There was no girl.”
My eyes widen in shock, terror and worry pumping through me as the pieces of the puzzle slip into place.
“Stur told his mom that the Fitz lounge claimed that our lounge owed them money. They’re going to keep taking members of our lounge and hurting them until we pay what’s owed. Stur told his parents that Matriarch and Patriarch Denali made him swear he wouldn’t say anything, or risk him and his family being kicked out of the lounge.”
I stare at her, openmouthed. How the fuck could my mat and pat be so cruel and selfish? I mean, I’ve always had my problems with them, but I never knew them to be bad alpha leaders of our lounge.
“Stur has been having nightmares since he got back, and Cena was hoping I could help him get some rest. He looked bad, Sin,” Dinah says, shaking her head. “Cena swore me to secrecy, but I have an awful feeling that what happened might not be over. I knew I had to come talk to you. Do you know what’s going on?”
I run a tired hand over my face and try to rein in my anger. I’m not sure what exactly to tell her. I’m still waiting for Zen’s guy to get me all the details, but I have the overwhelming urge to warn Dinah, especially if the lounge is in danger. Mat and pat are clearly trying to keep everything quiet, but that’s putting the lounge at even more risk. They can’t protect themselves if they don’t know what’s going on.
I blow out a breath. “You know how I thought getting locked up in here would void the contract my mat and pat signed with Alpha Bowen?”
Dinah nods, leaning in toward the streaked glass as I get ready to drop all kinds of information bombs on her.
“Well, unfortunately, I discovered that there was another aspect of that deal, which no one told me about. It seems my mat and pat got the lounge mixed up with some debt. Alpha Bowen was settling it as part of the agreement he made for me.”
Dinah brings up a hand to cover her mouth
as her face morphs into shock and then confusion. “So it’s true. Our lounge does owe money. But how?” she asks, just as puzzled by this information as I was.
I shake my head, at a loss. “I’m still piecing that together. It’s a bit difficult from here, but I should know all the details soon. I’m not sure how it happened or even how much, but my mat and pat both confirmed it when they came to visit. It seems that Alpha Bowen isn’t going to uphold his end of the contract until my mat and pat uphold theirs.”
I pause, and the next words I have to say feel like a hot coal searing my throat. “Dinah...I don’t think the lounge is safe right now. I was hoping to get the details and then figure out a plan, but if another lounge is taking people…” I trail off, but my meaning is clear. No one is safe.
“I have to tell the lounge,” Dinah announces hollowly.
“Yes, but you also need to be careful about who you tell and how,” I warn her. “My mat clearly wants this whole thing to be kept under wraps. If someone tries to call her out, she’s going to exile them and scramble around to shut people up. You guys can’t afford to have forces attacking you from the outside while also dealing with attacks from my mat within. You know what she’s capable of,” I tell Dinah, and her gaze grows dark as she nods her head.
Dinah’s parents were kicked out when she was young. She was raised by an aunt and uncle still in the lounge, and we all grew up being told her parents were bad and we should hate them. Dinah and I learned when we were teenagers that the story we had been told when we were little wasn’t true. Dinah’s mat was going to challenge mine, but my mat exiled her before she could.
We didn’t tell anyone, too afraid to suffer the same fate, but we’ve always wondered how many stories out there like Dinah’s exist because of my mat’s underhanded and power-hungry ways.
“How are they doing?” I ask softly, not liking the pain and anger in my friend’s features.
“Mom and dad are good,” she says with a smile. “Maybe Tark, Verity, and I will take an impromptu vacation out to visit them until our lounge is safe again,” she tells me.
“That’s a good idea.”
I’m so glad that Dinah was able to track her parents down and that they have an amazing relationship. I’m glad that she can go somewhere and be safe with her family, but her words haunt me.
Until the lounge is safe again.
The sentence runs through my mind on a loop, and I have no idea when it will happen or how to make it possible. If I had known my lounge was at risk, I would have never left. I would have tried to find another solution, but I’m in Nightmare Pen now, and I have to figure out a way to do something from here. I need to find Zen.
“How are you doing in here?” Dinah asks, pulling me from the plans I’m putting together in my mind.
“Good,” I shrug. “Food’s amazing. My squad is fierce. I have a successful shank business, and I’m about to launch something new that I think is going to be a huge hit,” I tell her. “There’s also a superhot prison guard.”
Dinah giggles and shakes her head at me. “Only you, Sinclair Denali, would thrive in a place like this.”
“I’m totally taking that as a compliment.”
“You should, Sin. You most definitely should.”
“Okay, go on. Get out of this place, go take your kid and your mate somewhere safe,” I tell her. “Wyve, Pya, Tracy, Hank and Forrest are who I would go to before you leave. They all know how to keep their mouths shut while looking out for others. They can spread the news quietly while you head out to see your parents.”
She puts her hand up against the plexiglass, and my throat gets tight as I do the same.
“Miss you, Sin,” Dinah tells me, her voice cracking with emotion.
I smile at her, but it feels sad. Forced. “Miss you too, Di. Only nine more months to go,” I tell her, and she nods and wipes a tear off her cheek. “You tell Verity that I have a year of tickles and tummy raspberries to make up for.”
Dinah laughs and pulls her hand away. I feel the loss of it immensely, even though the thick barrier keeps me from truly connecting or feeling the physical comfort I’m suddenly missing. I need to figure out a way to keep Dinah and her family safe. I need to figure out a way to save all of them.
We throw out tear-filled I love yous and then crack up when I accuse Dinah of fucking with my rep and making me look all soft. My heart lurches as we hang up our phones. I watch her leave, calling out blessings of protection to the heavens and promising any listening deity my eternal devotion if they’ll watch her back.
I release a heavy, stress-filled exhale and wipe my eyes before standing up. I walk to the door and bang on it to let the guard know I’m ready to go. I silently hope it will be Rook that steps forward on the other side. He’s annoying, but I’m in the mood to be annoyed. I need the same kind of distraction he gave me last time.
Disappointment wafts through me when the sliding peephole on the door opens and I see that it’s Sandbag still standing there. I bite down my groan. Anxiousness crawls up from my stomach to roost in my chest. Let’s hope he can get me back to my cell without “accidentally” tasing me.
His dead eyes look behind me, checking to see that my visitor has left, and then they snap back to me with a glare. You’re not done yet,” he grumps, and the peephole on the door slams shut.
“What the hell?” I call out. “I spoke to my visitor. She left!” I shout at him, turning around to motion to the empty visitor table.
Except I freeze when I realize that there’s someone sitting in the chair that Dinah just vacated. I stare at him with confusion, no recognition sparking in my brain. I stand at the door for a moment, unsure of what to do. Is this dude lost?
He picks up the receiver of the phone and motions with his head for me to do the same. The silver-feathered tail wagging behind the man is enough to get my hackles up. The expensive suit and briefcase he’s toting leads me to suspect that he’s here on official business. The question is, whose?
I sit down and pick up the receiver again, holding it up to my ear as I study him. He looks to be in his thirties, with a short silver beard and hair and darkly tanned skin. His eyes are so dark they’re nearly black, and despite how intense he looks, he flashes me a friendly smile. My heart pounds in my chest, but I try to remain impassive-looking.
“Sinclair Denali?”
“Who are you?” I ask.
“I’m Trex. Beta of the Bowen Lounge.”
Fuck. Alpha Bowen’s second-in-command? This can’t be good.
“What do you want?” I ask warily.
“I hope you’re being treated well, Miss Denali,” he says, instead of answering me.
A stupid blush creeps up my cheeks. Oh, if he only knew exactly how well one of the guards is treating me…
“It’s fine,” I say after clearing my throat awkwardly.
“Glad to hear that,” he says with another warm smile. I notice for the first time that his left incisor is capped silver. Either he lost it in some kind of fight or it’s a fashion statement. With this male, it could be either option, really.
“Miss Sinclair, I’m here today on official business from Alpha Bowen. He sent me to make sure you’re...taken care of.”
I snort. “I’ll just bet he did.”
“I can assure you, Alpha Bowen wants nothing but your wellbeing,” he tells me. “Which is why he was so confused as to why you would evade his attempts at freeing you from unjust persecution.”
Fuck, this guy either has balls the size of Mars or he knows that this room isn’t tapped.
“I wasn’t interested in being broken out,” I say. “And I have nothing to do with Alpha Bowen, so he’s not my concern.”
“I thought you might say something to that effect.” He grabs the clasps on his briefcase and flicks them open. Shuffling through it, he brings out a stack of bound papers. “I brought the contract that was made on your behalf, as proof that you do, in fact, have everything to do with Alpha Bowen.”
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He holds it up to the glass, and I see the blood signatures the contract is bound with and my name on it, right there before my eyes. I feel sick.
My angry green gaze flicks back up to the beta’s face. I shrug. “Like you said, it was made on my behalf. I never agreed to anything.”
The beta sighs and puts the contract away, like I’m being a difficult child. “Miss Sinclair, the contract is binding. When you’re released from this penitentiary, you will go to Alpha Bowen and become his mate.”
Fury heats up my body until my palm starts sweating where I grip the phone. “Guess it’s too bad my sentence just got prolonged then,” I lie, smirking over at him. “Alpha Bowen is gonna be waiting a long, long time.”
He narrows his eyes. “I see.”
“Do you?” I challenge. “Because from where I’m sitting, you and your alpha don’t know when to catch a hint. I don’t want him, and I sure as fuck don’t want to be his mate because of some contractual obligation that my fucked up matriarch drew up for her sole benefit.”
We stare at each other through the glass for a beat, and I let him see every inch of the righteous anger on my face. Fuck him. Fuck his alpha too for sending this male over to lecture me.
After a moment, he nods. “Alright, Miss Sinclair. I can see you need more time to adjust to the idea.”
“No, I don’t,” I quickly say, watching as he puts his things away and re-latches the briefcase. “I don’t need time. My decision has been made. I’m not going to him.”
The beta’s mouth stretches into a slow, arrogant smile. “Oh, you will, Miss Sinclair. You will.”
My beast’s instincts immediately rear up. Is he fucking threatening me?
He stands, and I stand up too, both of us still holding the phones. “Alpha Bowen has added unlimited funds into your prisoner’s account to ensure that you’re comfortable while you’re here,” he says, shocking the hell out of me. “He’s also arranged for you to have some luxuries added to your cell. He hopes you enjoy them.”