Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

CERENITY

I feel like shit. Groaning, I stretch, freezing when I feel soft sheets against my skin. Blinking, I wince at the headache pounding behind my eyes, and last night rushes back to me all at once.

Sitting up, my arm is tugged, making me look back as I hiss in surprise. There's liquid dripping into my vein, but I don't know what it could be.

Am I being drugged right now?

My breaths come out in small puffs, making me realize that I'm freaking the fuck out, and that's a great way to end up dead.

I would still be sleeping if I was being drugged, I muse. I also wouldn't feel like shit either or be in this nice of a room. It's all done in dark colors, the blinds are drawn, but as I shift I realize I'm not wearing any panties and I'm wearing someone else's shirt.

What the fuck happened last night?

"Shh, you're safe, little omega," says a deep rumbly voice. My gaze snaps over to a large man sitting in an oversized chair in the corner of the room who seems to be staring at me.

That's not creepy at all.

"What's going on?" I rasp before a coughing fit hits me. I can't breathe as I bend over in pain. God, everything hurts. Being hit with a truck fucking hurts, and fuck, the rats.

My body is shaking as tears escape from the remembered terror, and I turn my head so my long, tangled blue hair hides them.

"Fuck, here's some water," the alpha says quickly, standing. My body is coiled tightly with anxiety. I don't know this alpha, even if the tattooed sleeves up his arms and hair piled in a haphazard man bun look vaguely familiar.

So many people come through my club, at some point the faces meld into one other.

A cool glass is pressed into my hand, and I force myself to wrap my fingers around it. Still, I almost drop it because my hands are shaking so badly.

The need to drink is so strong because my throat is on fire, so as soon as there's a break in my coughing, I take a careful sip. I'm terrified of accidentally inhaling the water, and even my lips hurt as the cool liquid passes through them.

God, my poor body is so fucked up.

"Good girl," the alpha rumbles approvingly as I drink, and I continue to hide my face.

"Where am I?" I ask once I pull away the glass to hold it in my lap. All I can think about is Auggie and how worried he'll be. I may appear calm, but the second I know what my next move is, I'm fucking out of here.

Omegas who don't think, find themselves dead and buried. I didn't survive last night just to die because I was impatient and afraid. No fucking way.

"You're in my home," the alpha says, making me turn to look up at him. He's obnoxiously good looking, while I'm pretty sure I smell from diving against my will in the dumpster. "Want to tell me why you were tossed away like yesterday's garbage behind my gym?"

"Want to tell me who the fuck you are?" I grouse. Well, so much for being careful.

The alpha snorts in amusement as he folds his arms over his chest. His tattoos crawl up his skin in vibrant color, and I find myself admiring them for a moment before reminding myself to focus.

My fingers curl into my palm as I dig my nails into the skin. Pain helps to push away some of the fog I'm feeling, giving me something else to focus on other than the thumping in my head.

"I'm Tommy Madden," he says as if that explains everything. There's mischief in his emerald-green eyes and things start to click into place as I stare at him.

Tommy's fighters participated in Aisling and Wren's fundraiser at my club, though Jasper, Aisling, and Auggie mostly spoke together to coordinate everything. He's also Arthur's boss according to Xavier.

"So you're telling me you're responsible for my being here. That's fucking fantastic. Your little underling decided that selling me and trying to kill me would be a great option in retaliation for hurting his manhood. You really should teach your people not to touch things that don't belong to you. I know you're criminals and all, but I didn't know you were rapists and sex traders too," I snarl.

Tommy's eyes darken at my words to a deep moss green, and I let go of the mostly empty cup, so I have both hands in case I need to defend myself.

"Do you often move into defense positions around alphas?" he growls, but almost in a curious way. "Arthur didn't rape you, which I only know because I had a nurse look you over, since you were so out of it earlier. I don't work in the skin trade, Cerenity."

"So you do know who I am," I say softly, not understanding his last words. "I have a life to get back to. Am I a prisoner?"

"Prisoner, no," he grunts almost hesitantly. "I need to deal with Arthur today, as I had no idea he was going to do something like this. I need to know what happened though."

"I have people I need to call," I insist because he didn't answer me. "Tommy, I can't stay here."

My hand moves to rub my forehead as tears begin to prick my eyes. I feel awful, and that's what I'm blaming this weakness on. I don't cry in front of people.

It just gives people the blueprint on how to hurt you. I swear he's being purposely obtuse, though.

"Your head has to hurt right now," he says, making me roll my eyes. "I have pain reliever here. The IV is just to help with your dehydration. My sister is the nurse who has been taking care of you, but I set up your infusion myself."

"You did this?" I ask as I take the pills. Tommy picks up the empty cup and refills it with a pitcher of water on the nightstand before handing it back to me. Well, I guess if he wanted to kill me he would have already. However, a small kindness does not make up a good alpha.

My mother taught me those very hard lessons. Popping the pills into my mouth after I glance at the bottle it came from again to confirm they're what he said they were, I swallow them down with some water.

Here's to hopefully not feeling as if there's a heavy metal concert happening between my ears.

"I helped fix you up," he confirms. "Arthur came to me complaining about an issue with a strip club owner, and I told him to take care of it. I didn't ask enough questions, so I feel partially responsible for this."

"You gave him the go ahead to crash my car, chase me down the road, and knock me out?" I ask incredulously, scooting away from him. I may very well need to make a run for it, but I doubt I'll get very far.

Mafia bosses are paranoid as fuck, so I'm sure his house is locked down tight. "They stripped me, hurt me, cut me, and beat the fuck out of me."

Remembering how Arthur hit me explains why my face feels puffy and it hurts to talk. Did he strangle me at some point? Memories are moving in and out, feeling hazy yet clear.

Trauma doesn't always make sense, though, so I stop trying to unravel it all for now.

Tommy swallows hard as he looks down at me, shaking his head. "You know I didn't, babe," he mutters.

"Don't call me that. You don't fucking know me, and I don't know what you do or don't know. I also have no idea what you have a blanket approval on," I yell at him, immediately regretting it as I feel a cough threatening to bite at me.

God, clearing my throat hurts too, and I'm reminded of how much I screamed in the van.

Maybe ignorance is bliss.

"Hey, where did you go?" he asks, bending down to look me in the eyes.

"None of your fucking business," I rasp. "You should have better control of your people."

Tossing the small amount of water in his face, I pull off the tape systematically to pull out the needle. How hard can it be?

"Wait, Cerenity," he begins, making me shake my head as I yank out the needle. "Goddamn it, you need that!"

"I need a lot of things," I mutter, scooting to the opposite side of the bed to push myself up. The world spins around me and my ears ring, and I feel myself fall back to sit. "Nope, that doesn't work for me."

"What doesn't work for you?" a deep voice asks, his breath against my cheek as I squeal and lunge to get away from Tommy. "Not so fast, Bluebell."

Grabbing me around the waist, he drags me with a grunt across the bed, tossing me over his shoulder. The droplets that were on his face fly as he shakes his face like a dog, which unfortunately also tosses me around.

My stomach lurches, making me gag as he walks.

"Fuck, I'm a dick. I'm sorry," he says quickly, moving me until he's cradling me in his arms. "I don't know what the fuck to do with an injured omega."

Gasping as I try not to puke, I shudder. "Then let me go, you overgrown Neanderthal," I wail. It's not the growl it usually would be because I feel like utter shit.

"I can't," he mumbles as he continues to walk into the bathroom. "You're a mess of bumps and bruises, and I have to clean up Arthur's mess."

His words make me freeze as I realize he's walking me to the bathroom. Is he going to drown me?

Screaming, I hit him across the face and struggle harder as Tommy yells.

"What the fuck? Cerenity, what did I say?! Stop!" he yells.

I know he knows my name because of our work with The Omega's Haven, but nothing about this is adding up. I get him to drop one of my legs, which makes me painfully aware of how little I'm actually wearing, but I still manage to get a decent kick in. Struggling and twisting, I almost lose my shirt as well before I'm free and running for the door.

"Why are you so difficult?" he roars as he stomps after me.

"Drowning an omega that you saved is counterproductive!" I yell back at him as I catch myself on the door frame.

"What?! I wasn't going to drown you," Tommy groans, throwing up his arms in annoyance. "Cerenity! You're going to hurt yourself."

"Eh, I'm sure I'll live through worse," I grunt as I push myself away from the door to keep walking. "I'm out."

"You can't leave," he says, following me down the hallway.

"Give me one good reason why I can't?" I ask, glancing over my shoulder as I walk. My flight response is screaming at me, I'm exhausted, and I just want Auggie.

Is that too much to ask for?

"You're practically naked under my shirt," he points out. "My house is also locked up tight, and the only one who controls it is me. And?—"

I don't hear another word other than I'm trapped as I stumble down the stairs to the main floor.

"So I am a prisoner," I mutter even as he continues to speak. "Fucking awesome."

"What? No! Stop putting words in my mouth, you infernal woman," Tommy groans. Blowing out a breath, I struggle to continue down the stairs on trembling legs that suddenly don't want to work.

I'm pushing myself too hard, but I don't know what else to do.

"If you're going to insist on going downstairs, can I help you at least?" he asks. I ignore him, dropping to my ass and pushing myself down each step, because I don't need his stupid help.

"Cerenity!"

"Don't say my name," I tell him. "I'm sore as fuck, and still don't really understand how I'm here. The end of the night is really hard to remember."

"Bum scooting down the fucking stairs isn't going to help how sore you are," Tommy complains. "You're so damn stubborn. Fine, I was working at one in the morning with my associate, Jasper, who you know, and we heard screaming. Someone, who I assume is Arthur, threw you into the dumpster outside my gym and left you. We fished you out of there. Your arms were tied behind your back and they closed the top of the container. There's no way you would have been able to get out."

Stopping my bum scooting, I carefully turn to look up at him. Ugh, my neck hurts and he's really fucking tall. Tommy crouches down on the step he's standing on as if realizing my issue. I don't want to feel even a twinge of gratitude toward him right now, and he's fucking that up.

"So you pulled me out of the dumpster that Arthur and his dickhead friends threw me into?" I ask, hating how weak my voice sounds.

"Yes, and I need you to tell me what they looked like so I can take care of them all," he growls. "You can't leave until they're all dead, Bluebell."

"Why do you keep calling me that?" I ask, shaking my head.

Tommy smirks as he tugs on my tangled hair. I'm sure it looks disgusting and there's probably garbage in it. God, this is what my life has come to.

"Your hair is a very interesting color," he teases me. "Now why can't you stay like a good girl?"

Rolling my eyes despite the way my pussy contracts and slicks, I shake my head. I ignore how Tommy's pupils expand with desire, because I'm not the slightest bit desirable right now. Biology is a liar.

"I'm not a dog, Tommy," I remind him. "I'm not going to roll over and let you rub my tummy for saving me. You also live in Chicago, and that's not anywhere near where I live. I have a life and Augustine to get back to."

"Is that your mate?" he asks, eyes narrowing.

I'm tempted to lie, because it may help push him along toward releasing me before letting go of the idea. Mafia men have no problems taking what doesn't belong to them.

"He's my best friend and family," I tell him. "He's got to be losing his damn mind. We live together, and I didn't come home."

Lunging forward, he scoops me up into his arms, walking me down the rest of the stairs.

"I'll look into getting in touch with him, but I have a meeting soon. You need a shower, because you smell like hot garbage," Tommy says, wrinkling his nose as he throws open the door to a bathroom downstairs.

Flushing because he's not wrong, I open my mouth as he turns on the water and then shoves me inside. Gasping, I drop onto my ass because my legs are wobbly, but it effectively makes me forget that he didn't say he would definitely call Auggie.

"Ow!" I yell at his back as he walks out.

"I never said I was a gentleman, Bluebell! Take a fucking shower!" he yells over his shoulder as he continues on.

"Fucking alphas," I mutter, pulling off the wet T-shirt and tossing it out the open shower door. I let the cold water hit my skin as I get the willpower to slowly stand. My legs are wobblier than a newborn horse right now, alerting me to the fact that I'm in no shape to run away again.

Sighing, I shut the door next to me, reaching for the shower faucet to warm up the temperature of the water. I may as well be clean before I start plotting my way out of here. There's body wash, shampoo, and conditioner in this shower stall in a flowery scent, making me wonder if he has women over here often.

Deciding I don't care, I squeeze out some body wash and start on scrubbing my body. There's liquid stitches on the worst of the knife and glass cuts on my body, so I clean around them, even as I wince.

"We've had an adventure, my girl," I mutter to myself as I wash my body.

"Do you make it a habit of talking to yourself?" Tommy asks, making me yelp in surprise. I'm proud that I didn't scream, because that would have been unacceptable and really embarrassing. "Here's a towel and some of my clothes to change into. I'll be back later."

"Wait!" I yell out as I band my arms over my breasts and pussy. The glass is a special glazed texture so I know he can't see me, but having him on the other side is uncomfortable for me. "Do I need to worry that your mate is going to beat the shit out of me for being here?"

Not that I plan to be here for long, but I want to know if anyone else is going to be around so I can convince them to let me out of here.

"No mate, Bluebell," he grunts. "There's food in the kitchen. Make sure to eat whatever you want. Don't get any ideas about leaving. If you're a bad girl, I'll electrify all the handles."

Fuck, could he really do that? With that he's gone, and I close my eyes in frustration. I want to throw a tantrum, but again, I don't want to show weakness or how pissed off I am. Since he's gone, I sit on the tiled floor to shampoo and condition my hair, because my muscles are shaking from the effort of standing.

God, I feel so weak. Opening my eyes, I work on cleaning my hair and detangling it with my fingers. The water is cold by the time I finish washing it while on my knees. Leaning into the stream of water is the best I can do right now.

A huge yawn makes my jaw crack as I pull myself up to turn off the water. Opening the shower door, I snag the towel and dry off. Stepping out, I forget that I was beaten up before I look at the mirror.

It should be fogged up, but the alpha turned on the fan before he left.

I wish he hadn't.

My lip is split, and my right eye is swollen and dark with a bruise. It's kind of a miracle I can see anything out of it. There's cuts all over my body both from the knife the men used on me and the broken glass.

Picking up the long-sleeved T-shirt Tommy left me, I find myself wishing it was Augustine's. My soul is crying out for him. I know he's got to be a mess right now, and my body is a time bomb as I get closer to my heat.

A lone tear slips down my face as I pull on the shirt. Even the boxers the alpha left me are giant, and I finally growl and leave them on the counter.

What I wouldn't do for panties right now.

I can't believe my body is reacting to the alpha dick's words earlier. I'm fiercely annoyed by it, because I'm rarely moved by a "good girl". I'm going to blame it on my injuries. I'm vulnerable and in pain, otherwise I'd never perfume for some stranger.

Yep, good try.

Shaking myself, I leave the towel on the floor, forgetting about it entirely when I see a new toothbrush on the sink. Groaning, I open it with shaking hands. My mouth feels like something died in it and probably smells the same way. The scent of mint permeates the air as I open the toothpaste, and I moan as I wet my brush and shove it in my mouth to clean my teeth.

God, it's akin to a religious experience. I would dance in place if I knew it wouldn't hurt right now, but my muscles wouldn't appreciate it. Finally, my teeth are clean, my tongue scrubbed of the gross feeling of scum, and I rinse and spit happily.

So much better.

Yawning again, I put everything away and look down. I really want to pick up the towel, but it hurts too much. Slowly, I bend, whimpering as every ache in my body makes itself known. I can't see a hamper, so I hang up the towel, noticing that Tommy took my wet shirt when he came in.

He's such an odd alpha. I don't really know what to think about him. All I know is that things aren't adding up, and I need to know why. I drift out of the bathroom to explore, testing every window and door, grumbling as I notice that there are cameras all over and the only way to unlock the doors is by fingerprint.

"Paranoid fucking alphas," I mutter, yawning again.

Shaking my head, I notice there are a few blankets on the end of a sofa, and it looks inviting. I won't go back upstairs right now, because the idea of climbing those stairs makes me want to cry. Climbing up on the sofa, I pull all four blankets over me, burrowing underneath them.

Maybe I'll find a knife when I wake up and stab him until he lets me go. Yup, that sounds like a good idea for a more awake Cerenity.

My eyes are too heavy to keep open, especially since it's dark and warm under my blankets. It was much too bright while I was walking through the house. If I want to figure out a way out, I have to be able to run when I find the right time.