14. Elena

"Don't worry, he'll show,"Leisha reassures, patting my back before walking away. She's become kind of a big sister to me, and I hope she's right.

It's getting late, and it's the last night of our contract. Cillian promised me he would be here. What if my little panic attack was too much, and this is his way of cutting ties?

We weren't in a relationship, not a real one, anyway. He came to the club and paid money for my time, and maybe that's all he wanted. Aw, fuck, I'm about to cry on the main floor.

Nothing is a bigger turnoff than a weepy Omega. My suppressants still haven't come in, and I can just feel myself getting closer to my heat.

I don't have Declan's number to call him and ask him for the medication, and maybe now that his boss has lost interest, he has, too.

I thought that maybe tonight was the start of something new and exciting, that maybe I wouldn't need the suppressants from now on, nor would I have to worry about my upcoming heat.

Maybe it's best that I auction it off instead of having my little Omega heart broken any more than it currently is. I was so stupid to build my hopes up this high. Maybe I'm as na?ve and dumb as Anthony always said I was.

I wonder how much someone would pay for my heat?Maybe enough that I can buy a place to lie low while I figure this all out. Without Cillian here, I don't know that I'll find much joy in working here. He's the only Alpha I've connected with in this way, and I can't keep living on the edge, not knowing if one day my brother or one of his men is going to walk through that door.

If Cillian doesn't want more than a client relationship, then I have to move on. If Declan simply follows his boss's lead, then maybe we didn't have the connection I thought we did.

Instead of bawling my eyes out over this, I make my way upstairs and head to Travis' office.

My knuckles tap on the door, and the door quickly opens up in front of me.

"Elena, how are you? Is everything alright?" he asks.

I walk in, taking a seat in the chair in front of his desk. I feel like I've been a shitty employee since I've started here, so maybe this is a way to make up for only being with one Alpha since seeking employment.

"Yes. You had mentioned something about possibly selling my heat? I think I'd be interested in that."

"Cillian hasn't already offered?" Travis asks, a clearly confused expression on his face. I note that he mentions him by name, but I suppose he handles membership and should know everyone here.

"Um, no. But I think this is something I would like to do. I can feel my heat riding on me. Probably not days, but maybe a week or two from now," I tell him.

"If you're sure, I can absolutely open bidding. How many members would you like for your heat?" he asks, jotting the information down.

"Ideally, three Alphas, I'd think."

"Are you open to Betas?"

"Yes."

A bearded Beta who makes me laugh comes to mind, and my heart sinks. So I push his face to the back of my mind.

"Would you prefer on-site or off-site? And, just so you know, the club will provide a mediator no matter your choice."

"Off-site would be preferred."

Travis smiles and nods his head. "Great, I'll get this set up. It's an 80/20 split between you and the club. You absolutely may veto any bids. I'll keep you up to date, and we'll keep the bidding open for five days."

I stand and nod my head.

"Thank you."

"Are you sure everything's alright?"

"Yeah," I reply weakly.

"Take the rest of the night off and let us know if any of your symptoms increase in intensity. You know there are plenty of members who would be more than eager to help soothe you."

Too bad the members I want to soothe me are nowhere to be found.

"Thanks again," I say.

I grab the door, taking my time to close it behind me. I swear I hear him make a phone call as I'm shutting the door and mentioning how he has an urgent problem.

I can't imagine being a manager is a very fun gig.

I'm absolutely miserable in my room as my phone buzzes on my nightstand. My stupid heart hopes that it's Cillian, but it's not.

"Hello?" I answer.

"Is this Elena Amante?"

"It is."

"Your prescription is ready for pickup," the caller says in a strained voice.

"It's 11 p.m."

"Yes, we've adjusted our hours to deal with the overflow of prescriptions coming in. Would you be able to pick it up tonight?"

"Yeah, I'll be right over."

The line goes dead, and I roll my eyes. I'm never putting in a prescription with that pharmacy ever again. I guess I won't have to. I'm going to sell my heat and make enough money to really hide. Maybe the Pacific Northwest or Texas. I still don't know what the fuck I'm going to do when I get there, but it's better than feeling as alone as I do here while constantly looking over my shoulder.

I can't do this anymore.

I'm still in my dress for the night, but throw on a sweater before leaving the club. The pharmacy is only a few blocks away, and it's late. It'll be harder to distinguish who's who, anyway.

Part of me hopes that Declan is looking out for me, but I don't hold my breath. I'll need to make this quick.

Roger opens the door for me but frowns.

"Should you be walking around this late?"

"I'm just running out to get my medicine. I should be back in twenty minutes."

He looks around like he wants to offer to escort me but knows he has a job to do.

"Call me if you have any issues."

"Thanks, Roger." I give him a smile as I wrap my arms around myself and begin my trek to the store.

At least with my suppressants, I won't feel completely hopeless. Maybe I'll feel somewhat normal again and start having more rational thoughts—unlikely.

The store echoes with a ding as I enter, walking to the back where the pharmacy is located. I'm nearly down the aisle when I see the silver-plated gate covering the desk, and my heart sinks. I back up slightly, ready to spin around and run back to the club. But when I turn around, I smack into a large chest, one with a very familiar scent.

"No. No. I'm not going back. Logan, let me go."

I push off his chest, and he shakes his head.

"I'm not taking you back to Anthony," he vows, and I notice the extreme difference in his cadence. Logan is Irish. It's clear as day with the time I've spent with Declan.

I stare at him wide-eyed, my flight-or-fight response kicking in as I rear up my knee and hit him hard in the balls. My knee connects with his flesh. My leg hurts, but I don't waste a second in getting away.

Logan hunches over, grabbing his privates as I make a run for it. My heels click against the sidewalk as I attempt not to break an ankle. My breaths are uneven, and my cheeks feel hot as I round a corner.

Biggest mistake.

Large arms wrap around me, and a sting hits my neck.

"Forgive me, blondie," the voice murmurs. I immediately recognize it as Declan, and the betrayal I feel is bone deep. Tears stain my cheeks, and I wonder what they're going to do to me.

I don't know what situation I just found myself in, but it might be a far worse fate than my brother had ever wished for me.

My vision goes hazy, and I try to fight the Beta who's holding me up.

"I knew you were a fighter, Elena. That's good. It'll be okay, I promise."

My heart sinks, and tears flow from my eyes. This is everything I ran from, everything I didn't want. I just wanted to be free. I wanted to be loved.

Now, who knows what they're going to do with me? Has Logan been planning to kidnap me this whole time? Did Cillian set this whole thing up, or is Declan going against his wishes? What if Cillian got close to me this whole time just for me to let my guard down? My thoughts are so jumbled, and I can barely lift my hand to smack Declan when a pissed off Logan approaches us.

"That wasn't very nice, princess," he scolds before tossing me over his shoulder, and whatever Declan injected me with finally makes me pass the fuck out.

I'm not sure where I expected to wake up. Perhaps a moldy, slimy dungeon or inside of a shipping container. But everything surrounding me is complete opulence.

The bed underneath me is soft and covered in Egyptian cotton. There are no windows in the room, but all the lighting is a soft, warm white, which comes from a few lamps and one golden chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

The furniture is modern, the bedframe a sleek black, that's barely raised off the floor. Along with the dresser and desk on the side wall, there's a black chaise in the corner with a soft navy blue blanket draped over it.

I tentatively run my hand over the spot where I was injected with… something, and I'm happy that there seems to be no pain.

How long was I out? And where the fuck am I?

I stand up, stumbling for a moment before I find my balance. When I look down, I realize I'm still in the clothes that I went to the pharmacy in, sans my high heels. Those have been removed and are nowhere to be seen in the room.

There are french doors on the other side of the room, which I assume leads to the rest of the house. When I go to turn the handle, it, of course, doesn't budge.

Feeling pissed off, hungry, and devastated, I do what any unmedicated, kidnapped Omega would do, I start shouting while banging on the door.

"Hey! Let me out!" I yell as I use my balled fist to bang on the door.

No one answers, and instead of stopping, I lie on the floor and use the heel of my foot to hit the door repeatedly. If anything, the consistent banging will annoy my captors enough to come up here to talk to me.

I, at the very least, deserve a fucking explanation.

I'm too pissed to get upset and cry. Instead, I just keep banging the door with my foot repeatedly.

Time feels like it's flying by, but with no phone or clock I'm not sure how much, but I'm guessing it's been at least an hour.

The knob turns, and I scurry away from the door on my butt until my lower back hits the frame of the bed.

I'm not sure who I expect to walk in. The most likely suspect was Declan. But before me stands Cillian's evil twin, Finn, and he does not look pleased to see me.