5. Placebo Effect

Chapter Five

PLACEBO EFFECT

Indy

M y heart races as I cling to my comforter, cowering in the corner of my stall while my body begins to uncontrollably shake.

It’s been torture, the last few weeks of waiting, counting down the minutes until I find out what fate has in store for me. Assuming that since it has been weeks, it can’t be anything good.

Four and a half days of the worst heat I have ever experienced, hours and hours of alphas rutting until my body finally had enough.

I blacked out relatively early, and I don’t remember much of what happened before that, and nothing of what took place after until I woke up in the infirmary naked and alone.

The first time I tried to move, I knew something wasn’t right. My body ached in ways it never had after a heat, and once I could open my eyes without the fluorescent light stinging them, I saw why.

I was covered in bruises.

Purple and blue handprints, yellowing fingerprints. They were all over me and when I attempted to sit up, pain radiated through my core, shooting up into my stomach and down my legs. It was so bad I actually yelped.

Thankfully, Scarlett was there.

She’s one of the lucky ones from my generation, if you want to call her that.

Shortly before they moved us, maybe a week or so, she found out she was pregnant.

Scarlett and I were born a few days apart, though she wasn’t born here and was almost breeding age when she arrived. They were scared, she and her mother had been through a horrific ordeal, so my mom took them under her wing. Our mothers had been close, we had neighboring stalls and were on a similar schedule, and when her mother died, my mom all but adopted Scarlett. They split us up after she was gone, but we saw each other briefly each time we went into heat—she’s been bred just as long as I have, unfortunately with the same results. Up until just over a month ago.

I was relieved to see a familiar face, the only friend I have in here being the one to greet me shortly after I woke up, but it was surprising.

Generally, once an alpha finds out he successfully bred one of us, he moves through the process of taking them home relatively quickly and they’re never heard from again. Seeing Scarlett had a second wave of fear rolling through me and once she tended to the wounds that turned out to be far less serious than they felt, she explained the terrible situation she was in.

The alpha—who she recently discovered was actually a Harden—died unexpectedly, and Scarlett never made it off the property.

She’s working in the infirmary full time now, helping the way her mother did, but she didn’t go into much more than that for fear of getting either one of us in trouble.

Conversation is limited and closely monitored, and certain topics are off the table. Like dead alphas who carry the family name.

I’m grateful she’s the one who’s been tending to me.

It’s brought a small sense of normality to my situation. Seeing her every day, chatting a little here and there about some of what I’ve missed or how she’s been feeling. Scarlett even snuck in a book to read to me when she had the extra time. If we were anywhere but the ranch, I’d say what we have is akin to some of what my mother talked about from her short time on the outside, genuine friendship.

And maybe that is what we have, it’s just sullied by this waking hell we call home.

My eyes dart toward the door as hurried footsteps head in my direction.

Things have been quiet since they brought me back to this stall.

No herder or counter, the only visitor being Scarlett, checking my progress, and a few days ago, collecting samples for testing.

“Indy,” Scarlett whispers as she quickly enters, looking over her shoulder before pulling the door closed and heading straight for me. “They’re coming.”

My blood runs cold at her words, words I’ve been terrified to hear, but in the back of my mind I knew I would.

I’m not pregnant.

I can tell it didn’t take, and she’s here to confirm it.

“When?” My eyes dart behind her, waiting to hear more footsteps any second. “How much time?”

“A few minutes at most.”

Swallowing thickly, I watch as Scarlett crouches in front of me and produces a syringe from the pocket of her dress.

Simple, brown, plain as the dirt on the floor but looking at it now, I wish, just once, I’d been able to wear something like that.

We’re naked ninety nine percent of the time, only allowed any type of clothing when we were in school, or if there’s some sort of event that the Harden’s held, and even then, it was barely more than a slip.

To be envious of little more than a burlap sack given to pregnant omegas to show they’re off limits is ridiculous, but I am. There’s so much I haven’t done, so many things I dreamt of doing. Everything my mother hoped for—that I hoped for—it’s gone.

All gone.

Thirty-two years have come to an end, and not only do I have nothing to show for it, there won’t be anything left to say I was ever here at all.

“I’m sorry, Indy,” Scarlett says with a sniffle. “I was hoping for?— “

“Me, too.” My pulse is pounding in my ears, almost drowning out the sound of my own voice. “I was, too.”

She gives me a sad smile as a tear rolls down her cheek. “I hate this.”

I just nod and try to smile back because there’s nothing else to say, not about this. We both know what’s coming, we know what this looks like, and how it’s going to feel. We saw it with our mothers and now Scarlett will see it with me.

I hope they don’t make her deal with my body.

The thought is silly when you really think about it. We’ve seen so much worse, and I can only pray that if they do force Scarlett to do that, at least she’ll know I’m finally at peace.

“I took what I could find.” Scarlett reaches for my forearm, laying it across her knees then patting the crease of my elbow, searching for a good vein. “They keep anything lethal locked up, but I was able to mix a couple of things that should help.”

A tear drops onto my skin as she uses an alcohol swab to clean the area and for some reason, it makes me laugh.

“Indy,” she scolds as she looks behind her. “They’ll hear you.”

I shake my head and cover my mouth as I start to giggle uncontrollably. “I’m going to die, and you’re worried about making sure there aren’t any germs where you’re going to stick me.”

Scarlett blinks watery eyes at me, a look of embarrassment creeping into her features. “I just?— “

Without warning, I reach out and pull her to me, hugging the only person I have left tightly, my laughter fading as I close my eyes and try to soak her in.

It’s been so long since I’ve hugged someone, since anyone hugged me back, and if this is my last chance for something as simple as a gentle touch from one person to another, I have to take it.

“Don’t forget me,” I whisper as tears prick my eyes.

Scarlett shakes her head as she squeezes me tight. “Never.”

The sound of heavy boots entering the stable quickly ends the hug, both of us turn toward my door before she grabs my arm again.

“They know I’m here. They wanted me to come ahead of them to give you the results.”

“Thoughtful.” I watch as she taps my vein, flexing my fingers to help the best I can. “And stupid.”

She snorts as a few more tears fall. “I know. It’s like they forget we have brains or something.” Scarlett looks up at me and smiles softly. “Ready?”

I nod and without hesitation, she sticks the needle in my arm, pushing the plunger all the way down as fast as she can before capping it and putting it back in her pocket. She rubs the spot a little then bends my arm at the elbow, moving it some to work whatever poison she injected through my system quicker.

“It’s not going to be instant, like I said, they keep the really strong stuff locked up, but it should hopefully work pretty fast.”

My eyes search her face then move toward the door as I hear the footsteps stop on the other side. “What… What’s it going to do?”

“It’s going to get you high.”

I grin and shake my head. Sometimes I forget Scarlett hasn’t lived here as long as I have. That’s such a strange way to describe it but it’s no less appreciated.

“You’ll get a body buzz but it’s not enough to stop you from feeling…” She swallows hard and swipes at her tears. “Your mind will get cloudy; you’ll probably nod in and out some. Once it kicks in all the way you’ll get really tired.”

Then I’ll fall asleep and never wake up.

She doesn’t have to say it, but the words are there.

That’s really the entire point. The pain can’t be stopped but it can be somewhat tolerable until the end, and that’s what she wanted for me. It’s why Scarlett is taking such a big risk by bringing it here before they come in. It was important to her to keep me from going through what either of our mothers did, and while it can’t be stopped or even completely numbed, high is the next best thing.

“Sorry about this, Red,” the herder says as he walks into the stall. “None of us wanted to see you go out this way.”

It’s all I can do not to roll my eyes at his line of bullshit.

Not one person on staff actually gives a damn about any of us, and I have no doubt that they get some sick level of enjoyment when things have to be handled like this.

Scarlett gets to her feet and scurries toward the door as a few more men walk in, men I’ve never seen before—I can tell by their nauseating scents—who are dressed in what looks like some sort of strange plastic, hooded suit with goggles hiding their faces.

“String her up,” the herder orders as the counter walks in with a clipboard. “Do your best to make it look like it was that guy who’s been in the news. We don’t need anyone else poking around if they find her, not after the last two. Copycat him if you can throw them off.”

What?

I don’t understand.

I know they beat my mother.

For hours she endured what could only be described as torture, but they didn’t bother doing much more than that before they broke her neck. They don’t have to do that; it would be just as effective and make the same kind of point to humanely euthanize an omega who isn’t able to get pregnant if they really think they should be killed at that point but that’s where the even darker side of the ranch comes into play. The men here, they aren’t humane, and they don’t have a merciful bone in their bodies.

More often than not, they abuse us, physically or worse, every day we’re here and that continues until one of the only two outcomes take place. When it ends with an unproductive omega, their sick and perverse fantasies really come out to play but I’ve never heard of anything like this.

Not that I hear much, but I’ve never heard of them doing more than beating someone to death.

This is not the same.

I was prepared for that, ready to spend my last few hours on earth being pulverized but this? This copycat thing? I have no idea what that means.

And I don’t get time to figure it out because before the questions even form, one of the strange men has my hands bound in front of me, the extra length of the rope thrown up and over a rafter, and I’m being hoisted in the air until my shoulders pop.

The herder walks around me slowly, his eyes scanning me head to toe. “Rough her up first but keep it minimal, they aren’t usually bruised up too badly. Avoid the major organs and throw in some superficial lacerations. Don’t go overboard but make it convincing. Harden has dealt with the cops twice now and he’ll lose his shit if we make it a third.”

Scarlett forces a smile, her lashes glittering with tears as she blows me a kiss before slipping out the door.

And as soon as it closes, one of the strange men comes directly into my line of sight, cocks his fist back, and punches me in the face.

My head snaps back on my neck and my vision goes white, and the taste of copper fills my mouth. I’m hit again almost immediately, whipping my face toward the right followed by a quick left before my chin drops to my chest.

A fist slams into my ribs once then twice, stealing my breath in a whoosh of air. My lungs fight to expand while I desperately gasp for air and just when I feel them start to fill, pain lances through my stomach.

I lurch forward as it happens again, the unmistakable feel of metal against my skin, slicing through flesh and muscle in an excruciatingly long movement. One that’s emphasized by a hard hit from bare knuckles against my lower back.

The assault continues, the men slashing my arms and legs, yanking my hair, and punching different areas until my body goes limp.

Whatever Scarlett gave me finally begins to work, that body buzz replacing the pulsing pain coursing through me, almost warming what began to grow cold. I can’t keep my head up anymore, can’t move it at all, and my eyes won’t even try to open anymore.

My body hangs limply from the rope, dangling in the center of the stall like some twisted decoration while the men start to laugh just before things start to fade.

Good.

Maybe this is finally it.

The end I was so afraid of has finally come and…

With a bone-breaking thud, I fall to the floor, the air knocked out of me once again, and this time my breathing turns into shallow panting and a pained gurgle.

The rope tugs at my wrists and I can feel them start to drag me, pulling my body along the dirt floor until the texture changes to a hard, crinkly plastic similar to what the men were wearing. I’m rolled a few times before I’m bound at the ankles, midsection, and shoulders, and then there’s more dragging before I’m hit with a blast of bitter cold.

I’m outside.

For the first time in weeks, I’m outside, but I’m unable to appreciate it because my body is tossed and jostled before slamming into something hard.

The sound of an engine meets my ears, the revving both close and far away, then I’m being jostled back and forth, the bumping and swaying in time with my consciousness.

It feels like forever before it stops, and when it does, my eyes flutter for the last time, catching a glimpse of the blackest sky blanketed with a steady downpour of thick, white snow.

Then I’m falling.

My back hits the ground and I start to roll, the plastic around me coming loose while I hit what feels like rocks and branches until I slam into something hard, finally coming to a stop in a pit of the vilest smells I’ve ever experienced.

This is it.

The cold seeping into my bones, the pain fading to a low hum as a heavy sleep falls over me.

This is the end I was so afraid of, and I can’t help but be angry that it wasn’t actually finished.

I’ve been left to die, and that’s so much worse than being killed by the very people who brought me into the world.

I can only hope Mother Nature is kinder and more merciful than they’ve ever been.

But, once again, I know I’m not that lucky.