1. Chapter One

Chapter One

Beth

I sit up in bed, pulling the covers tighter around myself and watching as my eldest sister marches back and forth across her spare bedroom, taking my stuff out of boxes and putting it away. It's too early in the morning for a lecture, but I can tell that's where this little visit is headed. Anyone else would be too busy getting ready for work, or whatever, at eight a.m. to make time for tidying up and telling their sibling off, but not Catherine Moore.

Oh no. My biggest sister probably lectures her plants if they dare drop a leaf on her furniture.

"As long as you're staying with me, you're going to play by my rules," Catherine states as she starts hanging up my T-shirts in the tiny closet.

Who hangs up T-shirts? Like seriously?

Next, she'll be putting my bras and thongs on hangers.

She gives me a pointed look, as if she's waiting for some sign of agreement from me.

As usual, her big dark eyes are stone-cold serious.

When I don't say anything, she lets out a sigh.

"That means no making a mess, no going anywhere after class, and most importantly, no boys ."

I feel my cheeks flush over that last thing.

As if I could forget what landed me here.

"Believe me, boys are the furthest thing from my mind right now," I mumble.

Being drugged and tied to a chair in a closet after the last guy I went out with decided not to take no for an answer might have been enough to put me off men for life. I don't think I have it in me to play for the other team, so it looks like I'm on the path to a celibate lifestyle.

And all I'd really wanted was to get over my high-school ex.

Turns out there are worse guys out there.

Who would have guessed?

Catherine, my most sensible sibling, with her high-flying job and her sweet apartment in the city, is the last person I expected to come to my rescue. We've barely spoken to each other these last few years. She left home while I was an insufferable tween, and besides Christmas and Birthday messages on our socials, our interactions have been minimal.

She looks like a stereotypical business bitch, in her tailored skirt-suit, skyscraper heels and no-nonsense bobbed hairstyle. She's tall and slim and her hair is so dark it's almost black.

There's literally nothing that marks us out as sisters.

I'm on the short side, I'm curvier and my hair is a natural golden blonde. I wouldn't be caught dead in a skirt suit, and this room is going to look like a tornado hit it within a couple days, just from me living here.

She's not going to be happy about that.

I doubt this living arrangement is going to last.

There's a clock ticking down to Catherine throwing me out.

Hopefully, I'll be ready to go back to my dorm room by then.

She sits down on the edge of the double bed. "You don't have to go back to your course, Beth."

I blink at her. "Um, what?"

"I know it was your second choice," she admits, her dark eyes softening as she looks at me.

It wasn't my second choice. It was more like my sixth.

But there's no way she could possibly know that.

She wasn't around when I was trying to pick a career path that would make Mom and Dad proud.

"I don't …" I start, trailing off when she gives me a look.

"I know how Mom and Dad can be," she tells me. "And I know you're not exactly … suited … to work in a library."

"Hey, I'm way more organized than I look," I protest.

She gives me a wry smile, and I bite my tongue.

Okay. So, I'm messy and I'm kind of loud.

She has a point. I don't have to like it.

"I know a lot can change," she says. "We haven't seen each other in years. I just think … Don't rush back to class. You can take some time off. Get over what happened. Think about things. Okay?"

I nod slowly, though I know if I don't go back to my classes on Monday, I'll go insane.

"Marcus withdrew from the course," I remind her. "And he's not coming back to the city."

His father called to tell me that yesterday. He assured me that his son was under house arrest, and that he's watching over him personally before he gets sent to some disciplinary school in the new year.

That's only reassuring because I know Marcus's dad is a total badass.

Of course he is. He's an Alpha. He's also ex-military and built like a tank.

Any worries I might have had about Marcus coming after me faded after that phone call.

Catherine closes my closet and looks at me. "That's good, but it doesn't mean you need to jump straight into things. You can take a step back and give yourself time to reflect."

I don't really know what that means, but I nod as if I do anyway.

As nice as it might sound to step away from the course that I chose entirely so I could walk right into a profession that my parents would approve of, my feet are already itching like mad at the thought of being stuck in this apartment with my no-nonsense sister for the next couple of days.

"I'm pretty sure this weekend will be enough of a breather," I assure her.

She sighs softly. "Just, don't make any quick decisions. I'll be back around six. Try not to make a mess while I'm gone. There's plenty of food in the kitchen, so there's no need to go out for anything. I'll bring home pizza for dinner."

Right. Yeah. She has an actual job to get to now.

"I'll see you later, then," I say, as I slide deeper under the covers, laying back down because I have literally nothing else to do.

"There's an exercise bike in the hall closet if you feel need to burn off some energy," she adds. "Just make sure you set it down on one of the rugs if you use it. I don't want the hardwood flooring getting marked. I could lose my deposit."

As if I'm going to use an exercise bike. She really doesn't know me.

"Ha ha!" I mutter before I slip the covers over my head.

She leaves and I close my eyes.

I don't sleep.

The sound of the apartment door being locked confirms I'm alone now.

The dead silence that follows doesn't exactly help relax me, either.

I should have known going from a busy dorm building to a quiet apartment building would be an adjustment, but I didn't think about that when Catherine asked me to come stay with her.

My wrists start to itch, and I can't help but rub at the sore, rope-burned patches of skin.

It hurts, and the tingly feeling that makes me want to scratch doesn't even go away.

Ugh. It's just a phantom sensation left over from being tied up for a day.

Knowing that doesn't make me feel any better.

The rope burns on my wrists are barely noticeable, but if I stay still for too long, or I guess if I'm feeling anxious, it still feels like they're there, pinning me in place, and that's creepy enough to make me shudder.

Thankfully my jeans protected my ankles from the same fate, but my jaw still aches from the handkerchief gag he used on my mouth, too. I probably spent too long trying to bite through the material, or at least move it so I could get the knot at the back of my head around to the front where maybe, just maybe, I could undo it with my teeth.

Pain pills help, but they can't take away the memory of what happened.

I can't sleep, I didn't sleep last night, and I'm not going to sleep tonight.

Knowing that, I pull back the covers and force myself out of bed.

I make my way to the bathroom, and I take a long, hot shower.

Once I'm all fresh and clean, I go through the closet and find plain, lounging around clothes.

Stonewashed jeans and a loose fit cropped T-shirt.

I get dressed and decide to find out if my sister was lying about the food in the kitchen.

Catherine was a bit of a health freak when she lived at home.

Calling it food was a stretch for the stuff she used to eat.

I check the fridge and cupboards.

Ugh. Fat-free milk. Low-fat yogurt.

Oatmeal. Muesli. Raisins.

Salad is probably all there is for lunch, too.

Clearly, last night's Chinese take-out and tonight's pizza are the only edible meals I'm going to get around here unless I go shopping and bring back my own supplies.

She told me not to leave the apartment, and I know she didn't leave me a key.

That was probably on purpose. I'm not exactly known for following directions.

I doubt she'd forget that after half a dozen incidents when I was kid, and she was a teenager.

I went missing so many times that I know if I ever actually got kidnapped no one would have thought anything of it. A bit like the boy who cried wolf, I guess.

I was the girl who wandered off.

Lucky for me when I actually got kidnapped, a friend's mom came to my rescue.

Otherwise, who the hell knows how long I would have been trapped in that closet?

If that had gone on for much longer, I don't think I'd be okay now.

Thinking about it makes me itch to get out of the apartment.

I fleetingly think about leaving the building via the fire escape.

It would get me out of here, but it would also mean staying out until Catherine got home, because I know beyond a doubt, she would kill me if I left a window open so I could climb back in.

I'd never get away with that. I'm not sneaky enough. I'm too prone to talking about everything I've been doing. Since I've only been here one night so far, and I'm definitely not ready to go back to my dorm room, I should at least try to be on my best behavior.

I'll just have to make do with Catherine's super healthy food today.

Tomorrow, I'll go out to the nearest store.

Sighing, I grab a diet soda from the fridge, and I put a handful of raisins in a bowl. A second sweep of the cupboards reveals a bag of mixed nuts which I open and add a couple handfuls of to the top of my bowl of dehydrated grapes. I pour a low-fat yogurt on top, and I find the silverware drawer.

I eat breakfast in front of a reality TV show in Catherine's pristine living room.

It takes me all of three seconds to drip yogurt onto the plush rug under her coffee table.

Because of course the yogurt drips weird, flying over the hardwood flooring to land on the duck-egg blue rug instead of dripping directly downward.

Ugh. What a pain.

I set the bowl down carefully and go grab supplies to clean up the mess.

I manage not to drip again, but I do drop the spoon on the way back to the kitchen. Thankfully, it's easier to wipe the tiny drops of yogurt off the hardwood floor.

Once I'm done with breakfast, and the TV show is replaced by something less interesting, I'm left pacing around, wishing I had a key.

I'm locked in here.

That's kind of fucked up.

I mean, it's not as fucked up as being tied to a chair inside a closet that smells like feet, but it still makes me feel trapped, and that makes me anxious enough that I have to go open the window in my bedroom and stand by it, breathing in the cold air of the city to reassure myself that I'm not here against my will.

I called Catherine and told her what happened, hoping she'd take pity on me. I didn't even need to ask if I could crash at her place, she invited me before I was even done explaining what had happened.

I felt like a fifth, no, sixth wheel over at Secret's house. She has four mates, and I could tell I was in the way, even if she told me I could stay for as long as I wanted, I knew I couldn't.

I also knew I couldn't go back to my dorm room.

I've been alone in that room since Secret met her mates, and I know that's the only reason I accepted Marcus's study date offer. I didn't want to go back there alone again, when I could be somewhere else with company.

I knew it was a mistake, I just didn't realize what kind.

An ill-advised hook-up with a guy who is maybe kind of an asshole is one thing.

I had no idea he was more than an arrogant know-it-all.

I really should have checked his socials.

Secret showed me his Facebook page.

Considering how much hate his rants about women contained, I have no idea how he restrained himself from chopping me into tiny little bits when he had the chance. I'm lucky he only tried to brainwash me into learning how to be a good old fashioned traditional woman.

I shiver a little as snippets of that weird training movie play over in my thoughts.

I'll probably never forget a word of it, even though I desperately want to.

Closing the window, I tell myself it could have been worse.

It doesn't make me feel any better.

I don't know if I'll ever trust a guy again.

It's a familiar thought, but at least this time it's not because he broke my heart.