Page 61 of Misted
I pull at the ropes but they tighten around my wrists, pulling at my skin. I release a frustrated breath and try kicking my ankles or slipping them free. The rope binds them in an unbreakable noose.
Desperation gnaws at my gut like a trapped, injured animal needing out. Despite being wrapped in bandages, the wounds in both my arms burn and pulse, but I don’t stop pulling. I don’t even care that both my dress’s sleeves were torn so I’m sleeveless with all my scars visible for the world to see. The only thing I care about is my damn fix.
The door opens, and I freeze, my breathing disoriented. Hawk strides inside with a bottle of water in hand. He’s wearing trousers and a T-shirt. All black, like a big, tall demon.
I bite my lower lip and look away from him, continuing my struggle against the binds.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I face him again, pure hatred pilling from my lips.
“I told you.” He casually sits on a wooden chair opposite the bed, his big frame dwarfing it. A lethal determination covers his face. “You’re staying here.”
“I can’t.” I lick my dry lips, eyeing the bottle of water. “I need my fix.”
He shakes his head once.
Damn the stubbornness of this man.
“Why the hell not?” I snap.
He remains silent, stabbing me with an unnerving, disapproving stare.
I lower my voice. “You know how it gets.”
“Knew. Past tense.” The punishing blue of his eyes looks down on me. “I’m off that poison.”
“But I’m not. I need more time.” My frustration spills loud and clear before I reign it down. “Do you by chance have some with you? Just a capsule would do.”
He shakes his head.
Fuck. There goes my hope.
“If you planned to bring me here, shouldn’t you have thought about my damn dose?” My voice shakes and so do my limbs. An itch stabs under my skin, roaring and clawing for a shot. Just a tiny one would do.
“No, because you’re getting off it.” His voice is cool, too cool.
“I need time!” I struggle against my bindings. I hate how my lady parts throb at the thought that he bound me so I’m completely at his mercy. However, the fact that he didn’t bring any Omega pisses me the hell off.
“You’re getting off it now.”
I freeze, lips parting, then I release a nervous laughter. “You’re joking, right?”
He leans in, so those deep blue gates stare at my soul. “Have I ever joked?”
“No.” I thrash, and the ropes tighten against my skin. My energy is waning, and soon, I won’t even be able to move.
Hawk stands to his full height, hovering over me. “I say yes.”
“You don’t understand.” Tears sting my eyes, but I swallow them down my constricting throat. “I need that dose.”
“Oh, yes, I do understand, Hellion. I understand better than you, actually. I’m the one who went through severe withdrawal, remember?” His face is in front of mine in a second until I’m breathing smoke and cloves and his intoxicating ocean scent. “You’ve been cheating on detoxing with the others, haven’t you?”
“N-no.” I suck in a deep breath, both to breathe him in and because I need to remind myself to breathe.
“If you really want off Omega, then you’ll put through this.”
“What is this?” I pull at my wrists and the bandage on my right arm opens and soaks in red. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Let me go.”
“It’s useless.” He smirks. “You’ll only make it uncomfortable the more you pull. I had lots of practice.”