James’s [POV]
It’s been him the whole time.
Clyde.
The one that made her uncomfortable, the one we fired because he wouldn’t stop invading her space.
She was friendly to him, and he thought that meant she was interested in him.
Never mind that he was a Beta, and she was our Omega.
Grey had to stop me from killing him.
Literally.
I should have done it when I had the chance, instead of just telling him to fuck off and never come back.
Instead, he changed his fucking name and spun a web of lies that kept her away from us.
“We have to find him,” I say, as Beau looks at me warily.
Grey jots down his license plate as I contemplate all the ways to hurt him.
I’m starting to wonder if the letters from her were fake and if she never intended to leave us.
Maybe it was just to clear her head.
“We’ll find him,” Grey says. “We’ll report her missing, and we’ll have the whole fucking town searching for her.”
“Do you think he’ll hurt her?” Beau asks warily.
I won’t even entertain the thought.
If I go down that road, I’ll descend into madness, and I might never resurface.
Hold on, Princess. We’re coming.
Harper’s [POV]
I hate him.
Michael, or whoever he is.
I wake up to my hand zip-tied, lying on a bed and his anxious face peering down at me.
“Hi, Sleeping Beauty,” he murmurs, giving me a crooked smile. His fingers trace lazy circles over my stomach, and my head pounds with pain.
He knocked me out.
I used to find him attractive. But the boyish features that complimented his face have warped into something sour and childish, like a toddler in a permanent tantrum.
“Where are we?” I croak, staring at the wood-paneled ceiling.
“I rented a cabin for a few weeks,” he murmurs. “So, we can talk, and I can make it up to you.”
I don’t like the sound of that.
My wrists ache from the zip ties, and I roll onto my side, away from him, so he doesn’t see the disgusted look on my face.
But he doesn’t stop his touch. His hand moves to my back and attempts to massage the tension in my muscles.
Too bad they’ll never go away as long as I’m with him.
“We can get a kitten if you want,” he says conversationally. “I’m sorry I wasn’t honest about that. I just didn’t want you to love the cat more than you loved me.”
I don’t love you, I want to scream.
I don’t think I ever have.
“But I’m ready to be a better man for you,” he continues. “And I’m ready to tell you the truth about everything.”
I scoff, staring at the cream-colored wall. The cabin we’re in is well-crafted with a modern touch, and any other time, I would love it.
But it’s just a gilded cage.
A well-decorated prison.
“My original name is Clyde,” he says quietly. “But Michael sounds better with Harper, and that’s who I want to be now.”
I try to keep my face neutral, but I can’t stop the flinch at his words.
“Your birth name is Evelynn Harper Chapman,” he says. “Your birthdate is October 16th.”
Oh, good. At least he kept something accurate on my fake I. D.
“You’re an Omega.”
I could have told him that.
“And I have Alphas,” I mutter to the wall.
He stops rubbing my back.
“They didn’t treat you right,” he snaps. “They were too busy with their stupid Inn.”
“It was mine, too,” I murmur. “It was my home. And you tore me away from it.”
I close my eyes, hopelessness filling my heart.
“They didn’t mate you, though,” he insists. “If they cared about you, they would have claimed you. And they didn’t.”
Which was my fault.
All my fucking fault.
I ran away from them, terrified of having a family, and Michael-Clyde-conveniently ran me off the road before I could give them my answer.
Which would have been yes.
I would have come back and told them yes, that I wanted to belong to them, heart and soul.
But instead…
“Why did you write the letters?” I ask him. “You hurt them and my best friend.”
“So they would stop looking for you,” he sighs. “So, they couldn’t tear us apart. You wouldn’t believe how many drafts I made to mimic your handwriting just right.”
Suddenly, he sits up off the bed and kneels in front of me, his crazed eyes meeting mine. “But you had to go off and run back to them anyway,” he spits. “Even after what I told you.”
Something in him shifts, and his eyes narrow. “The problem isn’t with me,” he declares, and my eyes widen in disbelief. “The problem is you don’t know how to accept healthy love.”
My mouth falls open at his audacity. “If your idea of love is lying to me about who I am, I don’t want it.”
His eye twitches and his chest heaves.
Stupid! Why would you run your mouth?
I close my eyes, bracing for the blow, but it never comes.
He storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
I’m left alone on the bed with my hands still tied.
It’s difficult to keep my eyes open for a long, and I think I have a concussion.
Every time I blink, a jolt of pain extends up my jaw and to the side of my head.
I could use some pain medication, but who knows what else he would put into it.
I don’t even trust the water bottle he left for me.
The sun creeps in behind the curtains, and I realize I’ve slept all night.
Fuck. I could use a shower.
And my suppressants.
Oh no.
Will he give me his suppressant cocktail?
Should I take them or just suffer a violent Heat with him?
Oh, God.
As if on cue, the door opens, and I roll over to see Michael. He’s changed into a sweatshirt and jeans, and he gives me a bright smile.
He acts like he didn’t just kidnap me.
“Hey, babe. You sleep well?”
I nod, doing my best to return the smile.
Maybe I can gain his trust, then find out where we are and plan an escape.
I’ll be damned if I spend the rest of my life with him.
“I think I need to go to the hospital,” I murmur. “My head hurts badly. I might have a concussion.”
He sees right through me. “Aw, I’m sorry, babe,” he smiles. “But a hospital won’t do anything for that. You just need to rest.”
Plan foiled.
I swallow, refusing to let him see me tear up.
He’s not stupid. Of course, knows what I’m trying to do.
And, unlike him, I’m not used to manipulating people.
“But let’s get you in the shower, okay?” he says, still grinning.
I freeze.
“Relax,” he says, his smile fading. “I’ll be outside the door. I would never make you do something you didn’t want to do.”
Liar.
“Thank you,” I whisper. “It’s just a lot.”
“I know. But I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere.”
It feels like bugs are crawling on my skin, and I try my best not to dry heave.
This is very, very wrong.
But he’s temperamental, and I don’t know what will happen if I push him over the edge.
He believes he loves me, and I have to play along until an opportunity makes itself known.
As he cuts the zip ties from my wrists, I try not to think about Grey, James, and Beau.
Wilson’s furry face fills my head, and a tear slips down my cheek before I can wipe it away.
Michael cups my face with one hand and brings his lips to my cheek. “No tears,” he whispers. “Only smiles from now on.”
I shiver.
He sleeps by my side every night, and I wake up screaming every morning.
My dreams are violent and disturbing, and when I dance on the edge of sleep and consciousness, I forget where I am for a moment.
But when reality hits, I sob hysterically.
Michael takes me in his arms, but his touch is foreign and unsettling.
It only makes me cry harder as he tries to soothe me.
He whispers words in my ear, declarations of how much he loves me, playing his familiar mind games.
We slowly fall into the old routine, and if my heart wasn’t already broken, it would shatter every time he pulled me into his arms.
My hands stay cuffed, and I’m forced to rely on him for almost everything.
He feeds me, and I hate every bite, terrified of what’s in the food.
When I use the bathroom, he stands outside the door, humming happily, only to slap metal cuffs back on me the moment I’m done.
He orders groceries so he never has to leave the house.
To survive, I push Grey, Beau, and James into the back of my mind.
Surely, they have to be looking for me, right?
Or maybe…
Maybe they thought I left them again and they’re done for good.
They didn’t mate me. They could find someone else.
But those fears don’t seem accurate.
They’remyAlphas, and I’m their Omega.
I hold on to the hope the best I can, still believing that when the moment is right, I’ll be able to escape Michael.
“You’re thinking about them,” he says one night, as we sit on the couch in the living room. He’s brushing my hair, and I’m perched in his lap, pretending to be his perfect little doll. The television blares in the background, playing a sitcom he claims we love.
I shrug, feigning disinterest.
The brush tangles in my hair and he pulls too hard, ripping strands from my scalp. I yelp in pain as he pulls my head back, putting his mouth to my ear.
“It’s just us now,” he breathes. “They’re not coming back, Harper.”
He alternates between calling me Harper or Evelynn.
Evelynn is when he’s in a good mood.
Harper is when he’s feeling particularly controlling.
His hands wrap around my waist, and for a terrifying moment, I think he’s going to take advantage of me. I’m hardly in a position to fight him, but he doesn’t continue his movements.
So far, he prides himself on not forcing himself on me.
He says he loves me so much he’ll wait for when I’m ready, and that he would never do something so awful.
And that I break his heart for even thinking such a thing.
I grit my teeth and stay quiet as he anchors me to his lap, forcing my mind to focus on the television.
“The sooner you realize how awful they treated you, the easier this will be for both of us,” he murmurs.
He doesn’t miss the shake of my head, and he sighs.
“Why do you want me to hurt you so badly? You need to learn to love yourself, Harper. I can only do so much.”
I rage internally.
“I’m sorry, Michael,” I mutter, doing my best to sound sincere.
He presses a kiss on my head.
“It’s okay, love,” he says. “I know you’ve been through a lot. You’re just confused.”
All is forgiven, for now.
I shut down inside, my heart breaking all over again.