Page 149 of My Unhinged Alphas
I look under the photo and see a folded map pinned beneath it. Voss pulls it free and opens it on the desk.
City map. Or at least a portion of it. It gives little away.
The room goes dead quiet.
I keep staring at the map like if I look long enough it’ll stop meaning what it means. It doesn’t.
My chest goes tight. Then tighter.
And before I can think better of it, I turn and walk straight into Knox.
I don’t ask. I just grab onto him.
My hands fist in the front of his shirt and I press my face into his chest like maybe if I can’t see any of this for a second, it won’t be real. He goes still under the impact, caught off guard formaybe half a heartbeat, and then one of his arms comes around me.
“Why me?” I say into Knox’s shirt, voice thin and too fast. “Seriously, why me? I make coffee. I complain about tips. I once cried because my landlord raised the rent by twenty dollars. I’m not a target, I’m an inconvenience.”
Nobody interrupts.
That only makes me keep going.
“I’m nobody,” I say. “I’m literally the kind of person people forget in group photos. I’m the girl who gets left off email chains. I’m human administrative error. There is no reason for there to be a murder Pinterest board about me.”
Havoc makes a sound that’s almost a laugh and then thinks better of it.
“What did I do?” I ask. “Did I jaywalk in front of the wrong cult? Did I unknowingly offend some ancient murder dynasty by ordering bad takeout? Is this karma for ghosting that guy from finance in 2022?”
Knox is looking down at me in that unreadable way of his, one hand still warm and steady on my back. His voice stays low. “Lena.”
“No, because I need someone to explain the math here,” I say, words tripping over each other now. “How does a woman with one functional bra, no savings, and a deeply average life end up with a contract on her head? I don’t even have a good kitchen knife. I have a peeling non-stick pan and unresolved abandonment issues. That is not the profile of someone worth killing.”
That one gets a short, involuntary laugh out of Havoc.
Even Vale looks like he might.
For once I’m not trying to be funny. That’s the worst part. The humor is just leaking out because if it doesn’t, I think I’ll scream.
My grip tightens on Knox’s shirt.
“I’m serious,” I say, and now my voice shakes in a way I can’t hide. “I’m nobody. I’ve always been nobody. Easy to move, easy to miss, easy to lose. So why am I on a wall? Why is there a contract? Why is there a camera pointed at my bed?” The last word cracks.
That’s the one that gets me.
Not the photos. Not even the contract.
My bed.
The place I slept. The one place that was mine, however shitty and temporary, and some stranger turned it into a frame.
My breathing goes wrong.
Knox’s hand spreads wider against my back. Still careful. Still solid. “Easy,” he says.
“That’s a terrible word right now,” I whisper.
“I know.”
Voss finally speaks, and there’s disapproval all through it, not just at me but at the whole shape of this. “She needs to step back.”
