Page 92 of My Unhinged Alphas
I didn’t really sleep after Havoc dropped me off. I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, fully clothed for a while, then changed, then sat with my back against the wall and listened for every sound outside the apartment like a crazy person. By the time the sky started to lighten, my phone finally had enough charge for me to send the text I should have sent hours ago.
I’m home. I’m okay. Phone died.
A lie, mostly. I’m not okay. But I’m at work anyway, because rent does not care that my life went off the rails last night.
The café smells like espresso and burnt sugar and warm milk. Usually I like it. Usually, the noise helps. The grinder, the hiss of the steamer, the low chatter, cups knocking together. Today every sound feels a little too loud, every voice a little too close. My body is here, wiping down counters and ringing up orders and calling names, but my mind keeps slipping.
A man in a dark coat walks past the window and my stomach drops before I realize he’s just some random customer. Someone laughs too loudly behind me and I almost flinch.
I keep making coffee. That’s the only thing I know how to do right now.
Mara and Jess are sitting at the back table, watching me between sips of iced coffee like they’re waiting for a chance to corner me. When the line thins out, they come up to the counter together.
“Are you seriously just going to act like everything’s normal?” Mara asks.
I keep wiping the same clean spot. “I’m at work, aren’t I?”
“That’s not an answer,” Jess says.
Mara leans in. “Lena, you disappeared. After that text. Do you have any idea how scared we were?”
I swallow.
Yes. I do.
Because I was scared too.
I set the rag down and force myself to look at them. “I know. I’m sorry.”
Mara folds her arms. “Sorry? We were about to call the police.”
That makes my hand tighten on the counter.
Police. Shit. That’s the last thing I need right now. Because if I tell them what really happened, that’s where this goes. Questions. Statements. A dead man. Three others. And somewhere at the end of it, the men who got me out going to prison for murder.
I should want that.
I should. But I don’t.
Not fully.
What they did was insane. Terrifying. Violent. I still don’t understand half of it. But they also got me out, and that fact won’t leave me alone. And even if Havoc didn’t spell it out, I know for sure I’m under some kind of surveillance.
“What happened?” Jess asks, softer now. “Really.”
I open my mouth and hear myself lie. “He wasn’t who he said he was,” I say. That much is true. “Things got weird. My phone died. I just wanted to come home.”
Mara stares at me. “That’s it?”
No. Not even close.
But I nod anyway. “That’s it.”
“You sent one creepy text and then vanished for hours,” Mara says.
“I know.”
Jess studies my face. “Did he hurt you?”
