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“You need to leave.” That was all he gave me before he was gone again, only a wisp of his scent left behind.
The whispering outside of my door was too close to miss the word ‘cops,’ and I hurried over, listening closely.
“They’re looking for her. She’s calling it in now. That crazy omega broke into a building downtown and did a ton of damage. The silent alarm went off and cameras had her face all over them,” they whispered.
That was enough for me to pack my backpack and push open my window. I’d been on this fire escape enough nights to know how to use it effectively.
I was out the door and halfway down the block before the cop cars were parking in front.
My time here was officially over. Onto the next city.
“Hey! Stop!” I turned. Sure enough, they were already running after me.
“Shit,” I cursed, putting everything I had into running around the corner and through the crowd, coming face to face with another cop.
“Stop!” the alpha bellowed. Even as I tried to run again, I was grabbed from behind, two officers slamming me to the ground hard enough that my teeth chattered at the impact.
The harsh treatment had every cut and bruise I’d gotten yesterday at the warehouse throbbing in response.
“What’s with this brutality?” I growled. I’d play the omega card if I thought it would work. To them I was a criminal.
“You ran from police and you’re resisting!” an officer shot back. He manhandled me out of my backpack and then quickly handcuffed me and hauled me to my feet.
Soon enough I was thrown into the back of a cop car, my Miranda rights only read to me as an afterthought.
Harlow
Four Weeks Later
The next few weeks were a whirlwind with the booking and arraignment, then my appointment with their court-appointed psychiatrist.
That was a journey all on its own.
The poor psychiatrist probably turned in her license after dealing with me. And, of course, Monty.
“Can you tell me about your hallucinations, Miss Devoe?” The psychiatrist’s voice was devoid of all emotion.
“What do you want to know?” I asked. My voice shook despite being careful. A tingling rolled down my spine before Monty was standing behind her. The smile that pulled my lips was unintentional but she noticed.
“What is amusing, Miss Devoe?” she prompted. I didn’t miss her glancing behind her chair uneasily either.
They probably thought sending in a beta would be soothing for me. Yet she’d need her own psych by the time this interview was done. She was already shaken and we’d just begun.
“She’s wound tighter than a fucking guitar string. Maybe she needs a good fucking to ease that stick out of her ass. I’d bet money that’s her kink,” he rambled.
“You don’t have money,” I answered with a snort before I’d realized what I’d done. But if they thought I was crazy... may as well give them a show.
“Who?” the psychiatrist continued on as I watched Monty crawl up the wall before dangling above her head so his shadows danced around her. His mouth hung open in an upside-down smile, and it looked so strange against the clinical whites of this room.
“No one.” I shrugged. “They don’t tell me their names.”
Clearly, that appointment went well, or not, depending on your take. But two weeks later, I was in court having to prove my innocence to a judge that looked like he wanted to give me a second chance.
“Harlow Devoe, due to the circumstance of your mental health, the store has decided not to press charges. Therefore, the court is turning you over to the state. As your system was free of drugs, you are being given the unique opportunity to get the medication and help you need. You will be assigned an inpatient facility, and a caseworker will be in contact to let you know more. Until then, I hope you consider the consequences of your actions and the leniency the court is showing you today.”
“Thank you, sir,” I said, bowing my head so I appeared humble. Part of me was grateful I wouldn’t be going to jail, the other part of me knew this was a prison of another sort.
One that was probably worse.
