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“I’m not telling you,” Gabe replies.
“Then I’ll kill you.”
Gabe swallows as his eyes glance at the camera in the room, and I see him.
My alpha.
His eyes flick ahead at the gunman. “Go ahead. I’ve got nothing to live for.”
I suck back a breath.
My hand slaps over my mouth as I hold back my scream.
I inhale and smell the scent I did earlier. It’s coating my hands. A buttery, but sweet, decadent pastry that I want to eat.
Gabe.
“What about the omega you killed for?”
I freeze as I listen.
He killed for me?
Or someone else?
“No idea what you’re talking about,” Gabe replies.
“I know it was you. And I know it’s her.”
“She isn’t my omega.” Gabe’s voice is scratchy, and he glances at the floor.
I am.
I smell Gabe.
He’s my alpha.
Though I know I’m miles away from letting him be mine. There are too many questions I need answers to.
And I need answers.
That man will not kill Gabe before I get them.
I look around the panic room, trying to gather my thoughts. My mind is racing with ideas of what to do next, and I remember Gabe showing me a gun.
My stomach churns.
I’m not sure what to do. I want to help Gabe, but I can’t when I’m trapped in this room. Which is frustrating considering I can shoot a gun.
My dad taught all my sisters and me from when we were young. I accept I’m not the sharpest shooter in the world, but I know I can aim with a steady hand.
I lift my hand and realize it’s shaking. “Fuck!”
I breathe in and out, focusing on calming my breathing. I have to chill out if I’m going to help my alpha.
But as I sit here, fear riddling my body, I know what I have to do.
I take a deep breath, stand up and stare at the gun for a moment before I grab it and slip it into my gown pocket. If the gunman sees me getting close, I don’t want him to pull the trigger on Gabe because of fear.
