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“I said no. I’m not giving up my source. If you want me to get suppressant pills for you, I can do that. But I’m not going to send you in to get them.” Kinsey meets my eyes, daring me to argue.
But I don’t have it in me. She is stubborn as fuck. That’s one thing I know for certain about her.
“Fine. Hurry up and finish eating and then get dressed.” I get to my feet. “I’ll be back in twenty to get you.”
“Seriously?” she asks, her eyes widening.
“Absolutely serious. Now hustle. We don’t have all day, and I want to be back here before nightfall.” I stride across the room and glance over my shoulder at her. “If you need anything, just holler. I’ll hear you.”
I abandon her, leaving her shocked in silence on the bed. Clicking her door closed, I lean against it and sigh, lowering myself to the floor.
What am I getting myself into?
What am I getting Kinsey into?
I’m afraid that I’m about to send both our lives straight to hell.
Chapter 11
Kinsey
Gutter District
Ishouldbescaredout of my mind, watching as the world blurs outside of the window. This is a far better view than I had in the back of the utility van belonging to Madame Tamsin, but it does nothing for my nerves. The sleek, silver sports car zooms down the main highway, leading toward the one place I never expected to see again.
Wilder is crazy if he thinks we aren’t going to draw attention. He could’ve picked something less obvious, but I don’t even think he has a car that would blend in with the rest of society. The two-seater probably cost more than the salary some betas make in their entire lives.
I feel weird sitting here, touching the seats, half-expecting Wilder to yell at me for holding on.
“I have some connections just outside the Gutter District. I want you to cover up. There’s a hat and a scarf in the bag on the floor. It’s not uncommon for us to hide our staff members to ensure their safety. We’re always a target for someone or another, and not everyone lives at the palace.” Wilder motions to my feet, where a bag takes up half of my foot room.
“This is a terrible idea.” I know I’ve said it a dozen times, but Wilder’s head is far too thick to even consider that he’s wrong.
“I’ll protect you, Kinsey. Now don’t be a brat and do as I asked. It’s important.” Wilder reaches toward the floorboard this time, pulling up the bag himself to plop it on my lap.
“I’d believe you if you were one of your brothers. I’m pretty sure you would just shove me at some asshole to escape if things went down.” I shift on the leather seat and fidget with my seatbelt.
“What kind of man do you think I am? If that were the case, you wouldn’t even be here.” Wilder stomps the throttle, sending the car lurching forward faster.
“I think you’re a cocky bastard. You can’t just accept that you aren’t thinking straight.” I pull the baseball hat from the duffel bag and put it on my head, trying not to inhale a deep breath. It smells just like him, the intoxicating cinnamon, vetiver, and something wild drenching me.
“Things are clearer. Now hurry up. There are sunglasses in there as well. Don’t try anything stupid either. I can outrun you.” Wilder glances at me in his peripheral vision, a smirk curling his lips. He loves messing with me and getting under my skin. He is probably aware that I struggle not to pull the hat from my head to bury my face in it.
Fucking alphas.
Fucking body of mine.
The only thing that keeps me from panicking is that if we do get ahold of suppressant pills, I can start taking them again. It would really help me out.
“You’re going to owe me for this,” I say, putting on the dark sunglasses a bit too big for my face. I can’t wait to get some of my own belongings. Or at least the things I had in my bag. But it’s like this bastard doesn’t want me to have any part of my past as if it’ll somehow bend me to his will in the future.
“Is it not enough for me to give you a life beyond your wildest dreams, brat-girl?” Wilder switches lanes, sending me sprawling toward the door.
I swing out and smack him in the arm. Laughing, his face lights up in amusement. He enjoys this way too much, his usually potent anger morphing into something softer, sweeter. A little bit of lust too. He likes when I touch him, but I know he’d never admit it. He thinks he can resist me, but I notice him secretly scenting things and leaving his mark. He touches my wrists and my cheeks often. And it’s not in the same way he does to his brothers, trying to get to me. It’s definitely more territorial, and being alone with him proves that Arsenio was right. I guess I’ve been lying to myself about knowing he fights his attraction to me all along.
I should use this against him and to my advantage. Push him. Test him. Tease him until he can’t stand it and finally gives in. Then I can deny him and show him what it’s like to mess with a woman who’s been scorned. He’d deserve it.
Too bad I’m far too anxious about returning to the Gutter District. I suppress my urges and choose to ignore him and stare out the windshield, watching as the city grows and envelopes us, the clear border vanishing as we enter the territory I’ve lived in for the last two years. I hunker down in my seat, fear blossoming in my chest to curl around my heart and lungs, squeezing tightly. The dark tint of the windows should obscure us from the outside, making it impossible to identify me, but it doesn’t stop the panic resonating inside me. While I have mediocre memories of the Gutter District, the last night I spent here really fucked with my head.
