Escape Page 2

  “I used to think that,” Van said slowly. “And maybe they are. Maybe a lot of them are pretty fucked up. But they don’t deserve to be treated like utter shit for it. I don’t even think I know the half of it, and I’m still not okay with it.”

  Nathaniel swallowed hard, and he wouldn’t meet Van’s eyes.

  “You should probably get to work,” Van said. It wasn’t like they were going to get anywhere with this conversation anyway. “I need to get ready too.”

  “You’re going?” Nathaniel blinked at him. “I thought—”

  “I told you I don’t want to sit at home all fucking day!” Van snapped. “Fuck. Do you even listen when I talk?”

  “Of course I do. I just thought…”

  “What, do you think you know better than I do?” Van challenged him. “Like when you thought I’d just be okay with getting knocked up, so you didn’t bother getting condoms even though it wouldn’t have even been hard to get them?”

  Nathaniel looked stricken. “That’s not what I’m trying to do, Van. I promise!”

  “But you are doing it.” Van’s shoulders slumped, the anger bleeding out of him. “Fuck, Nathaniel. I don’t even think you know what you’re doing wrong, and that pisses me off because you’re too goddamn smart for this shit.”

  “I grew up differently than you did,” Nathaniel said softly. He reached out like he was going to try to touch Van but drew his hand back. “These things are just… how things are. I don’t know. I’m trying, Van. I’m trying for you. I’m just so confused, and I don’t…” He looked away. “I don’t know what to think. I don’t know what to do.”

  Guilt rushed through Van. He wanted to hate Nathaniel for what he’d done, but then the beta went and said things like that. He was legitimately trying, even though he was failing spectacularly. How was it possible that this society was so ass-backwards?

  How was it possible that some of it made sense?

  If Van was confused, he could only imagine how Nathaniel felt.

  It made him soften toward the beta, but Van didn’t know what to say. Instead of speaking, he closed the distance between them, urging Nathaniel close and hugging him.

  Nathaniel melted against him, clinging to him like he expected Van to disappear at any moment. “Please don’t hate me, baby,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.” He buried his face against Van’s neck, the larger man seeming so small in that moment.

  Goddamn it. How was he supposed to stay mad at Nathaniel? It wasn’t even fucking fair. He didn’t doubt the beta was trying, which was the bitch of it. The fact that he just couldn’t seem to understand was the part that frustrated Van to no end. It had resulted in him getting fucking pregnant, which he wasn’t about to forget, but sometimes Nathaniel seemed so…

  Fragile.

  Like he was the omega instead of the other way around.

  That was the thing about this city. They classified everyone by gender, not personality. He could only imagine what betas could get away with—

  He had to fight back a hysterical laugh. Oh, he could imagine it. He could imagine it and then some. They’d built this place up on lies, and those lies seemed to hook into people and refuse to let go. They all seemed to believe the same shit, so where did Van fit in there?

  Simple: he didn’t.

  “I don’t hate you,” Van said after a long moment, smoothing his fingers through Nathaniel’s hair. “I’m pissed off at you, and I’m pissed off that I was stupid enough not to be more careful, and I’m pissed off because everything’s so different here.”

  “But isn’t that a good thing?” Nathaniel pleaded, pulling back enough to meet Van’s eyes. “You weren’t happy in Pine. The alphas… They took advantage of you. They tried to use you. They treated you like dirt.”

  “People say omegas have it so much better here, but Salvus wants the same fucking thing. It doesn’t matter what I want. I’m ending up barefoot in the kitchen with a baby on the way,” Van said bitterly.

  “You’re not ending up barefoot in the kitchen. I’m still going to be here by your side,” Nathaniel said earnestly. “It’s not Salvus. It was my mistake. Salvus… We’re just trying to do the best we can for everyone.”

  We.

  Logically, Van knew Nathaniel worked for the government hunting down criminals or whatever he did. But to hear him say we like he really was a part of the institution that had gotten Van into this in the first place…

  “You’ll never have to worry about anyone hurting you,” Nathaniel went on. “You’re protected, Van. No alpha will lord over you. You can be as independent as you want to be.”

  Yeah. He had so much freedom that when he’d even asked about an abortion, they’d called Nathaniel like he was Van’s keeper. And he might not have alphas lording over him, but betas were doing a pretty damn good job.

  Why was it so hard to cling to his anger? He knew he had every right to be pissed off, but Nathaniel had a way of justifying everything that just wreaked havoc on Van’s righteous indignation.

  “But I can’t have the kind of job I want,” Van said softly. “I can’t get on birth control. I couldn’t even make the most important decision in my life.”

  “Is it really so bad here, Van?” Nathaniel pleaded with him, grasping the bottom hem of Van’s shirt and clutching him. “I know I messed up. I messed up really bad. But I want to make it up to you.”

  How did their conversations keep circling back to this?

  “What if I wanted to leave?” Van asked. “What if I wanted to go home?”

  Nathaniel froze. “I… What… D-do…” He shivered, clinging more tightly to Van. “Do you want to go… back?”

  It was like the words were physically painful for the beta to speak.

  Van sighed. “I don’t know. The alphas there are just like the fucking betas here.”

  “We’d never hurt you!” Nathaniel insisted. “No one would tell you that you can’t… that you can’t r-rape an omega in heat,” he stammered out.

  Van shouldn’t have told him that.

  “So what am I supposed to do?” Van asked, bitterness dripping from his voice. “Where am I supposed to go? No matter where I go, I’m just breeding stock, Nathaniel. My only value is the fact that I can have kids, and I don’t even want kids.”

  Nathaniel pulled him close, kissing the top of his head. “You stay here,” he whispered. “You stay here with me, and you never have to worry about being treated like that. I won’t ever, ever ask you to have more children. I promise. To me, you’re so much more than that. I mean, yeah, I’m happy you’re pregnant, but… not at this cost. And I’m so, so sorry, Van. I’m so sor—”

  Van kissed him to shut him up even though he wasn’t in the mood for kissing or anything even remotely resembling affection. “I know you’re sorry,” he said when they broke apart from the soft, chaste kiss. “Just be honest with me.”

  “I promise,” Nathaniel vowed. “I promise, Van. I won’t lie to you again. I almost lost you once. I won’t… I won’t do anything to make you want to leave me again.”

  Van sighed. He hadn’t even been awake for an hour, and he already wanted to crawl back into bed. “I know,” he said. “We’ll talk about it tonight.” No, they wouldn’t, because Van would avoid the fuck out of the topic like it was poisonous. “But you’re already running late.”

  Nathaniel grimaced. “Yeah…” He trailed off, stealing another sweet kiss. “I should go.” But he lingered there anyway, still holding Van tight.

  “The food’s probably cold,” Van said, tilting his head in the direction of the tray.

  That got Nathaniel to let go of him. “I’m sorry. Go eat. I’ll see you this evening.” Another quick kiss, this time on Van’s cheek, then he stepped back. “Have a good day at work, Van.”

  “You too.” Van watched as Nathaniel retreated, then returned to his room and the tray of food. He didn’t want it. He didn’t want to eat, not when his stomach was already so unsettled.

  Could he go b
ack to Pine? He’d never really given it thought, not until he’d mentioned it to Nathaniel. Now he couldn’t help but wonder what would happen. He missed Omar more than he wanted to admit, but there was no fucking way the alpha would want him if he came back knocked up with some other guy’s kid.

  Van shoved those thoughts away, poking half-heartedly at the pancakes before giving up and starting to dress for work. He had to get the fuck out of this house before he lost his mind.

  2

  Omar

  It had been less than a week, and Omar already felt like a beaten dog.

  He couldn’t believe how fast they’d managed to break him down. He hadn’t thought it possible at first, but simple things could go a long way.

  Food.

  Water.

  Freezing temperatures.

  Too much heat.

  The shock collar.

  It was mostly the last that got to him. He hated the thing with a fucking passion, right down to its unbreakable electronic lock… and the tag.

  The tag was the worst part, the most soul-crushing of it all. He couldn’t see it, but he could hear the steady jingle as he moved. It was almost a cheerful little chime, which only made it that much worse.

  They’d told him his name was on it — his name, and his citizen identification number. Tyler had reassured him that everyone had such a number, but he didn’t see any collars on the betas that showed they had to display theirs at all times.

  When he’d mentioned that, Tyler had given him a blank look before launching into another lecture about how alphas needed more guidance.

  He’d never encountered anything like this before. If he had, he’d have run in the other direction. The fact that he’d just walked into Salvus expecting to be able to rescue Van was fucking stupid, and he was kicking himself for thinking he could do this.

  Now he was trapped, but unlike Van, he wasn’t going to end up barefoot in the kitchen having babies. In a few hours, he’d be starting hard labor with a group of other alphas.

  He hadn’t met the others yet, and he was wary of it. Would they be as brainwashed as Tyler? Would they be defiant, or would they actually believe this was their supposedly rightful place?

  He couldn’t imagine them buying into this shit, but at the same time… Alphas who’d been born there didn’t stand a fucking chance. If they’d grown up with this sort of rhetoric, how could they even come out of it in one piece? Their minds had to be at least as fractured as Omar’s was.

  The door opened, but Omar didn’t move. They’d conditioned him to stay lying down when they entered, utterly vulnerable and unable to even see who entered his cell. Every instinct hated it with a passion, but then, that seemed to be his reaction to everything.

  There was nothing good about Salvus that he’d been able to see so far. Between what he’d heard about how omegas were treated, and with how they treated alphas, it didn’t seem like anyone except betas prospered in this city.

  And the betas would obviously do anything to keep it that way.

  “You can sit up,” Tyler’s familiar voice told him from the doorway. The door quietly closed behind him.

  Omar slowly sat up, not wanting to trigger the quick reactions the beta had to his supposedly aggressive behavior. He’d learned he had to move deliberately, thinking through every motion before actually following through with it.

  That, and not to take the initiative on anything.

  The invisible chains chafed, and they felt like they grew heavier each day.

  A week.

  He hadn’t even been there a week yet, and he was already resigned to this fate.

  I’m so sorry, Van.

  “Now stand and get dressed.”

  Omar didn’t talk. They didn’t like that. He was supposed to be their puppet, only reacting when they moved the strings, and they kept those strings tight — complete with one around his throat that seemed to grow just as burdensome as the invisible chains.

  But it wasn’t really invisible, was it? All he had to do was move, and the shock collar dug into his throat, the tag jingling. It was an ever-present reminder of who and what he was — of who and what the people in this city thought he was.

  He obeyed after a slight hesitation, and he could almost feel the electricity racing through him in response to the delay. Tyler was obviously in a good mood, though, because he only waited as Omar stripped out of his standard issue night clothes — they weren’t nearly comfortable enough to be called pajamas — and into his day clothes.

  A thin shirt, button-up pants, shoes with no laces — nothing more. He hated them. They told him it was for his own protection, but he knew better. They didn’t want to risk an alpha managing to craft a noose out of shoelaces or figuring out a way to use even a zipper as a weapon.

  Didn’t that mean some alphas still had enough spirit to want to fight back?

  Or were they all broken?

  “You’ve come a long way,” Tyler said as Omar carefully turned around. “Today, you’re going to meet your pack.”

  Another dog reference, though Omar preferred to think of himself as a captured wolf.

  Right. He was too docile for that.

  “We’re going to cuff you, and we’re going to take you to your new home. You can get used to it and meet the others, and we’ll show you how your collar is going to work once you get settled in.”

  The restrictions had to get lighter. There was no way it could get worse. Maybe they were allowed some freedom?

  He wasn’t counting on it.

  He held out his wrists, and Tyler smiled at him. “I told you you’d learn,” he said, sounding almost… happy. “Isn’t it so much better when you let us guide you?”

  What the ever-loving fuck? If Tyler thought this was better…

  Yet it was better than the constant jolts of pain through the collar.

  “Come on.” Tyler followed behind him. “Remember I have the control to your collar,” he needlessly reminded Omar.

  “Like I could forget,” Omar muttered. Fucking seriously.

  “What was that?” Tyler asked.

  “Nothing,” Omar said a little louder.

  “Oh, good.” Tyler’s voice was cheerful, like it really was good instead of a total shitshow. “I’d hate to think we needed to repeat any of our lessons. They’re always more thorough the second time to make sure they really sink in.”

  Little by little, they were working to erase Omar’s identity — and it was driving him utterly fucking crazy.

  He followed Tyler’s directions to get through the maze, pausing each time the beta had to scan his hand to get doors to open. He couldn’t see any way out of this. The doors were all firmly locked, and it wasn’t likely he could get the remote from the beta and try to make a run for it. He wouldn’t know where to go, and Tyler wouldn’t give him any directions — or if he did, it would be to one of the worst parts of the place.

  There were a lot to choose from.

  If only there was a way to get the collar off and around Tyler’s neck instead…

  He wasn’t usually a violent person, despite being an alpha, but this sort of treatment was turning him murderous. No wonder they felt they had to treat alphas so strictly. If they let up, alphas would do their best to reclaim their autonomy… and it wouldn’t go well for the people who kept them under their thumbs.

  Finally, he stepped through a door only to stop in his tracks when sunlight blinded him. His mouth went dry, and he couldn’t bring himself to take another step forward. He tilted his head up, enjoying the feeling of it on his face. Maybe it was only a parking lot, but it was so much better than the clinical walls of where he’d been kept.

  “Move,” Tyler told him. “You can sightsee on the way home.”

  Home.

  Not fucking likely.

  Reluctantly, Omar let Tyler guide him toward a car with a metal divider separating the front and back seats. Tyler put his hand on top of Omar’s head, urging him to duck into the back seat. He cast a
withering look at the beta but schooled his features to neutrality before the man could punish him for showing aggression.

  The door closed behind him, and he itched to try the handle. He knew they’d shock the fuck out of him for even trying, though, and it would probably be locked from the outside anyway. There was no sense in trying some half-assed escape attempt here.

  He’d already learned his lesson about half-assed plans, and they’d landed him in this car to begin with.

  Tyler got behind the wheel, humming to himself. “We’re not going far. I got you a great job. You’re going to be working at Peters Construction Company. The hours are good, the groups are good, and they’re good to their alphas.”

  He sounded like he believed it, but Omar didn’t.

  “Do I get paid?” he asked carefully, making sure to lean back in his seat. “I don’t know much about what’s going to happen when I’m there.”

  Tyler cast a glance at him through the rearview mirror. He looked almost startled. “Of course you get paid. You aren’t a… slave or anything.”

  Omar cleared his throat. Could’ve fooled me, he wanted to say, but he didn’t dare utter the words aloud.

  “You’ll earn money to spend as you like.”

  “On what?”

  “Well, first housing and food come out of your pay, of course. We can’t give that away for free.”

  Omar kept his mouth shut.

  Barely.

  “Then you can buy clothes, personalization for your room, games… anything you want, within reason. They’ll give you a list of what’s acceptable. No video games, of course,” Tyler chirped. “They make alphas violent.”

  Right. Video games.

  “So what kind of games can we play?”

  “You know… cards, board games…” Tyler shrugged, putting the blinker on and turning off the main road.

  If they didn’t work him to death, they were going to bore him to death.