“What the hell?” I ask, righting myself to look at him through my hair.
“What the hell? What the fucking hell, Molly?” He grabs me by the coat again and gives me a good shake. My head is still spinning and this just makes it worse. “You owe me everything. You owe me your life.”
“Fuck you,” I say, gaining back some control. “Just fuck you, you crazy vagrant. Living in a tunnel. All that weird shit you have in there. Is that hologram your wife?”
He shoves me so hard I stumble backwards and hit a tree, knocking the wind out of me. Now it’s his turn to double over. I can almost feel his pain. I imagine it to be like the revulsion that receded from my own gut seconds before. “You were only eight back then,” he says, spitting on the ground and regaining his composure so he can look up at me from under the hair that drapes over his eyes. “I was fifteen. I had all the power then. You were never gonna live through it, Molly. Not without my help. You were never going to make it. Never.”
“Shut up!” I don’t even know why I’m so mad. But I don’t want to hear anymore. I need to get the hell out of here.
“And when Thomas said, ‘You need to kill her, Lincoln. You need to kill her or she will come back and kill us,’ I didn’t. But I should’ve, Molly. I fucking should’ve done it. And if I was as smart as they say, I would’ve done it.”
I bolt to the left, but he grabs my arm and throws me down on the ground. He straddles me, one foot on either side of my hips, looking down at me like a wolf might look at prey.
A memory flashes through my mind. Fire, everywhere. Explosions.
Lincoln kneels down with me between his legs and shakes his head, grimacing like he’s still in pain, but that only makes him clutch me tighter. I feel fear. Real, honest-to-God fear. “I set you free that night. I told you to run, you stupid girl. I saved you even though your only purpose in life was to hurt me.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” He’s insane. And I’m dead. He is the killer and he’s gonna get me next.
He grabs both my shoulders and gives me another shake. “Remember me, Molly? Remember me? I was your only friend even though you did everything they told you.”
“No, I don’t know you. I don’t know you!” I say, desperate to make everything stop. My head hurts so bad. My vision blurs and my heart is beating so fast it sounds like the thunder created by a galloping horse. “I’m Molly Masters. You’re confusing me with someone else. You’re crazy. You’re a criminal. You hate the world and you want to make me crazy with you.”
He kisses me on the mouth.
Hard and soft at the same time. His hands wrap around my face, pulling me towards him. And then he withdraws and I am so stunned, I cannot move.
“I saved you, Molly,” he whispers into my mouth, trying to kiss me and talk at the same time, grabbing my face like he can’t bear to let me go. “I saved you even though you’ll kill me if you ever have the chance.”
“Stop,” I say, pushing him away, tears streaming down my face. “Stop!” I scream it this time. I kick my feet up and even though I’m trained to take down men twice my size, I am powerless as he looms over me.
“You can’t make me stop, Molly. But don’t worry. I can’t really hurt you. It’s how they made us.”
“No,” I say. “No. Everything you’re saying right now is a lie. I want you to get off me. I want you to let me go. I want to go home, Lincoln. I want to go home—”
Chapter Twenty-Two - Lincoln
Chapter Twenty-Two
Alpha #3
Prodigy School
Fifteen years ago
“Tell me what to do, Alpha.”
The little girl looks at me with her wide hazel eyes and swallows down her fear. She is one of only a handful of people I should be afraid of. But I love her more than anything. She is the only good thing in my life. Even in this place filled with hate, and greed, and cruelty she makes me feel love.
If I were following orders she’d be dead right now. Lying in her bed in a pool of her own blood. The other Alphas have already finished. They are waiting for me so we can escape. But the other Alphas don’t have little girls as their Omega. The other Alphas don’t feel the way I do.
“You have to run, Omega.” I wish she had a name. I wish so much I could give her a real name. But it’s too late now. She’s leaving my life—dead or alive. One way or another, the time for naming is over.
“Don’t leave me, Alpha,” she pleads in that little-girl voice that makes me love her even more. “Don’t leave me here.” She whispers the last part, a tear trickling down her cheek. Her face is so pale in the bright moonlight shining through her bedroom window.