Poison Ivy Ch. 03

She climbed up onto the sink, her bound hands doing their best to hold on to whatever she could grip. The window taunted her. Even standing on the sink with her arms stretched, the bottom of the sill was out of her reach. Her skills at getting through tiny spaces might be put to good use, but it was contingent upon two factors: A) The window had to be unlocked, and B) She must be able to reach it to hoist herself up and over. She looked back at the door.

Just don't start getting suspicious, kid.

This was it, her best, and perhaps only, chance to get away. No doubts, no overthinking. She just had to act. With a deep breath, she crouched, then swung her arms up as her legs pushed off the corroded metal sink with an awkward, decidedly ungraceful move she could really only call a hop. But it was enough!

Fuckin A.

Her fingers clutched the small, concrete ledge just below the window sill, and her breathing sped up. Slowly, carefully, she walked her legs up, folding her body like a caterpillar climbing a tree, clutching the ledge for dear life. Once she had her knees high enough, she pushed off the wall with all of her remaining strength and threw her head against the window.

It flew outwards, opening to the outside of the building. Thank fuck. With a little cry of victory, she began maneuvering the rest of her body out the window, just as she heard a commotion outside and a pounding on the door.

No time. Get the fuck up there.

Her feet scrambled up the wall, struggling to find purchase against the flat concrete siding. An especially large Beta broke through the door and lunged. He caught her ankle in his bruising grip and began to pull her down. Panicked, she kicked out with her free foot, connecting with his jaw. He grunted and fell back just long enough for her to squirm the rest of the way out and tumble to the wet pavement below. She cried out at the quick flash of pain that shot through her injured shoulder, but forced herself to straighten and take a quick inventory of her multiple injuries. No broken bones aside from a possible fractured rib, and legs that still worked.

Time to go.

She heard boots running toward her and scrambled to her feet. Running with her hands bound would slow her down, but she was still fast, and might be faster than these fucks. She took off, finding the main road and sticking close to the side, hoping to see some Lostran uniforms. She didn't know where to go, didn't know which buildings were captured and which were friendly, but anything was worth a chance. She just needed to get to one of the further buildings and --

A hand grabbed the stupid, thin as fuck shirt and yanked her backwards, tearing some of the fabric at the shoulders. A body slammed into her and she was sent sprawling over the hard pavement, her cheek slamming into the concrete with a grim smack.

Well, fuck me sideways.

A knee pressed into her back and fingers crept over her scalp, someone yanking back hard and pulling her face up and around.

Of course, it would be Kentucky. Who else would have caught up with her? His face was mutilated by whatever dark rage had corrupted him enough to bring him to this desperate point. She watched his warm hazel eyes darken as he appraised her coldly. She knew what was about to happen.

This was going to hurt.

"Brad. Stop. Look at what you're doing! You can't win!" She was pleading, and she hated herself for it. A part of her hoped she could still get through to the boy she had stayed up late with, watching the fireflies from the wooden picnic tables that had given her more than one splinter, talking about everything from music to philosophy to their plans and dreams for the future. He was in there somewhere, she had seen it, and she was desperate to get through to him.

It was no use. His grip on her hair tightened, and he yanked her to her feet and drove his fist hard into her gut. She grunted and doubled over, trying to catch her breath. He didn't wait. He jerked her upright and began dragging her back to the supply building. She peeked around as he pulled her forward, struggling to breathe. There were two Betas flanking them, both holding guns that were pointed toward the ground. She didn't think they would actually shoot her if she managed to get away. She was their ticket to riches, their way to draw out Nelson.

Her head spun, both from lack of oxygen and a desperation to end this while there was still time. She refused to let her giant Alpha friend come and play the valiant hero again. She had to get away from these assholes, and soon, before they got a chance to play out their little scene. Even if they did shoot her, it was better than giving in. Alphas or Betas, she didn't cave to bullies.

She scowled up at Kentucky. "What about Toad, Brad? What about Prescott, and Markus, and everyone else who lost their lives to the men you're now playing toy soldiers with? You'd turn your back on them so easily?"

His jaw tightened. He kept his eyes forward, but she could feel his anger coming off him in waves. "Chid base was left untouched," he growled. "They remain unaware of what's happening here. No one else in Rico will lose their lives for this shit." He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "You were right, you know," he said, smirking. "The war is bullshit, it could have been over years ago. Nelson profits from the spoils of war. Incentives gleaned from companies shipping weapons and supplies line his personal pockets. He'd rather waste Beta lives than surrender the money flowing in from fat men in Lostra who turn a blind eye to all this bullshit." He gestured to the base around them with the hand that wasn't gripping her arm so tight, it was sure to leave bruises.

She was silent for a moment, letting herself be dragged along. What could she say to that? He was right to be pissed off. But this wasn't the answer.

They reached the screen door to the supply building, and she dug her heels into the pavement, trying to prevent him from dragging her through. It worked for half a second before he overpowered her and pushed her inside. "How is any of this my fault, Brad? How can you justify what you're doing to me? Will you kill me if Nelson doesn't show his face? You know leaving Chid wasn't my choice." Her voice was steady. She was careful not to betray the panic she felt simmering just beneath the surface. She would find a way out of this, but she risked her life in the process. The Kentucky she thought she had known wouldn't be able to hurt her, but she was unsure about this darker version that had taken over the friend she loved.

He turned to face her fully, gripping her other arm and leaning down to bring his face to hers. His rich brown eyes bore into her with an intensity that singed her like a flame. "You don't get it, Omega," he seethed, the fury in his voice catching her completely off guard. "You're not one of us, you never were. You were always a stuck-up bitch. I wasted my time on you, when I should have just fucked you and taken your job." He raked his gaze down her body and licked his lips. "It's not too late, you know. If Nelson doesn't show..."

She bit her lip, willing her tears to stay back. His words had cut her to her core. The comradery she had thought they had all fostered for one another, was all of it a lie? Had she been fooling herself into thinking she had successfully gained her medics' respect? Was that all she was to them, a stuck-up bitch they were forced to work under?

Her eyes flicked back to the screen door, mentally measuring the distance she would have to run before she could get through it. She knew she was faster than Kentucky, but not by much, and possibly not at all, considering some of her recently acquired injuries. The Torrin soldiers were behind them, apparently trusting Brad to settle the situation, and resuming their places seated on wooden supply crates filled with gods knew how many weapons. Weapons paid for with Beta blood. She was angry, too. She wanted revenge just as much as he did. But she didn't agree with this.

Especially considering she was being used as bait.

Enough was enough. She waited until his grip loosened. He dragged a finger down her cheek, along her neck, and onto her chest, drawing a circle around the lace-covered nipple exposed by her tiny, torn shirt. She scowled up at him. "You know what, Kentucky?" she growled, pulling herself to her full height, refusing to back down. "Hmm?" he said, distractedly, as he started fondling her breast.

"You're a real fucking asshole," she seethed, and kneed him hard in the groin.

He grunted and doubled over. She didn't skip a beat. Darting out the screen door, she ran full speed down the main drag, willing herself to push down the pain, to go faster, faster...

A bullet skimmed past her arm and Ivy cursed. They were going to kill her. They were really going to kill her! It was still better than being used for some misguided ransom. A bullet in the head was cleaner than a trip to the Factory. If that's what it came down to...

She ran harder, ducking as another bullet flew past her head. How far away was the Alpha barracks? She didn't know if it had been overtaken or not, but if she could get to it, maybe she could --

A familiar, oversized arm reached out from behind a building and hooked around her waist, spinning her around to nearly slam into the side of the wall. Dizzy, she looked up to see four Alphas towering over her, Officer Muscles among them. None of them were looking at her. All of them were armed to the fucking teeth and were taking aim at the Betas who were approaching, rifles raised, looking for her.

She was furious at Kentucky and what he'd done, what he'd said. Furious at herself for being so well and thoroughly fucking duped. And she knew, logically, that it was always going to come down to this. Even if they'd gotten exactly what they'd asked for, and even if they'd upheld their end of the bargain and returned her safely, the Torrins, or treasonous Lostrans, or whoever they were, would never have been allowed to walk away from this unscathed.

And yet... Despite her ripped and dirty outfit, despite her split lip and aching torso and bruised... well, everything... Despite the sting of Kentucky's betrayal and his threats and taunts...

She didn't want it to end this way.

"Stop!" she cried, pounding her bound fists against the nearest Alpha's torso. He looked down at her, his head cocked in confusion. She hit him again. "You're the ones that brought them to this! They're desperate, can't you see that?!" A second Alpha was looking at her now, concern clouding his features.

"You're safe now," he said gruffly. She bristled.

"No fucking thanks to you!" she snarled. She staggered over to her Alpha and kicked his ankle, the bond beneath her sternum thrumming unpleasantly at her obstinance. He glanced briefly down at her, as if he barely registered the fact that she was still there. "If you kill him," she warned, "I will never forgive you."

He flicked his eyes to hers, then back at the rapidly approaching Betas, oblivious to the danger they were walking toward. "They threatened your life," he growled. "That cannot be forgiven."

She wanted to scream. This was all too much. So much had happened in such a short amount of time. She felt like a leaf caught in the wind, unable to control the direction of her own movements. "Please," she begged, tugging on the fabric of his shirt. "They're just boys. Boys you helped bring to this point. I know," she said, scowling up at the giant. "I know about Nelson's deals with the Torrins. I know he feeds them information and orchestrates deaths on both fucking sides of this stupid, made-up war! This is his fault!"

Finally, he looked at her fully, searching her face with his wild storm-grey eyes. There was confusion there, she saw, and an unease that deeply troubled her. Didn't he know?

After a long, tense moment, he lowered the weapons he held in both hands, stepping back and ushering her away from his three companions. He dropped his rifle and holstered his sidearm, crouching down to cradle her face, inspecting her for damage. "You're confused, precious one. You --"

A shot rang out behind him, and then a blanket of bullets fell upon the Betas across the way. "NOOO!" she screamed, struggling against the arms that were suddenly secure around her, pulling her further back, away from the fighting.

Soon, much too soon, silence fell over the base, stifling and terrible. She felt the arms around her relax as the three unfamiliar Alphas walked back to them, entirely unscathed, like they'd just come from Sunday Brunch. She yanked herself sharply out of his grip and darted around them all, faster than he had time to react.

A graveyard of scattered bodies littered the ground, blood painting grotesque patterns on the side of the closest hangar. And there, in the middle of it all, Brad's lifeless body lay splayed out like an open wound.

Her knees gave out, and she crumpled beside him. He had threatened her, tried to use her as a hostage, was even ready to kill her.

So why did she feel a part of herself die at the sight of his dull, blank eyes?

Her vision blurred, and she closed her eyes and curled over, resting her forehead against Brad's. Someone released a terrible cry, animalistic and full of despair, and it took her full moments to realize it was coming from her. She choked on a sob, just as an arm hooked around her waisted and lifted her up. She was pulled away into warm strength, cradled like a child against a massive chest. She went limp, lost to the numbing sound of the Alpha's strong purr and the comforting thrum of the bond.

..............................

His brave Omega hadn't stirred since the death of her renegade friend. Her reaction had puzzled him, her words even more so. Naturally, he'd heard the rumors. It would have been naïve of him to believe that Nelson's attitude and actions of late did not indicate a measure of corruption and subsequent fear of exposure. But he'd assumed Nelson was merely using his position to benefit financially. Had he taken his corruption to this next, unforgivable level? Had he been feeding information to Lostra, orchestrating battles to justify staying in the hostile country? The old man had many things to answer for, but it could all wait. Most of the base had been recovered, and he left it up to the rest of the Alphas to finish the job. He had an injured, desolate mate to tend to.

He gently laid her down on the velvety couch she seemed to prefer over the bed. Her eyes stared ahead blankly. "Ivy," he purred, stroking her cheek. She looked at him, her green eyes glistening.

"He was just confused," she whispered. "It wasn't really him."

He shushed her, sliding his hands up her dirt ridden body, taking the torn fabric of her shirt from her torso. She winced and hissed as he raised her arms. Storm-cloud eyes grew dark as he took inventory of the marks and bruises that marred her perfect skin. She needed to be checked out, and she would be, just as soon as he'd given her what instincts and the discordant thrum of the bond told him she needed most.

He stripped them both until their naked bodies pressed together. He growled once, low and severe, drawing slick from her shuddering frame. His brow pressed to hers, he slipped into her, groaning at the feel of her tightening walls gripping him. She sighed and closed her eyes, arching her back to meet his slow and gentle thrusts. He nuzzled into her nape, drinking in the scent of her to assure himself that she was truly safe in his arms. He wanted to fuck her, wanted to throw himself into her with all the urgency his body demanded, but injured as she was, he held back. She needed the quiet tranquility that came from being taken, filled up and knotted by her mate. This was about her, not him.

She gasped and clutched him as she came, and like a command, his body responded, his knot firmly locking her in place beneath him. He stroked her forehead and hushed her as she cried.

He would hold his mate together as her world fell apart.