Owned: An Alpha Anthology Part 51

011.

I wake up during the night due to extreme thirst to an empty, quiet house. As I sit up, my head aches as if my brain is sliding around inside it and bashing against my skull and I groan, forcing myself to move to get more painkillers.

As I stand in the kitchen, drinking and self-medicating, I can't help but notice my laptop open and on the kitchen table. I'm sure I didn't leave it there...

I head over and hit the s.p.a.ce bar, bringing the screen to life before entering my pa.s.sword. And I almost drop my water gla.s.s as I see the encrypted file, sitting open on the screen. "What?" I ask myself, wondering how in the world I did this and figuring I must be a better hacker drunk than I am sober. I scroll through the names, my mouth wide open and my headache forgotten as I see the money that's changed hands with names I recognise of people I respect... people like...

"You didn't tell me you cracked the file," a voice says from behind me, and slowly, I turn around and come face to face with Gabby, the woman who is supposed to be my best friend, and she has a gun trained on me.

"What are you doing, Gabby?" I ask, although I know exactly what she's doing. I realise that the figure from the video that I believed was a small man, was actually her. I knew it the moment I saw her name on the list. Suddenly, I understand why she was so friendly to me after Drake was reported dead. She knew he wasn't and was staying close to me, waiting for the day he returned so she could finish the job.

"I can't let you share that information with anyone, Caitlin," she explains, pulling a silencer out of her pocket and s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g it to the barrel of her gun.

"I really wasn't going to. I only sent it to you. You're the only one who knows."

"I hope so. I'm not a huge fan of this...clean up work. But it's a necessary task, I'm afraid."

"You're the one who shot Agent Eric Blackwood, aren't you?" I ask, trying to get her talking so I can think of a way to get out of this.

"He found the payroll too. And he wouldn't leave it alone. We couldn't let him live, I mean, you just saw how much money is at stake," she says, moving around the house to make sure I'm really here on my own. "No Drake visit tonight?" she asks. "I thought you two were getting cozy together again."

"No. No Drake. Just me."

"That's a shame. I would have liked to tie that end up too. But, no matter, I'll just be sure to pin your death on him as well. One more felony isn't really going to matter to a man like him, anyway," she laughs, c.o.c.king the gun and taking aim.

"Wait," I yell, my brain searching for something to keep her talking. "Who was it with you in the video? Emery?"

This earns me a laugh. "No. Emery would never stray from the cause. He's one hundred percent a straight arrow."

"Then who?" I ask and she shakes her head.

"This isn't a movie, Caitlin. You don't get to find out everything before you die. Sometimes. You just die."

I see movement behind her. Drake. My eyes go wide and I try so hard not to watch him and alert her to his presence. She points the gun at my head. I hold my breath and close my eyes.

Bang.

DEEP COVER: CASE 001.

BY LILLIANA ANDERSON.

012.

My eyes slowly flit open, and I'm keenly aware of the fact that I'm not at home anymore. I'm also keenly aware of the fact that I'm not dead. I swallow, my mouth so dry that I begin to cough and sit up, looking around for water.

"Easy. Easy," a female voice says softly. "You've been out for quite some time. Seems that you fainted when Drake shot that woman who was attacking you."

"Is she dead? Where the h.e.l.l am I?" I croak, reaching out my hand to accept the gla.s.s she hands to me, gulping it down quickly.

"She is, and you're somewhere safe," she tells me, running a delicate hand through her dark blonde hair as she sits on the end of the bed. In the low light, I can see that she has piercing blue eyes, porcelain white skin and a full mouth. If I'd met her under any other circ.u.mstances, I'd think she was some sort of a model.

"Who are you? How did I even get here? What's going on?" I ask.

She smiles. "Quite the one for questions, aren't you?"

I narrow my eyes. "That isn't an answer."

"Drake and Jared brought you here. They saved you."

"Jared? Who's Jared?"

"You know him as 'Gavin'. But he's a friend, and he's been watching over you for some time."

"He what?" I ask, my mind reeling. "What are you talking about? Are you trying to say that Gavin was sent to me?" I ask, feeling my body begin to shake as I feel a wave of anger at yet another male deception in my life.

"Jared was, yes. He was sent to watch over you by Aiden. Aiden was hired by Drake."

"Aiden who?" I demand, and her smile tells me everything I need to know. "Aiden Price?"

"You are as smart as he says you are," she grins. "Are you hungry? Can I get something for you?"

"You can get me out of here," I demand, tears threatening my eyes as I realise that what I had with Gavin, or Jared, or whoever he is, isn't real either. "I just want to go home."

"You can't do that right now. Your house is a crime scene."

"What? Oh G.o.d. Of course it is. I can't even..." I shake my head and close my eyes, feeling the last of my strength slip away.

"I'll get you a sandwich, and perhaps some tea," she says, completely ignoring my distress as she rises from the bed.

"Wait. You didn't tell me your name," I state before she reaches the door and she turns back, leaning against its frame as she meets my questioning gaze.

"No. I didn't."

"Am I a prisoner?"

"That depends on if you try to leave. I'll be back shortly with something for you to eat. I'm sure you're starved."

And with that, she leaves, closing the door behind her. Immediately, I stand, my legs feeling wobbly, and my bladder full. Off to the side, I see a door that I a.s.sume is a bathroom, and I head inside to relieve myself and splash some water on my face.

When I'm done, I make my way to the main door of the room, fully expecting it to be locked. But it isn't.

Pulling it open just a crack, I look out into a well-lit hallwayit kind of looks like a dormitory, with concrete floors and plain with walls that house doors to at least nine other rooms. I step out cautiously, looking both directions before deciding to go to my left.

Instinctively, I fold my arms around me, a chill settling on the bare skin of my arms as a draft flows through my clothing. I'm still dressed in only a thin cotton nightgown with no shoes to protect my feet. I'm not sure what my plan is, but I'm not one to sit idly in a room without being given any answers.

When I get to the end of the hall, there's a small alcove where the hall curves and leads to another door, which is once again open. When I push through, I find myself in a large, aluminium warehouse, with ma.s.sive roller doors and vehicles parked in rows that cover one half of it. In the other half, are a few areas that have been sectioned off for various purposesone is filled with desks and computers. Another seems to be some sort of viewing or planning area, and there are also other rooms with windows that appear to be an industrial kitchen and a dining room. I turn on the spot, taking in the enormousness of the building, seeing more doors, more roomssome with security locks and some that appear to be freely opened, and I feel as though I've been brought to a covert operations base, not unlike Site Seventeen but far larger in scale.

"Hey," a male voice says suddenly. "Are you ok?" Turning toward the direction of the voice, I find myself almost bursting into tears as I come face to face with the man I thought I had something with. The man I thought was with me because he cared about me. But now, I find out that for three years, I never even knew his name.

"Of course I'm lost. I don't even know where I am," I respond, the cool of the warehouse causing me to shiver uncontrollably. "I don't even know who you are."

Closing his eyes, as if in pain, he nods. "I'm sorry," he whispers.

"Was any of it real?" I ask, as a tear sneaks out of my eye and makes it way down my cheek. I swipe at it, angrily as I glare up at him.

He frowns. "You're cold," he states, reaching over his head in that way guys do, and pulling off his sweater for me to wear.

"I'm fine," I insist stubbornly while I continue to shake with my arms folded around me for warmth.

"Don't be like that. Put it on." He reaches out and places it over my head anyway, and immediately, I'm flooded by the warmth of his body. I'm dwarfed by its size, as it almost hits me at my knees, the sleeves hanging well past my hands. "Here," he whispers, reaching down to roll up the sleeves, and when he's done, he meets my eyes. "For what it's worth, it was real for me. It started out as a job, but it became something more."

"Just leave me alone. Please," I whisper, feeling hurt as I close my eyes and he reaches out, pressing a kiss to my forehead before striding away from me. He covers the distance between me and the hallway I just came from, and in a few steps disappears through the door. As it clunks shut, the sound echoes through the large s.p.a.ce, leaving me feeling incredibly tiny as I wonder if this is perhaps an old aircraft hangar.

Glancing over at the kitchen, I decide to head over there in search of the woman who was with me when I woke up, and as soon as I open the door she looks up from where she's placing a sandwich on a plate and smiles at me as if we're friends.

"I would have brought it to you," she states as she slides the plate toward me, along with a bottle of water.

At first, I don't want to touch the food, even though my stomach has started to growl at the sight of it. I have a slight fear that it may be laced with something to keep me compliant, and sensing my trepidation, she picks up a half and takes a bite.

"It's perfectly safe." She chews and then opens her mouth when she's swallowed to prove she ate it.

Then slowly, I move forward and pick up a half of the ham and salad sandwich she's made for me and bite into it hungrily.

"See? I knew you'd be hungry." She turns around and sets about putting things away as I eat and drink, then she turns to me with a smile. "Better?" she asks when I'm finished.

I nod. "Yes. Thank you."

"I saw you talking to Jared," she notes. "It was him you know. He's the one who opened that file for you. He's like this, uber hacker, he can do anything with a computer. He opened that file, hoping it would help you get your job back. But it only made things worse. Now he's in even more s.h.i.t with Drake and Aiden than he was before."

"Before?"

"Yes. He was supposed to watch you, not date you."

I drop my eyes. "I see."

"Well, I'm sure it will work itself out. People tend to find each other through the mess."

At that moment, a loud clicking sound signals the movement of one of the large roller doors, and we turn our heads to look toward the daylight as it pours in through the opening and a black Land Cruiser drives in.

"Looks like they're back," the woman, whose name I still don't know, comments as the 4WD pulls to a stop not far inside the door. The click sounds again, and the mechanism reverses, closing the door and blocking out the day once more.

Something in my chest tightens, and I feel my heart begin to beat a little faster as I watch and wait, knowing that Drake is about to appear before my eyes. I hate that this is happening, and I know that the 'something' is my body reacting to him in that biological way it always has, regardless of what my mind says.

I should be furious at him. I should have hatred, burning in my heart over the mess he's made of my life, but as he gets out of the car and extends to his full height, all I can do is stare and remember his mouth on mine, and his hand between my thighs...

Drake Jefferson cuts a very fine figure as he strides toward us, his lean build evident through the fitted army green t-shirt he wears tucked into a pair of jeans that fit so well my mouth goes dry just watching him.

Catching my eye, he grins that grin of his that I know so well. It tells me that he knows what he does to me and in response, I fix a scowl upon my face and turn away from him, refusing to turn around again, even when I feel his presence behind me.

Instead, I focus my attention on Aiden as he moves into my line of sight and stands next to the woman, his broad shoulders and height making her appear tiny in comparison. Actually, among the three men in this building, both she and I seem elf-like.

"Agent Samuels," Aiden says in recognition of my presence. "It's been a long time."

"Five years," I reply. "And as far as I'm aware, there's still a warrant out for your arrest."

"I doubt that," he smiles, folding his arms in front of him as he leans against the benchtop.

I narrow my eyes, wondering why the warrant wouldn't still be in force and I'm just about to ask when Drake speaks up behind me.

"What the h.e.l.l is she wearing?" he demands.

"My jumper. She was cold," Jared replies immediately from the doorway, and I close my eyes, not wanting to face the two men who made me care but led me astray. "If you were so concerned about what she was wearing, maybe you should have grabbed some of her clothes before we left, or perhaps given her something of yours to wear instead of leaving her in that tiny nightgown when you brought her back here."

"I like her just fine in that nightgown," Drake responds, still behind me, and I have to fight the feeling that his voice sets off within my body. "What I don't like her in, is your f.u.c.king sweatshirt."

"Then maybe you should have done something to get back to her sooner instead of leaving her in my care for three years," Jared shoots back.

"You were supposed to watch her Jared! Be her friend! Not her f.u.c.king lover."

I turn to watch as Jared steps up to Drake, both of them almost eye to eye as they stare each other down.

"Mate, before this week, I didn't even know you. So, I don't owe you a f.u.c.king thing. My boss is standing right over there," Jared growls, pointing over at Aiden. "He told me to take care of her, and that's what I did. For three years. And I fell for her. You weren't here for her, and I was. You don't get a f.u.c.king say."

"Oh, for f.u.c.k's sake," the woman interjects, reaching out and grabbing my hand. "She isn't property for you to fight over. I'll give her some clothes of mine if you'll both stop squabbling like a pair of babies." And with a shake of her head, she pulls me along behind her and takes me down the hallway to a room that is much nicer than the one I was in. This one is decorated and looks more like a room in someone's home instead of just a dorm room. "Here," she says, handing me a pair of leggings and a fitted tank top with an in-built bra. She digs through another drawer and hands me a t-shirt that says 'Choose Life' on the front of it that drops off my shoulder and hangs just below my a.r.s.e when I pull it over my head. "He can't b.i.t.c.h about you in another man's clothing now."

I rake my fingers through my unruly dark hair and gratefully accept the hair elastic she hands me before twisting my hair up into a ponytail. "Well he doesn't really get a say anymore. Gavin, I mean, Jared, is right, he hasn't been much of a husband for the past four years."

"But Jared, has he been there for you?"

"He has. But... it wasn't real. It was a job."

"It sounded real out there to me. Looks like you've got a bit of a tug of war on your hands."

"I'm not going to be the rope in that game."