Owned: An Alpha Anthology Part 19

Fate gave me him.

Not once, but twice.

The first time, I didn't know the gift I held.

The second, I was too broken to deserve him.

FORBIDDEN FLAWS BY PEPPER WINTERS.

1.

"c.r.a.p, WHERE IS IT? Where is it?" I screamed, tearing around my dark hotel room.

When I'd arrived six hours ago, I thought the s.p.a.ce-s.h.i.+p shaped coffee table was fas.h.i.+onable, the thick ruffled curtains ideal, and the oversized walnut desk perfect. Now, I found them instigators to my demise.

"Dammit, where the h.e.l.l-"

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The smoke alarm tore through my ears, just like it had torn through my sleep. My brain shredded with the noise.

Run, Saff. Leave it.

Common-sense told me to abandon my worldly possessions and save my life, but my heart didn't want to leave behind the eight hundred page script I'd just earned, or the freshly signed contract, solidifying my spot in an A-list movie in freaking Hollywood. They were priceless. They signified winds of change-of luck and happiness coming my way.

I won't leave them behind. I won't!

I ran blindly, wis.h.i.+ng like h.e.l.l that the lights worked. The room was pitch black, worse than a tomb or crypt because I wasn't dead yet, but might be very soon if I didn't run.

Tripping over a large slippery bag, I cried out as carpet burn singed my knees. My heart plummeted, remembering the insanely expensive, and not able to afford yet, shopping spree I'd indulged in. I'd had such fun...was it only a few hours ago? Shopping in the streets of Brisbane, spending money that I had yet to be paid, designing my new life based on recommendations by couture and Vogue.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

My stomach rolled. I had to stop being so stupid. None of this stuff would matter if I were dead.

Grab the laptop. Leave everything else.

Clambering to my feet, I inched as fast as possible with my arms outstretched and eyes completely useless in the dark. Where did I put it?

I fumbled over to the desk for my computer. The only thing with a lifetime of photos on it. The only thing left of my parent's smiling faces. I was such an idiot not to upload the images onto a secondary device while I had the chance.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The shrill siren tore through my determination, sending spiders scurrying down my back.

It was too late. I had to go.

I had to leave everything behind.

I gritted my teeth and shuffled as fast as I could through the foreign room. Colliding off the wall, my fingertips followed the corners and smoothness of the perimeter, making my way as fast as possible.

Beep. Beep. Beep!

Pa.s.sport!

s.h.i.+t. I stopped, my heart hurling itself against my chest at a hundred miles an hour. My pa.s.sport. Freshly minted and locked in the safe with my one-way ticket to Los Angeles. The hotel a.s.sured me it was the safest place for such precious items-now, it was my worst enemy.

Just leave!

Beep. Beep. Beep.

My lungs sucked in air, panic whizzing in my blood. The superficial part of me wanted to stay, to guard everything that poised me for a better life, but instinct finally roared into being, kicking my ridiculous b.u.t.t and propelling me toward the exit.

Beep. Beep. Beep!

I found the door and wrenched it wide, falling into the corridor.

I blinked. The lights were off; only the emergency exit sign cast its eerie green glow, illuminating the thick gold carpet and the gorgeous aboriginal paintings of the fourteenth floor.

There was no smoke, no flames or screams or burning.

Doesn't mean the building isn't on fire.

Trying to calm my breathing, I jogged down the corridor toward the glowing sign. My blonde hair bounced and tickled my exposed back with every step.

The closer I got, the louder the sound of pounding feet echoed in the stairwell. Glad to know it wasn't just me taking their sweet time to escape.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

G.o.d, I wanted to cover my ears-the alarm almost made my ears bleed from shrieking.

Yanking open the exit door, I darted down the first flight of uncarpeted stairs. The rough concrete stung the soles of my feet but now was not a time to be precious.

Grabbing the banister, I shot down the next flight, almost careening into a man dressed in boxers and a t-s.h.i.+rt.

He looked over his shoulder, his brown eyes immediately dropping to my chest.

I flushed with horror.

Oh, my G.o.d!

My underwear!

The man smirked, jogging down another few steps, never taking his eyes off my very s.e.xy, and entirely too revealing, lingerie.

"Must say this alarm had p.i.s.sed me off, but now I'm rather happy." His face crinkled in a smug grin. "Nice get-up."

Beep. Beep. Beep.

I wanted to slap him.

My arms wrapped around my b.r.e.a.s.t.s hidden just barely in the scantily sheer Provocateur lace that I'd purchased after my audition. The G-string was silver and black, and hid exactly nothing of the fresh Brazilian wax I'd suffered all in the name of Hollywood perfection.

Mortification painted my cheeks. "Stop looking."

Beep. Beep. Beep.

He laughed. "Shouldn't wear something like that if you don't want blokes to look." Giving me a wink, he turned away and disappeared down the stairs with a tsunami of people pouring in from the other levels.

Half-naked and fully dressed bodies swarmed around me, all descending as fast as possible.

I knew I should move, but my legs were frozen. I couldn't go outside like this!

Beep. Beep. Beep.

You're in a burning building with the smoke alarm repeating that your life is in peril. Leave, Saff, for G.o.d's sake.

Hating myself and the idiocy of my knickers, I hurled myself down the next flight of stairs. There were no drapes or upholstery to snag and hide my indecency-there was nothing left to do but run.

My toes gripped the concrete; I tried my hardest not to think of people watching my mostly naked b.u.t.t.

The stairwell echoed with the mind-splintering alarm and people's urgent voices. The walls hemmed us in, closing heavier and heavier with claustrophobia.

I wanted out. I wanted fresh air and safety. Lengthening my stride, I took two steps at a time-my bare feet nimble.

Beep Be- The alarm cut off-strangled, leaving blistering silence in its wake.

I looked up to the ceiling, expecting to see flames attacking the warning system, but there was nothing-just a pure white ceiling.

Then I was blinded as bright fluorescents switched on, drenching the non-descript stairwell and perspiring guests with light.

The intercom clicked into life.

"There is no cause for alarm. We apologise for the inconvenience. We repeat, there is no cause for alarm."

Static and crackle interrupted the speaker before continuing: "Please, return to your rooms at your earliest convenience. There is no fire, just a faulty connection with our electrical system. We repeat, the local fire station has a.s.sured us it's a false alarm. You are encouraged to return to your rooms. We apologise again for this inconvenience."

"Inconvenience? A mad run at three f.u.c.king a.m.? That's more than a d.a.m.n inconvenience," a man with a beer belly growled.

A woman with two snivelling children scowled. "b.l.o.o.d.y fantastic. We have a flight in three hours. No way will I get them back to sleep."

Grumbles and curses rose from the displaced and rudely awoken guests.

My own annoyance sat heavy on my chest, but in reality, I would've preferred the mad dash than burning alive in my bed-half-naked or not.

Shuffles and footsteps changed direction, trading jogging for an angry plod back up to their rooms.

Wives stalked past with bleary-eyed husbands, their curled upper lips shouting just what they thought of my attire, while their husbands did their best not to get caught gawking.

Keeping one arm around my chest and the other pointed between my legs, I swallowed my pride and turned around, following the herd upstairs. So what-children and fat men could see my G-stringed b.u.t.t. In a few months, my b.r.e.a.s.t.s would be broadcast on every movie screen around the world. Fellow actors would touch me in places not many people had, producers would order me to make my 'c.u.m face' more believable, and old high school friends would witness the full frontal that I'd agreed to do to land the role.

Embarra.s.sment had no room in my world anymore-not if I wanted a successful career.

It's just skin.

c.o.c.king my chin, I dropped my arms, and climbed the rest of the stairs with shaky confidence.

FORBIDDEN FLAWS BY PEPPER WINTERS.

2.

THE MOMENT I charged through the heavy fire door and back onto my floor, I grabbed a glossy magazine-the only thing on the skinny side table-and fanned the pages against my chest while striding toward my door.

Sure, it was only skin, but I had to cultivate my confidence. Baby steps.

I couldn't expect to be the sleek, poised actress I portrayed at my audition overnight. After all, I came from a small town a few hours from Sydney. I'd been on my own for six years, since my parents died in a horrible bush fire, and used the measly life insurance to pay for a course in drama.

Every day had been a struggle.

Every day I ached for company.

And every d.a.m.n day I looked at the poster of Los Angeles and vowed that I would make it.

The day my parents died, I died, too. I cut myself off from friends-removed myself from the human race-and spent my time as a hermit. It wasn't until I realised I'd been acting impeccably when asked the question 'how are you' that my coping mechanism had given me a way to freedom. I could create a world where I'd become different characters with different problems and heartaches-I would be safe from feeling the truth.

I would be a chameleon.

Reaching my door, in the regiment of other doors, I pressed down on the handle.

I frowned as it didn't budge.

I pressed on the handle...

s.h.i.+t!

Of course, it's locked. And where was the key? In the stupid switch that permitted lights to turn on-inside the room.

"Great," I groaned, pressing my forehead against the smooth veneer. Not only was it three a.m., but I now had to head to reception and ask for a spare key.