7 Degrees of Alpha (a collection of seven new BWWM, Alpha Male Romances) by et al Phoenix Daniels Sara Allen Page A

both knew where they stood now, and with the understanding came a sense of ease, a sense that they knew where they belonged.
     

Seven
    08:25 a.m. November 17, 2004
     
    Val drove herself to work the next day for the first time in a long while. She breathed a sigh of relief, not because she had finally gotten away from her overbearing beau, but because she’d claimed back a measure of her independence. She parked and walked to the gallery’s back entrance as she dug through her bag to retrieve her ringing phone. Jones had been calling her nearly every ten minutes to check up on her.
    After the twelfth call since she’d left home that morning, she answered the phone and snapped, “If you call me again, I'm turning off my phone! This is too much. Seriously!”
    “If you do that, I won’t be responsible for my actions,” Jones warned her.
    “You’re driving me insane!” she said, her hand clawing through her hair in exasperation.
    “It’s your own fault,” Jones told her reasonably, “You insisted on driving yourself. If I’d driven you, I’d know where you were.”
    “Okay! Fine, but when I crash into oncoming traffic, you’ll be the one to blame because you distracted me!” she snapped again.
    She was going to lose her mind because of him. As much as she loved him, he was a persistent handful. He was demanding with a capital D.
    “I wouldn’t do that either if I were you. Do you know what kind of cleanup operation a Road Traffic Accident causes?” Jones teased her.
    “Bye!”
    Jones laughed into the phone, “I’ll call you in an hour.”
    “Whatever,” Val replied as she punched the button, cutting him off mid-laugh.
    Exasperatingly annoying man!
    Val walked the last few steps towards the back entrance of the gallery. This early in the morning, the public doors at the front of the gallery would be closed. She rang the bell, waving at the security camera that she knew was watching her every move. Val heard a scuffle behind her, but before she could turn, she felt hands grab her, restricting her movements. Someone was dragging her backward while pressing their hand over her mouth, preventing her scream from escaping.
    She took a breath to let out another scream and felt herself becoming drowsy. Val fought for consciousness for as long as she could, which wasn’t nearly long enough. The sticky, cloying, chemical taste coated her tongue, wrapping around her throat, loosening her limbs and making her lethargic.
    The last coherent thought she had was, Jones is going to be extremely pissed!
     

****
    09:45 a.m. November 17, 2004
     
    “Pick up the damn phone, woman!” Jones spat into the phone. He’d been calling Val for the last fifteen minutes nonstop. There was no way she would have turned off the phone, even if she’d threatened to do it. Val knew, he’d take forever to forgive her, and she wouldn’t hear the end of it if she did! So why the hell Val wasn’t answering her phone, Jones didn’t know, but he had an uneasy feeling in his gut. A feeling he didn’t even want to explore, but had to.
    “Still no answer?” Doug asked, apprehension showing in the easy-going man’s stance.
    “No!”
    “Maybe she went to the ladies’ room, and didn’t take her phone with her,” Doug reasoned.
    “She knew I would call her, so she wouldn’t have done that.”
    “Maybe the battery died from all the calling,” Doug said again.
    “No. Something isn’t right. She would have called me back by now because she’d know I’d be there looking for her.” Jones told Doug, as he reached for his jacket, determination in his step.
    “Where are you going?” Doug asked.
    Jones gave him a look that said if he had to ask, then he didn’t know him at all.
    “Hang on! Wait for me!” Doug scrambled to grab his jacket, running after Jones as he stormed through the station office floor, making for the outside.
     

****
    10:45 a.m. November 17, 2004
     
    Jones just barely kept within the speed limit, cursing