The Alpha's a b***h, Book Three, Chapter 6
THE SOUND OF MUSIC blaring, horns honking and loud chatter filled the air. But it was an airplane flying overhead that shook – rattled really – the darkness of his confines. And he quickly lifted the lid to find himself fully clothed – in his torturer’s garments – in a BFI garbage bin in some poor old transient’s scorching hot alley. Cardboard boxes, wine and beer bottles, old newspapers and cigarette butts were everywhere; along with the tiger striped cat with fish scales dangling from its chompers, running through a hole at the base of an abandoned brick townhouse.
Twisting his head to see down both sides of the alley, there were large groups of people walking along the sidewalks to and fro. He soon realized that this was all unfamiliar territ
