Track 33 Apologize

I don't mean to fall asleep in the car. Truly I d0n't. I just want to get wherever they're taking me without talking about anything, so I lean my head on the window and close my eyes as soon as I'm buckled in, pretending to be so exhausted I can't keep my eyes open. Well, not pretending . I am exhausted. Bone deep.

I need time to figure out how to deal with this. My nature is telling me to just forgive them, sweep it under the rug and part amicably. I hate the idea of any of them feeling upset because of me. And while I'm pretty sure I don't want to be with them anymore—how can I when they so easily threw me away?—I don't want to make them feel bad.

I know it was a misunderstanding. I know they've had trouble in their past with people using their pack for personal gain.

The Cordova pack has walls as high as a tower and so many defenses. Defenses anyone who wants to be close to them needs to get through. I thought I was getting through them, breaking them down. I thought they wanted me as much as I wanted them. Silly Sorrel.

I also know that I'm tired of just smiling and going along with whatever anyone says. Being agreeable to keep everyone else happy and comfortable. I need to be better about not being a doormat. If I've learned anything in the last month with the Stillwell pack, and Apex and the Cordovas, it's that I have to stand up for myself. No one else is going to do it for me.

Resolve hardened, I let my chest rise and fall in a steady rhythm. Gage, sitting in the driver's seat, might be able to tell I'm faking. But if he does, he doesn't say anything, just slides his hand onto my thigh as we wait for the fifth member of our ‘merry' band to join us.

As soon as Grayson was in the car, I feel the vehicle move. No one says anything at all, but not long after, the two alphas in the back began purring for their omega, cuddling him close, while I feign sleep.

It shouldn't hurt, but it does. That I'm the one that was taken hostage and nearly blown up, and he's the one that gets their comfort, their care.

But I don't know what else I expected. Gage was the only one that hugged me at the police station, the only one who said he needed to touch me. And the Cordova pack has made it more than clear that they don't want me.

I still have no idea why they showed up at all, why they're still here. Why would they even bother?

That is the thought that plays on a constant loop in my head as I drift off.

Why would they bother when they made it so clear they wanted nothing to do with me?

I wake up disoriented and achy. Everything hurts. At first I think it's because I've been sleeping in a car, sitting upright, but then I realize I am definitely laying down on a soft fluffy mattress with luxurious sheets and a soft light taupe comforter. The pillow under my head feels like a cloud, and I realize with some trepidation that I'm not wearing a lot of clothing.

Groaning, I lift the blanket and look down at my body. My legs are bare and I'm only in an oversized t-shirt that smells like lemon blueberry cheesecake. I blink at the hand clutching the blanket and realize it's still got dirt and soot on it, though it looks cleaner than it did at the police station last night.

So they stripped off my clothes but didn't bathe me.

I suppose I should be grateful that they gave me at least some privacy. I am alone currently, though there is a faint whiff of all of their scents in the air, so I don't know how long that has been the case. Twisting my head, I cautiously smell the pillow. None of the pack scents linger on the fabric. Or on the sheets and blanket. They didn't sleep with me.

Groaning again, muscles protesting, I push into a sitting position and look around the unfamiliar room. White walls, pale wood accents, taupe and white bedding and decorations. There's a dresser on the wall at the foot of the bed with a TV on it, and a little table over to the right in front of a window. Two doors on opposite sides of the room, one likely leads to a bathroom and the other to the rest of wherever we're staying.

I can faintly hear a TV playing somewhere, on what sounds like a news station by the no nonsense tone of voice, but I can't make out the words.

Sitting on the bedside table next to me is a lamp, a full glass of water with condensation beading on the outside, and two white pills with a note that instructs me to drink the water and take the painkillers.

The first I do without hesitation, I feel dehydrated as all get out and know I need the liquid. The painkillers I ignore, though, because I don't know what the hell they are. Not that I think they would drug me or anything. They might think I'm an awful person, but I don't think that about them at all.

It's mostly that I was drugged and kidnapped yesterday, and I don't relish the idea of putting more chemicals in my body.

I regret that decision almost as soon as I stand up, pushing to my feet with another groan. Still, I hobble all the way to the closest door and carefully open it, only to close it again when I find it opens directly into a living space as unfamiliar as the bedroom I woke up in. I catch a flash of movement, so I know someone's out there. I just don't know who and frankly, I don't have the energy to deal with it right now.

So I flip the lock on the handle and shuffle over to the other door, letting out a relieved breath when I find the bathroom. Avoiding looking in the mirror because I don't want to see what a hot mess I actually am, I sit on the toilet to pee, wash my hands and then flip on the shower. Hopefully, I'll be able to find something to wear that isn't Liam's shirt, even if it smells divine and I kind of never want to take it off.

I make myself do it, dropping the fabric on the floor and stepping over it to enter the glass walled shower. I hiss when the hot spray hits my scraped and sensitive skin, but it's worth it when the steady spray kneads my muscles, releasing some of the tension there.

It feels so good that I just stay like that for far too long. Until my hands are pruning and my skin is flushed bright red from the heat. Only then do I use the fancy expensive soap, shampoo and conditioner. I note that it's specifically for wavy to curly hair and feel a little pang in my chest that they obviously bought it for me, that they thought about my needs enough to get me hair products that work for my unruly hair.

It's not enough. Not by a long shot, but it pushes me more into the ‘parting of ways amicably' territory.

It's probably what they want too. After all, I woke up in what is clearly a hotel room, not their pack house. If they wanted to get back together with me, wanted to make this right, wanted to try again, wouldn't they have brought me home with them? Tucked me into Liam's nest? Wouldn't I have woken up surrounded by them? By the pack they wanted me to be a part of?

No, them showing up at the Apex Facility and then at the police station is just… guilt. A misguided sense of responsibility. Or something similar. It can't be anything else.

With that thought in mind, I flip off the water and use the fluffy white towels to dry off and squeeze the water out of my hair, before finding a leave in conditioner and a curl creme on the counter that I work through my waves with my fingers, scrunching them up to help enhance them.

It's actually pretty rare I get the chance to do this. Working in a restaurant, more often than not, my hair is up in a bun or a ponytail, out of the way and off my neck to keep me from overheating, so there isn't a point to working with my waves.

When I'm done, I exit the bathroom in only a towel, drawing up short when I find the bed made and a neat stack of clothing on the foot of the mattress. I eye the bed, then the door, knowing I locked it and wondering like hell why they thought it would be a good idea to invade my privacy and space like that, but I guess they brought me clothes so I can overlook it.

Although when I see what they provided, a strangled sound of frustration leaves me. Liam's sweatpants, Grayson's t-shirt, Gage's hoodie, a pair of wool socks that smell like Rafe. No underwear or a bra, nothing of my own. Or hell, something new would have been preferable.

Surely they could have gone to Target or something and bought me new clothes.

Or maybe they didn't want to spend any money on me.

Maybe, despite them showing up at the Apex facility, they still think I only want them for their fame and fortune, and they don't want to give me even one cent.

I don't blame them.

But I also don't want to go out there smelling like a member of their pack when I'm not.

I leave the clothing on the bed and wander to the dresser, pulling open drawers, until I find- "Jackpot," I murmur, pulling out a pair of complimentary hotel sweatpants and a t-shirt with the Falcon Hotel logo on it.

I don't waste time pulling them on, and don't spare another glance at the pile of sweetly scented clothing before I head into the living room with my chin tipped up, ready to face them.

No. Who am I kidding? I'm really not ready to face them. But I have to do it, anyway. I can't stay trapped in a hotel room for the rest of my life. Even if it is a very luxurious hotel room. I make a mental note to tell Sadie's pack that they're doing it right with their hotel. Ten out of ten. Would recommend for anyone to stay after they've been kidnapped and nearly killed.

So, I stride out into the living area of the suite ready for battle only to find it… empty. Very, very empty.

Disappointment and hurt hit hard and fast, nearly swallowing me whole. Here I was thinking they'd be waiting for me to come out, eager to talk to me and instead I'm alone. Again.

I look around, taking in the space, the small kitchenette, the living area with the TV still on, covering the explosion at Apex. There's another bedroom on the other side of the space from the one I woke up in that I can just make out through the open door.

It's empty as well.

I wander into the kitchen for another glass of water. I could really use a cup of green tea right now. It would help to clear up the lingering headache and fog left over from the drugs and the trauma.

I get the water first, gulping it down in four quick swallows, and then move to the electric kettle. It's already full and next to it is a tin of the fancy green tea that I love but never get because it's too expensive. There's a sticky note with a heart drawn on it stuck to the metal. Next to it is a platter of pastries and another of fruit.

That's sweet and all, but where the hell is everyone? Why the hell am I alone?

I turn on the kettle and munch on the fruit and a scone while it heats. My stomach gurgles happily now that there's food in it. By the time the kettle clicks off, I've devoured most of the fruit, the scone, a croissant and half of a muffin. I'll regret that later, I'm sure.

As I'm pouring water over my tea bag, my eyes flick up to the TV again and I'm about to look away when the words on the screen catch my attention and don't let it go. Exclusive Live Interview with the Cordova Pack, coming up next. Before it fades to a commercial.

My heart sinks right down to my toes. That's where they are? At an interview? That's what was more important than being here when I woke up after being drugged and kidnapped?

I know Liam is a public figure, and I get that it's important for him to do things like this. It just seems like maybe they could have put it off for a day or two. If they actually cared about me, they would.

But then… who said that they care about me? The last time I saw Grayson, spoke to him, he accused me of manipulating him and his pack. I must only be here because of that stupid sense of responsibility. Or maybe it was actually Sadie and her pack that set me up with the room and the tea and the food. I have no idea since I apparently slept through all of checking in.

If that were the case, why is there a stack of clothes on the bed that smells like your pack? That has to mean something, right? I shake my head at the thought. Clothing or not, the fact remains that they left me to go do an interview.

And where the hell is Gage?

Why isn't he here?

He can't possibly be with the Cordova pack about to go on live television. He's made it clear that he doesn't want to be a part of their pack, of any pack.

The TV flashes, and I realize I stood here in a daze while the entire commercial break played and now… Well, now the Cordova pack is on the screen and Gage is with them. It doesn't make any sense at all. I scramble toward the remote and mash the volume button until I can hear the interviewer, Guilia Hanson.

"And who might you be?" That question could have been sleazy or flirty, but Guilia's face is completely professional as she looks at Gage.

"Gage Wagner."

"The newest member of the Cordova pack," Liam cuts in proudly.

I choke on my tea and cough, trying to hear what else is being said over the sound of my hacking and my own swirling thoughts, but I can't. Gage joined the Cordova pack? Why would he do that? He told me he would never. He said they aren't his pack. He told me I'd have to choose between him and them, but in the end it didn't matter because they decided they didn't want me, anyway.

Did he decide the same thing? That I'm just not worth it? That he'd rather be with a pack with wealth and fame than to stick it out with me? Did he do the very same thing he accused me of?

"What do you mean, one of them at least?" Guilia says, drawing me back to the interview.

"Well, we haven't really asked her yet," Liam says, looking handsomely sheepish.

"She?"

"Sorrel Forbes," Gray says, sounding firm and powerful. "The beta that everyone has been accusing of breaking our hearts."

Rafe scowls at the camera, arms folded over his chest, making his muscles bulge threateningly. "Everyone really needs to stop doing that."

"She didn't break our hearts," Liam says, shaking his head sadly. "We broke hers."

"All of us," Gage adds, leaning forward in his chair. "And we're working to make it up to her."

"Hopefully, it works," Gray says with a charming smile. I hate everyone in the world is seeing it right now. A small, bitter part of my soul only wants him to smile like that at me. "We'd like nothing more than for Sorrel Forbes to be ours."

"Ah, I see. Will she be joining us?" My brows furrow at the question.

"Nah," Rafe shakes his head. "Our girl isn't a fan of the spotlight."

"She's also still recovering from recent events," Gage adds.

I glance around the room I'm in, not fully understanding what the hell is happening. Are they… claiming me publicly without my presence or my input? The nerve of those assholes to go on a live fucking interview and tell the world that I'm going to be a part of their pack!

Without even asking me first!

I mean, sure, we planned on making the same announcement, but that was before everything happened. Before they decided I couldn't be trusted. Before Gage gave me an ultimatum. Before they hurt me so badly, I'm not sure I'll ever recover.

Scowling, frustration rises and I have the inexplicable urge to do something. To… I don't yell at them or kiss them. Or to at least confront them about doing this without talking to me. My eyes flick around the screen, searching for clues about where they are. It only takes me a moment to realize that the room they're in is a duplicate of the one I'm sitting in, except the throw blankets are gray and not taupe. So they must still be in the hotel, maybe even on this floor?

I slide the cup onto the coffee table and stumble toward what I assume is the door to the hall, yanking it open without a thought, only to draw up short when I'm greeted by a broad back covered in a black suit jacket and the scent of leather and musk.

The alpha turns to glance down at me, one brow arched in surprise. "Miss Forbes."

I shift on my bare feet and flash him a smile. "Hi, sorry, I don't know your name."

"Jensen."

"Jensen," I repeat, tucking my still damp hair behind my ears with my smile firmly in place. Even though my heart is thundering and I have this all-consuming need to go to them. "Is- Are the Cordova pack nearby? I'd like to speak to them."

His face remains impassive, but he steps away from the door and motions down the hall. "Room 7002."

"Thank you," I breathe before I hurry in the direction he pointed. Though, it's not really all that hard to find since there are only two doors in this hall and there's another guard standing in front of the second one.

I expect to be turned away, to be told that no one can enter while they're filming, but the guard just moves to the side and uses a key card to unlock the door for me. It beeps and flashes green and he pushes it open, giving me a nod as I slip through.

Maybe this isn't the smartest thing to do. After all, I don't recognize either of the guards in the hall, and I don't know for certain that this is where the Cordova pack and Gage actually are… But I can't just stay still.

I slip into the room and take in the scene before me: the cameras, the film crew, the lights, the interviewer in her crisp suit and blouse, and then in the middle of it all the four men who have absolutely stolen my heart. All of them are looking at me.

That's not even an exaggeration. There's a camera pointed directly at me as I stumble forward a step, suddenly acutely aware of my damp wavy hair and that I don't have a bra or panties on, that I'm just in sweats and a t-shirt without a stitch of makeup. The bruises and cuts I received during my ordeal are fully on display.

I probably look a little crazed and a lot tired and definitely not at all like I belong with this pack.

But not one of the four men staring at me looks like any of that matters. They just look… so happy to see me, that I'm here with them.

"Sorry," I say quietly. So quietly that I'm sure the camera can't pick it up. "I didn't… I shouldn't have…" I take a step back. "I'll just talk to you later."

"No," Gray growls out, holding out a hand to me. "Don't go, sweet thing."

Rafe pushes to his feet, and the crew members hiss warnings he ignores. He crosses to me in a few strides, pulling me into his chest and burying his face in my neck. My feet leave the ground as he lifts me up, toes dangling toward the floor. I stick my nose into the curve of his strong throat, sucking down lungfuls of his winter forest scent and feeling settled for the first time in days.

"Why aren't you wearing our clothes?" he murmurs into my hair as he carries me through the cameras and the people to the rest of my pack.

I mumble a response that isn't really a response because he already knows why. He must. I was— am —on such shaky ground with them, I couldn't possibly wrap myself up in their scents. I wasn't sure I wanted to. Wasn't sure if I should.

He grunts something and carries me over to the rest of the pack, settling back into his spot on the couch with me sideways on his lap, his arms banded around me so that I couldn't escape even if I wanted to. Gage is to our left with my legs draped over his lap, with Gray on his other side. And Liam is on our right, doesn't waste any time reaching over and lacing his hand with mine, unashamedly bringing my hand to his mouth to press a lingering kiss to my knuckles. I swear every woman in the room sighs at the romantic gesture, and some men too. Gray wraps one of his big hands around my ankle, like he has to touch any part of me he can reach, and Gage grips my thigh possessively.

It feels so fucking good to have all four of them near me, touching me. After the trauma of the last few days and the heartbreak before that, it's tempting to just… sink into them. But I can't.

Hence why I didn't put on their clothes.

Though I'm regretting the lack of coverage now. Especially since I'm not wearing a freaking bra. I look at Giulia Hanson with wide eyes. "Is this… Are we live?"

She looks over at a man holding a clipboard who nods. "Yes, I'm afraid we are."

My stomach clenches with nerves and I know the men around me can smell it, because they immediately start to purr for me. Every one of them. On national television. My cheeks grow hot, and I can't look at anyone even as my muscles slowly unclench, the low rumble doing its job.

"It'll be okay," Liam reassures me.

I'm not sure it will, but I take a deep breath and look up at the interviewer—Guilia—and say with more certainty that I feel. "I know."

"I'm so glad you could join us, Sorrel," she says, sounding like she means it. "Your pack made it seem like they didn't think it would be possible."

I nod. "I've had a difficult few days. I was pretty out of it. Asleep." I clarify so it doesn't sound like I was high or something.

The woman eyes me with a small smile on her face, but it doesn't seem mean or calculating. She looks like she's really truly happy for us, for me. "I take it you saw the first part of the interview?" she asks me, brown eyes sparking.

I nod, fingers twisting together, hoping like hell no one can see how much I hate this, hate being in the spotlight. "I did."

She shifts, leaning forward. "And what did you think about what these men had to say?"

I lick my lips as Liam lifts my hand to his mouth again so he can place a soft kiss on my knuckles, before he lingers there, lips running back and forth over the skin. "It was… a surprise," I say honestly. "The last we spoke, they still thought I was some kind of manipulative monster."

"But you aren't."

"No, she fu-" Gage catches himself just in time. "No, she isn't. She doesn't have a manipulative bone in her body."

I shake my head. "I won't lie and say I didn't have a crush on Liam before we met. I mean, I am straight and I have eyes. I've-" I look over at the omega next to me. "I've been a fan since I was a prepubescent teen, but I would never, and I mean never , try to lie or manipulate him or anyone into loving me, into wanting me. That wouldn't be real. And I want something real."

"The reality is," Liam says, still clutching my hand and beaming at the interviewer with his sweetheart smile. "We're the ones who messed up with her, just like we said before. Sorrel has been nothing but loving and genuine with us."

"She's perfect," Rafe growls out from under me, the words vibrating through my body.

"I'm sure you know we've had some negative experiences in the past," Gray says, hand clamped over my ankle, thumb smoothing back and forth as the interviewer nods her understanding. "Unfortunately, those negative experiences colored our perception and every relationship we've ever had. And I… Well, I lashed out and didn't give her the chance to explain. I didn't look at the other possibilities."

"One of those possibilities being Liam's assistant and the production company he's under contract with creating a false conversation."

" Wait ," I break in. Everyone looks at me with concern and I clear my throat, and try again, keeping my voice level. "That's what happened? It was them?"

Gray's hand tightens on my ankle while Liam lifts my hand to press a kiss to my palm, and Rafe squeezes me against his chest a little harder. "That's what happened, lovely," Liam murmurs against my skin.

"Joey Klipner has been let go," Rafe says, his voice hard. "And we've broken the contract with WJL Productions."

I blink, my stomach tightening with worry and disbelief. "Wait, does that mean we won't get any more Huntington Force movies?" There's no hiding the sadness in my tone at the possibility.

Guilia smiles at me. "I take it you're a fan of the franchise?"

I nod. "Oh, yeah. I mean, it's kind of impossible not to be. Liam is just so perfect for the role of Force, all sexy and suave and sweet. The perfect combination."

Rafe kisses my neck as Liam shifts in his seat so he's completely facing me, brows arched. "Are you saying you want me to stay with the company just to make more spy movies?"

I wrinkle my nose and squint at him with one eye. "Maybe just… see what they're willing to give you for not breaking the contract." He looks like he can't believe I would even suggest such a thing. I sigh and shake my head. "The last thing I want is for you to blow up your career and disappoint your fans for me, Liam. Everyone loves those movies. And we still don't know who killed Elsbeth. We need to know."

Liam's eyes go soft as he leans forward and kisses me, a sweet kiss. One that makes me melt in the best way.

"I think you just made millions of fans very happy with that request, Sorrel," Guilia says, watching us with a smile on her face. "Now, I want to talk about something else if you don't mind a change of subject."

Knowing what's coming, I swallow and Gage tightens his grip on my thigh, reassuring me. "Sure."

"Apex," she simply says, leaning back in her chair like she's just dropped a bomb in the center of the room.

And from the reaction of the men around me, she might as well have. They all growl and shift and bristle. As though the very name of the pharmaceutical company is enough to send their instincts on high alert.

As for me, that familiar serene smile curls my lips as I try not to remember how terrified I was twenty-four hours ago.

"What about them?" I ask, playing dumb because I don't particularly want to rehash this.

Guilia risks leaning forward again. "They've accused you, Sylvie Werth and Sadie Falcone of sabotage. Of terrorism."

I nod. "Yes. They have. However, that couldn't be farther from the truth. I-" I glance over at the producer with the clipboard who is glaring at me, like he knows what I'm going to say. "I can't give specifics, as the investigation is ongoing. I don't want to say anything that might impede justice. Not only that, but it's not really my story to tell. I'm, more or less, simply a bystander caught in the crossfire."

Guilia leans even farther forward. "We're aware of the experiments they did on Sadie and Sylvie. A disturbing amount of evidence was recently leaked about the tests they've been running in response to ‘the Omega Problem'."

Liam snorts. "You mean the problem that doesn't really exist? The one they've created in their minds in order to make more money?"

He's not wrong, but I ignore him in favor of asking, "who released the information?"

"We did," Gage says, quietly.

I turn wide eyes to him and he slides his hand off my thigh up to cup my face. "You did?"

He nods while Liam kisses my palm, and Rafe nuzzles into my neck. "We did, sweet thing," Gray confirms.

"It's why we weren't there, conejita ," Rafe murmurs. He doesn't have to elaborate. I know what he means. It's why I was alone when we made it out of that facility. It's why I spent god knows how long huddled against that tree crying. It's why I realized I would never, ever have a true pack.

My fake smile wavers. Tears fill my eyes. And I want to scream at them and hug them and slap them and kiss them all at the same time, but there are cameras on us, on me, and everyone already thinks I'm a fucking psycho and the last thing I need is to solidify that fact with actual video evidence of me losing my shit on them.

But fuck them for telling me this now .

Fuck them for declaring to the world that they want me before declaring it to me.

Fuck them.

Fuck them.

Fuck them.

I disentangle myself from Liam, brush Gray and Gage's hands off me, and then curl my fingers around Rafe's wrists, grappling with him to unwind his arms from me.

"You know what?" I say, smile wavering, but still in place. "I think I've overdone it. Too much excitement on the heels of… well, a harrowing experience. I'm going to go lay down." I wince when I realize I've just said that to the entire country. They don't need to know that. God, I'll probably get messages about how I'm too weak to be a member of the Cordova pack.

" Sorrel ," Gage says through clenched teeth.

" Gage ," I reply, still wrestling with Rafe, who doesn't seem to want to let me go.

"Please, sweet thing," Gray says. "Stay."

I shake my head at him; the smile falling entirely from my face as my lower lip trembles. I bite it hard to keep from crying and the four of them look horrified. "I'm going," I say firmly to them before turning to smile at the host. "It was lovely to meet you, Guilia."

I pick my way across the room, avoiding cables and ignoring the glare of the producer as the pack behind me also stands from their chairs. Behind me, Liam murmurs an apology to Guilia and I wince. I'd thought they would stay and finish, but apparently they have no qualms about cutting the interview short in order to follow me.

I yank the door open and stumble to the side when I'm greeted again by a broad back, pushing past him to hurry down the hall.

Their footsteps pound after me. "Lovely, wait, please."

I don't. I keep going, flashing my middle finger over my shoulder at them. When I reach the door of the room, I pause, considering just keeping going, continuing to the elevator and down the stairs, disappearing into the city. Which really just means hiding at Sylvie or Sadie's house.

A hand curls around my elbow, stopping me from living out that fantasy. "No," Gage says, voice hard. "No, biscuit, you aren't going anywhere."

I scowl and yank my arm away from him, wincing when it hurts, because everything hurts. "Fine," I spit, throwing the door to the room open, fully intending to slam it in their faces.