58. Resa

Chapter 58

Resa

H ome is still not feeling like home, and I'm no closer to figuring out why that is.

It's on my third morning walk to the nearby park with a small bag of seeds when a sudden gust of wind blows a familiar cedar and leather scent my way.

"I know you're there." I take a seat on my usual park bench as a ball of nervous excitement bubbles up in my belly.

For two long seconds, nothing happens. Then Garrison takes the seat beside me, head forward, profile strong, as he watches the swans and ducks gliding across the pond.

I study him out of the corner of my eye.

In his smart gray shirt with black pants, short dark hair brushed back from his face, and no hint of stubble, he looks the same. Nothing has changed. So then why is it requiring brute force to take my eyes off him?

I throw seeds into the water the way I used to with my mom years ago. "How long have you been following me?"

"From the start," he says in the quiet, serious way I've missed so much more than I thought I would.

"Why?"

"You're ours. That means keeping you safe takes priority."

I disappoint the swans eagerly peering my way by turning to face Garrison. "Surely the safe thing would be for me to stay inside so you don't have to follow me around."

Only now does he look at me. Serious. Always so serious.

"You are free to live the life you want to live, Resa. We will protect you."

I study the swans. But I'm not paying the swans as much attention as the man sharing this bench with me. "I got your letter about the heat suite."

"I wish I'd thought of it before you needed it. We all do," he says.

I throw more seeds into the pond. "It would make more sense for me to stay with you, then I wouldn't be taking up a heat suite another omega would need. I would have alphas to help me through my heat."

The bench creaks slightly as he sits back. "It would make perfect sense if that was something you wanted."

"So it's not what you want?" They let me go. Let me return to my parents without a word. No one tried to stop me or convince me to stay, and now I can't help but wonder—or maybe I've been wondering all this time—that maybe they don't want me at all.

"This has never been about what I want. Blaine and Vaughn feel the same way. We promised we would return you back to your life."

I swing to face him, suddenly angry. "But I didn't think you actually meant it."

I was glad about it before. Now I don't think I'm glad about it at all.

And that's the thing. I don't know how to love alphas. I only know how to hate them.

"Did you want me to mean it?" he asks quietly.

"I don't know." I lick my dry lips. "Did you mean what you said in the letter about one year or ten?"

He shakes his head and my heart plummets. "However long you need, Resa. We will wait for you."

A swan honks and I toss seeds at the one staring at me as if demanding to know why I stopped.

Garrison stands up.

"I have some seeds left," I blurt out, desperate to stop him from leaving.

He halts but doesn't turn to face me.

"I expect a professional like you to have such good aim you'll knock a bird unconscious. If you promise not to, you can help feed them."

Garrison sits, and I offer him the bag.

He takes a small handful of seeds and we feed the swans together.

It's so peaceful and perfect, I draw it out far longer than I have before, dreading the inevitable moment I'll reach into the bag and there are no more seeds left.

"Shouldn't you be keeping watch?" I roll the empty bag into a tight ball and stick it in my pocket to reuse for my next walk.

"You're safe."

"How can you…" Then it hits me. He said we. We will protect you. Not me. Blaine doesn't like public places, so he's probably back at headquarters. "Where is he?"

Garrison nods to my left. "Tree."

I look.

Vaughn is barely visible on top of a tree. He risks plunging into the pond beneath him when he waves a pair of binoculars and blows me a kiss.

Hiding a smile, I look away. "He's going to fall out of that tree."

"He did the first time you came for a walk here. I don't know how you missed the splash he made falling in the water." Garrison sighs tiredly. "Dragging him out was a task, and he did not make it easy."

I nearly laugh because I heard the epic splash. When I turned around, no one was flailing in the water. He must have been waiting for me to look away before resurfacing. "How is Blaine?"

"Ask him yourself," he says.

"And how would I do that?"

Garrison's gaze flicks to my right. A man wearing sunglasses, a black turtleneck, and suit jacket is leaning against a tree at the park's entrance.

Blaine.

He lifts his hand.

I nearly fail at hiding my delight. "Don't you have jobs to do?"

"We're doing it. Protecting you."

We sit quietly for several more seconds, and then I stand. "I should probably get back."

"Okay, Resa."

I turn to walk away, and I'm not sure what compels me to stop. "You can walk with me if you want."

"I want. If I walk beside the water, will you be tempted to push me in?" he asks, appearing at my side.

I look at him, then at the pond. "Tempted, yes."

A month ago, I wouldn't have hesitated to push him in. He's an alpha, and I'd do it happily, all the while wishing it was a pool of lava.

But now?

"No. I won't push you in."

He nods once and holds his arm out, gesturing me to lead the way.

Even though I know the quickest route to get back to my house, for some inexplicable reason, I take the long way back.

It is nowhere near as long as I want it to be.

He walks me right to my front door, as if this were a date. Any second now, he's going to tell me he has to go and I still haven't told him that I miss him. I miss them all. That my life is not the same without them in it.

"Thanks for walking me back."

He smiles faintly at me and walks away.

I mentally chew myself out as I unlock the front door, close it, and lean my back on it. "You jumped out of a freaking window. Why can't you just tell him how you feel?"

A knock sounds at the front door, and I drop a box, cursing when something shatters.

Mom and Dad are at work, and I'm digging through more of my boxes in Dad's study. I'm home alone, but I'm not defenseless. And the dark gray sedan is still outside my house.

I make a brief detour to the kitchen to grab a steak knife on my way to the front door.

I put my eye to the peephole.

A man is standing on the front porch with his back to me.

I tighten my grip on my knife and open the door. "Hello?"

The man turns around.

I spent days searching for pictures of Dexter Pieter. I dug up a few side profile shots a reporter snapped when he became the youngest head of the Council.

This man in black pants and a gray button-down shirt that nearly matches his eyes appeals to me the way a poisonous snake would, and his scent makes me think of freezing rain. He would be handsome if those ice-gray eyes didn't scare the shit out of me. Like he could kill you and then just go about with his day.

But he's an alpha, and I don't show weakness to alphas, so I tighten my grip on my knife. "Dexter Pieter?"

"I heard you wanted to speak with me." His voice is cool, without a hint of emotion.

"How did you find me?"

"It wasn't difficult."

Terrifying words to go along with those terrifying eyes.

So what the hell are you doing standing with the front door wide open?

I prepare to slam the door in his face.

"I have Vaughn Potter aiming a rifle at the back of my head." His voice is, if not warmer, then a touch less frigid than it was a second before. "I imagine Blaine Webb is doing likewise. Garrison Brewster, on the other hand, is sitting in the car outside watching through a pair of binoculars."

"And the reason you're telling me all that?" I need to do better at hiding my expression because I have a feeling I just gave myself away.

"I knew where to find you because I spoke with them and made my intentions clear. I am not here to harm you, Miss Mora, but to speak to you, if I may."

My gaze darts to the dark gray Audi parked outside my house. The driver's side window slides down and, as Dexter Pieter predicted, Garrison is sitting in the front seat. So they told Dexter where to find me, but they're all here to make sure I survive this conversation.

I shift my focus back to the man waiting for permission to enter my house. "What do you want to talk about?"

He doesn't smile. Then again, he doesn't seem like the smiling kind. "Change."

I take a step back, holding the door open. "Come inside."

We sit at the dining table, facing each other. I'd offer him a drink, the way my mom would, but I'd rather not turn my back on him.

"I'm not a man who likes change," he says simply.

I tighten my hold on the knife I've rested on my lap. "Sometimes change happens whether you like it or not."

"You have caused me an untold number of issues, Miss Mora." He looks at me for several seconds. "I don't like you."

Is this man for real?

"I'm not asking you to like me, Mr. Pieter. I am asking you to do your job ."

For a painfully long second, I can't believe I just insulted him to his face.

I survived the tree, O'Brien, and so many other things I never thought I would. But this, this stupid thing will be what kills me.

Wood squeaks as he sits back in his seat, still staring at me through those emotionless gray eyes. "What makes you think I'm not doing my job?"

"Predatory alphas are finally paying for the crimes they've gotten away with for years, but there are omegas who still need help. The Omega Institute is less than useless, and they answer to you. That is how I know you're not doing your job."

The right corner of his mouth lifts a quarter of an inch. I'd call it a smile, but like I said, I'm not sure this man knows what a smile is.

"You sound high-maintenance, Miss Mora."

I think of how simple my life was and how little I needed to make me happy. "You're wrong. I'm not high maintenance. I just want—no, I need —for my child to have more options than I did, and not just my child. Omegas in the city."

When he reaches into his front pocket, I prepare to defend myself.

He pulls a white card from the pocket, places it on Mom's reddish-brown cherry wood dining table, and pushes it toward me.

He rises to his feet in one smooth motion and walks away. "My number. Only I answer that phone."

"I don't understand," I call after him.

He stops, his back to me. "When you rip things out of the ground, it's important to know you are not destroying something that needs to stay."

"What are you ripping out of the ground?"

"Perhaps everything."

That makes total sense. Not.

I glance at the white card he left behind. "And your number?"

"I will be busy for the next several days. I would rather not be distracted from my task by more videos with over fifty million views. Call me if there is something you need me to know."

Fifty…

Holy fuck.

He walks out as I'm processing the fact fifty million people have watched my court speech.

The front door clicks shut as I pick up the white card with a shaking hand.

It looks homemade. There's not even a logo or a name. Just a cell phone number.

After checking to make sure Dexter Pieter definitely left and isn't upstairs hiding under my bed—yes, I know I'm being paranoid—I put the card in my room and return to digging through boxes in Dad's study.

When a key slides in the lock, I'm no closer to unpacking anything. After my conversation with Garrison at the park, I think I know why that is.

"Theresa?" Dad flicks the light on, startling me. "You're sitting in the dark. What's wrong?"

"It isn't the puzzle that's the problem. It's the piece," I say.

Mom and Dad look at me like I've lost my mind.

"I wanted to come back to this life, but it doesn't feel like mine anymore," I explain. "Does that make sense?"

Mom offers me her hand, and I rise from my cross-legged position on the floor. "It makes perfect sense, darling. You're not the same person as you were, so what you want—and what you need—has changed."

"If I were to tell you that I'm not happy here. What would you say?"

She kisses my forehead. "I would say to find the thing that makes you happiest. Your father and I will always support that."

It's nearly dark outside and I should have drawn the curtains hours ago. Through the window, I spot the same gray Audi parked outside. "I keep expecting them to prove they're just like typical alphas who make what they want more important than what I want."

"You mean the security guys you've spent the last few days dragging yourself around the house trying not to think about?" Dad asks.

My eyes snap to him and I blush. "Dad?"

"You think I can't tell these things?" He drops a kiss on the top of my head. "They found us, had us wait in a safe place in the courthouse until we could speak, and the moment the cops stopped watching the house, they took over. I'm not an intelligent man, but I'm not a blind one. You care about them and they care about you."

"But I just came back. Don't you want me to stay?"

"We will always want you to stay, sweetheart." He draws me into a hug. "Choose the thing that makes you happy, Theresa. And visit. That will make us happy."