Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

H ell exists, and it’s currently nestled in the quaint town of New Haven inside of my family’s home.

My dad, Henderson, looks like he wants to smoke a cigarette. My mom, Willow, looks like she wants to cry. My other mother, Rosemary, looks ready to kill someone. Then my big former hockey player father looks like he wants to crawl in a hole and die.

“Willow is still in her forties. She could easily have another child,” my Mormor says, and I watch as my mother Rosemary grips her fork hard enough to bend the damn thing.

“Sloane’s birth was incredibly hard on Willow, so we decided to not have any more children,” she replies.

“You certainly could have bore children if you weren’t so busy with your career,” Mormor replies.

Both of my dads blow out air at the same time.

My mother licks her lips, grabbing a glass of wine and taking a deep, heavy swig, and mumbles something under her breath.

“Something to say?” Mormor asks, and my mother goes to open her mouth.

“Oh, that’s right. Dessert. Rosemary, sweetheart, can you come help me?” my mom intervenes, saving us all from another battle of wills.

“Of course,” she replies, taking a deep breath and following her Omega into the kitchen.

My Mormor wipes her mouth. She’s a wasp of an old woman, frail almost as her hand clutches her water and she takes a sip. As ancient as she may seem, there’s a spry nature to her clear blue eyes. She knows that she gets under people’s skin, and she thoroughly enjoys it.

“Tell me more about this matchmaker. I assume they are connecting you with Alphas who are well established and financially competent.” she says.

“Yes, well, her services are not cheap for Alphas. Being an Omega client is free.”

“Yes, well, Omegas get their fair share handed to them, don’t they?”

Great, now I fear my inherited temper is rising.

“Please, Mormor, tell me what’s been handed to me?”

“Don’t act stupid, it’s unbecoming. Omegas are revered and treated like spun glass. While I believe a woman’s place is in the home, Omegas take it too far. I had hoped you’d be a Beta,” she says.

“Mother, that’s enough,” my dad steps in. I can tell he’s about done too. She hasn’t even been here for two days.

“What, am I not allowed to have an opinion?” she responds.

“There’s an opinion, and there’s being hurtful. You’re being callous for no reason,” he replies.

“I’m sorry I’m such a horrible mother and Mormor. It must be so difficult.”

“Jesus fuck. I’m going to go help with dessert,” my Beta father says, excusing himself, leaving me with my dad and this mean old bitch at the table by ourselves.

My dad rubs his temples, trying to keep his cool and keep the peace. She visits once a year, if that, so we always try to make it work. But I almost wonder if it would be better if we severed ties completely.

“I shouldn’t have come, it seems,” she says, laying the narcissistic, passive aggressive bullshit even thicker.

“You know what, Mom? Maybe you shouldn’t have,” my dad says. My mouth gapes open as he pushes back from his chair and heads to the kitchen.

She dabs her mouth, her lips pinched. Her face looks harsh when she makes that face, and I wonder what exactly happened to her to make her like this.

“Hopefully you don’t treat your parents this poorly when they’re my age,” she says, and I let out a sigh. “Well, dear, by all means, if you have something to say, you may as well speak your mind.”

“Every time you come here, you cause a rift. You’re mean for no reason and constantly pick at everyone’s flaws. It’s hard to have you here.”

She smiles, and it almost feels wicked as she taps her water glass.

“Great, now that we’re being honest. You should be ashamed that you’re still living here, poaching off the generosity of your parents. You should have long had a pack and be well on your way to starting your own family instead of impeding on the life of your parents. Kristoff has spoiled you and made you too soft. You’re embarrassing the Applegate name.”

My breath hitches, and my eyes sting as I soak in her words.

As much as I try to be strong and confident, deep down in my soul, I’m a sensitive bitch who can’t handle criticism.

I can feel the tears hitting the back of my eyes, and I just can’t give her the satisfaction. Instead, I pull back my chair and storm out of the dining room to the backyard and head to my apartment.

She could have said something, but I don't hear it as I leave. I’m not sure why I let her get to me; I know my parents love having me here and would never push me out of the nest. But there’s still some insecurity there, too, that I’ve held off on truly starting a pack till now, that I’m not where I should be in life.

I swipe at my warm cheeks as my phone buzzes in my pocket.

Bram

I know it’s late, but I am craving ice cream. Would you be interested?

I’d love to. I’ll meet you two blocks over.

Bram

I’ll be there in five.

You live fifteen minutes away.

Bram

I was kind of counting on you saying yes.

I smile and wipe more of my tears away and grab a jacket from my apartment before heading down our driveway and making the walk down the neighborhood.

I wrap my arms around myself, fresh emotion hitting me now and then. I refuse to let her words get to me, for her to make me feel like shit. She hates everyone, her own son, her own granddaughter.

Someone so miserable shouldn’t be the one to tell me how I live my life.

The sun has long set, and the cold air permeates around me as I wait for Bram to get here. Truly, it’s not a great night for ice cream, but I needed to get out of that situation, and it’s almost like Bram could tell I needed him.

I smile at that as his white SUV parks in front of me.

I open the door and slide into the passenger’s seat, and as soon as I do, Bram is grabbing my face with his massive hand.

“What’s wrong?” he says, and I shake my head. “Sloane,” he says in a deep tone, not an Alpha voice, but still deep enough to do something for me.

“My grandma is in town, and she’s mean as hell. She said some things at dinner that upset me.”

“She made you cry?” he asks, his fingers lightly digging into the soft flesh of my jaw.

I don’t know why, but him asking about it brings even more fresh tears. Bram curses under his breath, removing his hand from my face, which only makes things worse.

But then I realize the only reason he stopped touching me was to move his seat back as far as it can go.

“Come here,” he says, and I don’t know why, but I don’t hesitate as I climb over the center console and fall right into his arms, which he firmly wraps around me.

His hand nearly spans my back as he moves it up and down. I’m not sobbing, but I’m also trying to keep my shit together.

My ear is pressed against Bram’s heart as I grip his shirt like a lifeline. A rumble starts in his chest as he begins purring.

Interesting, so he uses it as a soothing technique and when he’s turned on. Either way, I like it. No, I more than like it. The deep rumble and his thick, earthy scent wrap around me.

I feel safe.

My body relaxes, my eyes aren’t burning anymore, but I soak up all his Alpha goodness. I’m not about to turn down this epic cuddle. He’s so big, warm, and cozy.

“Better?” he asks.

I rub my face against his chest, absently scent marking him.

“Yeah, it’s better.”

He clears his throat and stills for a moment; I realize then I may have been inadvertently grinding on him, and the cab of the car smells more like peaches than masculine citrus.

I pull up to where I’m sitting in his lap, the steering wheel pressed against my ass. His hands are on my waist, and I like that he doesn't pull back.

“I didn’t mean to cry all over your shirt,” I say, looking at the small tear stain.

The purr of his chest has slowed, almost nearly nonexistent now, and I kinda want it to come back.

His one hand comes up, and the pads of his fingers wipe away my tears.

“You can come and stay at my place if your grandmother is a problem,” he says.

I smile, a typical man trying to solve shit and not talk about it.

“I have my own apartment over the garage. Not that I wouldn’t mind staying over at your place sometime.”

“Other than your grandma, you’ve been okay?” he asks, and I nod my head.

“Been busy getting things together for an event. Helping some guys with their social media presence.”

“Who?” he asks.

“Ethan and Connery.”

He scoffs at Connery’s name; I don’t miss that for a second.

“Who the fuck is Ethan?” he asks.

“Oh my God, you’re just as bad as my dad. Ethan is Finnegan the Fox. The mascot,” I reiterate.

“Why the mascot?” he questions.

“I’m going to make him an internet sensation,” I reply with a smile.

He squeezes my hips, pushing me down on his lap. This certainly isn’t the same Alpha who said he wanted to take things slow, but I’m definitely not mad at it. My Mormor’s words ring in my ears, and I wonder if I even have time to take things slow.

Maybe it’s because I’m hot boxing his car or that I’m pressed against his dick, but I’m definitely not complaining about the way he’s looking at me right now. Bram always has an intensity about him, but it’s different from the man I’ve witnessed on the ice many times.

“I don’t like Connery,” he says, still looking at me intensely and holding me close.

“Why not?” I ask, and he shrugs his shoulders like I should know the answer. “He’s my friend.”

“Just your friend?” he asks, his body tensing in a not fun way beneath me.

“Yes,” I reply, not lying. Max is only my friend, but I do find him handsome and charming. But if Bram really doesn’t like him, he will need to stay a friend.

His grip loosens, and I don’t like that one bit.

I drag my nails over his beard, glancing down at the soft lips I haven’t stopped thinking about for days.

“There’s only one Alpha’s lap that I’m sitting on right now. Only one who wiped away my tears and who sent me my favorite flowers,” I say.

He licks his lips, and his brown gaze meets mine.

“I’m glad you liked them.”

“Do you know what I’d like even more?” I ask.

“What’s that?”

He shifts me on his lap, and I’m not sure how I’m supposed to act like a decent woman when he’s so hard and muscular underneath of me.

“If we could speed things up, just a little.”

“What does speeding things up look like for you, Sloane?” he asks, his scent nearly causing me to malfunction.

“Touch me,” I whisper.

“I am touching you.”

I grab his hand off of my hip and place it above my pussy. The back of his head falls back against his headrest, and he lets out an agonized groan. But thankfully for my ego and my wanton body, he doesn’t pull his hand away.

“You were just crying,” he argues. Still not moving his hand, though.

“I’m not anymore. But if we don’t get a little more skin on skin action, I just might cry all over again,” I reply as a joke, but I might be serious.

It’s been so long since I’ve had someone touch me intimately. Not only do I miss it, I want it from Bram. Our constant flirting has felt like the longest edging of my life.

“Please, Bram.”

His eyes search mine, and something in my face must break him down because he slides his hand into my yoga pants, shifting them down my hips. Bram looks down at my panty-covered pussy before toying with the edges.

I can’t take it anymore and grab his chin, leaning over for a kiss. His lips meet mine in an almost growl as he kisses me back, his fingers sliding over my wet clit and entrance.

His other hand fists my hair, controlling the kiss.

I feel consumed by his scent and his presence, not even caring that we’re two blocks from my house or parked on the side of the street right now. I need this.

I need to feel alive.

I gasp when Bram pushes two fingers inside of me, our lips parting as I let the much-needed sensation roll through me.

“You're drenching my hand, Omega,” he says in a gruff, deep tone. His chest is rumbling with a purr.

God, I’ll never get enough of the fact that I do that to him.

“What are you going to do with it after?” I ask in quick pants.

The large Alpha smiles at me, his hand tightening in my hair.

“What would you like me to do? Lick it clean? Stroke my cock with it?” he asks, and I can tell he’s absolutely serious.

“I want the first time you taste me to be with your lips on my pussy,” I whisper, making him groan and shift my body harder against his cock.

“You’re such a tease with this sweet wet pussy and that dirty mouth, little Omega.”

“How am I a tease when your fingers are dee?—”

He cuts my words off, curling his fingers inside of me while his palm rubs my clit. The moan that rips through me ricochets throughout his car as I place a hand on the ceiling while I ride out my orgasm on his hand.

I can feel how wet his hand is, and it only makes me come harder.

“Fuck,” I hiss out. My body is shaking as my cunt grips his fingers, wishing it was a knot. God, I bet Bram has a thick knot that would stretch me so good.

He slows down his pace, his fingers leisurely rubbing against my walls, and I come down from my orgasm.

I lick my lips and meet his eyes before smiling and kissing him again. This time it’s slower, more sensual, as our lips explore.

Suddenly, my phone blares from the passenger seat, and I jolt on Bram’s lap as I lean over and dig out my phone from my purse. His hand slides out of my pants, and they’re still halfway down my thighs as I see my dad’s name and picture on the phone.

I sit back down on Bram’s lap, and he adjusts my panties and slides my pants back up, making for a very wet and uncomfortable moment for me.

“Hey, Dad.”

“Sloane, where did you go? We dropped Mormor off at the hotel,” he says.

“I just went for a walk,” I say, looking over at Bram who rolls his eyes.

“Honey, it’s dark. What do you mean you went for a walk? Where are you? I can come pick you up.”

“That’s okay, Dad. I’ll be home soon.”

“What did she say? I knew it must have been bad. Your mom lost it and told her she had to stay in a hotel until she apologizes.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I tell him, and he sighs.

“If you’re not home in twenty minutes, I’m going to come out looking for you.”

“I’ll be home soon.”

I hang up the phone, and Bram looks at me expectantly. “Coach?” he asks.

“Yeah, he’s just overprotective. I should be getting home,” I tell him, though there’s really no other place I’d rather be than here on Bram’s lap. I don’t get up to move, and he squeezes my hips.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, you did everything I needed to feel better,” I say, leaning down and kissing him softly again.

“We have our first string of away games next week,” he says against my lips.

“I know,” I reply.

“I’d like to talk on the phone or at least text every day to make sure you’re alright,” he says.

My Omega heart does a little flip in my chest as I lean forward and kiss him again. He’s turning out to be the exact Alpha I thought he was.

“Yeah, I can definitely do that.” I kiss him again, wishing I could spend all night with his lips pressed against mine. “Night, Bram.”

“Text me the minute you get home,” he tells me.

I nod and crawl back over to the passenger seat before getting out and heading home. I can sense a white SUV following me the entire walk back, but I do my best to ignore him and cherish the fact that he cares enough to watch me get home. As soon as I walk up the driveway, I send him a text.

Home safe. Thank you for tonight.

Bram

I’m here for whatever you need. Good night, Sloane.

I smile down at my phone. I left the house this evening in shambles, but I’m returning feeling refreshed and cared for. That’s exactly how your Alpha should make you feel.