27. REID

Chapter twenty-seven

REID

Ethan rushes over, swallowing me in a tight hug as I kiss him, tasting him for what feels like the last time. I know it won’t be but goddess, luck is not my best friend. It never has been. The knocking becomes louder, Zana opening the door to a less-than-amused officer. He’s the same one from last time, more irritated than usual as he just clicks his tongue at me.

I have to tear myself away from my beautiful Omega, his eyes filled with tears as I head out the door. Saying goodbye feels like it would be done in bad taste so I leave the words hanging in the air. The officer follows, grumbling under his breath as he unlocks the passenger door.

“I didn’t go to the academy for this shit,” he mutters, slamming the door once I’m inside. “Getting bossed around by rich Alphas like I’m their fucking errand boy. God, I hate this gig.”

I stare straight ahead, my hands clenched in my lap, but he glances over at me, his brows furrowed. “No snark today?” he asks, his tone lighter now, almost teasing.

I shrug. “What’s the point? Not like it’ll change anything.”

He lets out a short laugh, shaking his head. “Fair enough.”

The car rumbles to life and as we pull away from the house, I risk one last glance over my shoulder. Zana and Ethan are standing in the doorway, their silhouettes framed by the warm light spilling out from inside. They don’t wave. They just watch, their expressions a mix of hope and despair.

I turn back around, swallowing the lump in my throat as Zana's fierce emotions ripple through the bond. This isn’t the end, I tell myself. I won’t let it be.

I keep my gaze fixed out the window, watching the landscape blur into nothingness, my chest tightening with every mile closer to the Wilhelms. The officer—his name tag says “Hollis,” though I’m pretty sure he’d rather I just call him “done with your shit”—glances at me from the corner of his eye. He hasn’t said much since we left Zana’s house, just muttered about being tired of this gig and dealing with “rich Alphas and their tantrums.” I’ve been biting back snark since we started the drive, but it’s not easy. The knot of dread in my stomach isn’t helping.

The bite on my bottom lip is really not helping because Zana’s emotions are barreling through.

Finally, I can’t take the silence anymore. “Hey,” I say, not looking at him. My voice is sharper than I mean it to be, but I don’t care. “You ever hear of anyone getting out of this? Being a pack Beta, I mean.”

Hollis doesn’t answer right away, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. “Depends,” he says eventually, his tone carefully neutral. “If the contract’s not official, sure. Happens sometimes. Technicalities, missing signatures, that sort of thing.”

My chest tightens, and I glance over at him. “And if it is official?”

He snorts, shaking his head. “Then it gets tricky. Once it’s signed, it’s binding. You’d have to prove abuse, neglect, breach of contract—something serious. And even then, the pack’s lawyers usually find a way to keep things locked up tight.”

I mutter under my breath, just loud enough for him to catch, “I never signed it.”

The words slip out before I can stop them, and Hollis’s head whips toward me, his eyes narrowing. “What did you just say?”

I shrug, leaning back against the seat like I didn’t just drop a bomb of information that not even Zana knows. “You heard me.”

He curses under his breath, his fingers drumming against the steering wheel. “Jesus Christ, kid. You don’t go around saying shit like that. You think the Wilhelms wouldn’t bury you alive if they caught wind of that?”

“They’ve already done a pretty good job of burying me alive,” I snap, turning to face him fully now. “What’s the difference?”

“The difference,” he growls, “is that if anyone finds out, it’s not just you in the crosshairs. Whoever signed that contract for you? They’re screwed. The Wilhelms? They’ll play the victim, sure, but they’ll still go down. Hell, even I’d probably get roped into this mess for being the one driving your sorry ass back to them.”

I snort, shaking my head. “Sounds like a ‘them’ problem. Maybe they should’ve thought about that before roping me into a fake contract.”

Hollis glares at me for a long moment before focusing back on the road. “You don’t get it, do you? You blow this up and it’s not just a problem for them. It’s a problem for anyone connected to it. You’re talking about a domino effect that could take out half the damn system.”

I bark out a laugh, though there’s no humor in it. “Good. Maybe the system deserves it.”

He doesn’t respond to that, his jaw tightening as the silence stretches between us again. I know I’ve hit a nerve, but I don’t care. I’ve been biting my tongue for months, letting the Wilhelms walk all over me, letting everyone else decide my life for me. If there’s a chance to rip this whole thing apart, why shouldn’t I take it?

However, the sinking feeling that it could blow up in Zana and Ethan’s faces is why I stay quiet. If I can legally get out of the contract, it won’t matter anyway.

The rest of the drive is quiet, the tension so thick it feels like it’s pressing down on my chest. Hollis doesn’t say another word and I don’t feel like starting another fight. My mind spins with possibilities, with what-ifs and maybes, but every scenario ends with the same thought—I’m still walking back into that house. Still walking back into hell. I just hope that I’m strong enough to walk back out of it.

As the Wilhelm estate comes into view, the dread in my stomach twists tighter. “You’ve only got a few more days until that investigation is buried under paperwork and whatever else,” Hollis says finally. “They’ll play nice, for now. Don’t give them a reason not to.”

“Thanks for the pep talk,” I mutter, shoving the door open and stepping out into the cold.

“Hey, Reid,” he calls after me, his voice softer now. “Be careful.”

I nod, not trusting myself to speak, and turn toward the house. The doors swing open before I reach them, Jackson’s towering figure filling the doorway, his smirk sharp enough to cut.

“Welcome home,” he says, his voice dripping with fake warmth.

I clench my jaw and step inside. A few days. That’s all I have. To survive, to figure out a way to tear this whole thing apart.

To find a way back to them. To my real home.

Little do the Wilhelms know I’m not fucking staying.

“Miss me?” I ask, my voice dripping with fake cheer. “Bet you’ve been lost without me.” It dawns on me that I haven’t washed one shred of laundry in the past few days. Other than washing a few dishes, none of the chores fell at my feet with Zana and Ethan. It was a group effort. Nothing was ever forced on me.

Jackson’s smirk falters for half a second before he recovers, his eyes narrowing. “Nice to see you haven’t lost your attitude from a few days ago,” he says, his tone cold.

“Oh, it’s thriving,” I shoot back, my smile razor-sharp. “Thanks for your concern.”

Before either of them can respond, Hailey rushes in from the other room, her blonde curls bouncing as she makes a beeline for me. She’s already crying—or pretending to, anyway—and her hands reach out like she’s some tragic heroine in a soap opera.

“Reid!” she gasps, throwing herself at me. “You’re back. I’ve been so worried about you.”

It takes everything in me not to laugh. Her scent is sharp, laced with irritation and barely masked disgust, but she’s trying to smother it with sweetness. It doesn’t work. I can smell the lie from a mile away and the way her eyes flicker toward Jackson and Lyle before settling on me only confirms it. She’s putting on a show. The way her nose turns up at Ethan’s scent lacing my skin also cements my thoughts.

“Hailey,” I muse as I awkwardly pat her on the back. “So... good to see you too.”

She pulls back, her hands clutching my arms as she stares up at me with wide, watery eyes. “I’ve missed you so much,” she says, her voice trembling. “I—I didn’t realize how much you meant to me until you were gone.”

I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. Her act is almost convincing—if you didn’t know her. But I do. I’ve spent months cleaning up her messes, taking her insults, and watching her twist people around her little finger. She’s good at playing the victim, but she’s slipping now. Her nose wrinkles ever so slightly, catching Ethan’s scent again. It’s driving her insane and I love it.

“That’s... touching,” I say, forcing a tight smile. “Really. I’m moved.”

Her grip on my arms tightens and she glances back at Jackson and Lyle. “Can we have a moment?” she asks, her voice soft and pleading.

Jackson raises an eyebrow but nods, gesturing for Lyle to follow him out of the room. The moment they’re gone, Hailey drops the act. Her face hardens and she pulls me toward the couch, pushing me down before sitting beside me, far too close.

“You’re going to make this easy for me, aren’t you, Reid?” she cackles, the sweetness gone. “You’re going to be good and loyal, just like you always have been.”

I blink at her, my lips twitching with barely contained amusement. “Is that what you want? Loyalty? Funny, because I don’t remember that being part of the job description. I thought I was just here to clean up after you.”

Her eyes narrow and she leans in closer, her grin sharp and predatory. “If you don’t start showing some loyalty—and affection—I’ll make sure you don’t leave this pack in one piece.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “What’s the point, Hailey? You’ve made it perfectly clear you don’t care about anyone but yourself. Why bother pretending now?”

Her grin falters, just for a second and then she straightens, brushing imaginary dust off her designer jeans. “Because I don’t like my things being taken away from me,” she says, her voice cold.

“Maybe you should’ve taken better care of your things,” I snap, standing abruptly. Pain shoots through my side, but I ignore it. “You want tea? Get it yourself.”

Her jaw drops, her eyes wide with shock, and for a moment, I think she might actually lunge at me. But nothing happens. She just sits there, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, as I turn and walk toward the stairs.

Zana was right. They won’t touch me. Not during the investigation. I’m safe—for now. I also won't bother staying to figure out how long that safety net lasts.