Chapter Fourteen

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Now Playing: Higher- Sleep Token

These men are relentless.

Two days of intermittent sleep and ignoring their constant knocking, and it still feels like every time I open my eyes one of them is outside begging me to eat whatever food they’ve brought me.

Rolling over onto my back, I stare up at the white ceiling. I should probably get up and shower, maybe eat something, but I can’t convince myself to waste the energy it would take to move.

My eyes slip closed for a few seconds before another knock has them blinking back open. A sigh escapes my slightly parted lips as I listen for the plea of whichever of my former Fate matched mates waits on the other side. I’m surprised when Nebula’s muffled voice rings through the door. Even more shocking is the sound of his footsteps fading in the distance as he walks away.

He brought me food… then he left?

Curiosity gets the best of me. My feet feel like lead when they touch the cold hardwood floors, but I manage to drag myself across the room. Inching it open, I peek out into the hallway and exhale in relief when I find it empty. Nebula’s smoky vanilla and tobacco scent still lingers in the air. The smell of it has my chest aching with a longing so intense I have to lean harder against the door frame to stay upright.

Stupid fucking omega instincts trying to force me back to a pack that has proven they want nothing to do with me.

Another scent drifts to me. Something warm and sweet and maple-y. Glancing down I spy the tray of magic he’s left me alongside a rectangular box and a pack of… markers? I contemplate leaving it all here but my stomach rumbles loudly, reminding me I’ve gone too long without eating.

I wish I could say the French Toast tastes like ash and betrayal, but it doesn’t. It’s absolute heaven. Fluffy and light with the perfect dash of cinnamon.

My stomach aches as I stare down at the empty plate contemplating licking it clean of the remnants of maple syrup and powdered sugar. Setting it aside takes all of my willpower, which makes me giggle at myself. How did I go from someone whose biggest concern was her birth family finding her to fighting for survival every day?

I wince when my head thumps against the headboard, lost in the spiraling thoughts my memories of the past several months bring. Forcing myself to focus on something else, I pick up the box from the tray and carefully open it. The shiny black screen of a new phone shines up at me. A newer model than my old one, but the same brand.

They got me a phone?

Lifting it from the box, I see a note tucked in the bottom. ‘As an apology for endangering your life. It’s been secured by a team at the FCDA. -Lukas Dromir’

So it isn’t from the guys. Which makes me feel better. Accepting gifts from them feels like taking a bribe, and my forgiveness cannot be bought.

Powering the device on, I’m relieved to see all of my old information has been synced. The number of notifications spread across all of my apps is nearly overwhelming enough to make me shut it back off, but curiosity gets the best of me.

Opening the messaging app, I see missed texts from Bea, Shelby, Forrest, and… Nexus. Clicking Bea’s name, I scan through all of the pictures and daily updates she sent me during her tour. I’ve already heard most of these stories in person, but seeing the photos is new. The texts from her parents are mostly reminders they love me and hope I am safe.

The only unread thread now is from Nexus. I’m hesitant to open it, unsure I want to see what he has written. Maybe I’ll just open them to get rid of the notification…

Clicking his name, I move my thumb to close back out but am stopped short by a myriad of food pics. Scrolling back to the beginning–the first one he sent me after my identity was leaked and I was forced into hiding–I quickly grow captivated by the story they tell.

Different restaurants or cafes from each stop of their tour are accompanied by a short message telling me about the places he visited. And every single text holds a promise to take me back to those places to enjoy them together. Kimchi Carbonara from Las Vegas. Spicy burgers in Portland. Braised beef head burritos in Los Angeles.

The texts are numerous, continuing long after their tour had ended. They only seem to have stopped after we talked at the Candy Courage show last weekend.

If he was this invested in our future, why did he leave after helping me through my heat? Were these messages his way of assuaging his guilt over abandoning me?

My phone rings, startling me enough I nearly send the dirty dishes crashing to the floor. I manage to catch the tray and pull it back toward me. On the screen, I see my best friend’s smiling face.

“Hey,” I answer lightly, trying to imbue some false happiness into my voice so she won’t immediately worry about me.

“Yay, you got the phone! How’s life with your dumbasses? Have they started groveling yet?” My best friend asks. She must be on the balcony of Mr. Acherley’s apartment because the wind is blowing her curly hair across her cheeks.

“Kind of?” We haven’t talked since Donovan dropped her off, so I fill her in on the massive house and nest they bought for me. Her eyes are wide and gleeful as I describe it to her.

“Damnnnnn, Oms! Wait–” Her eyes narrow as she takes in the room around me. “That doesn’t look like an epic nest.”

“It isn’t. This is their guest room.”

“Um, why?”

“Because I’m not their omega so it isn’t my nest.”

“Omen,” Bea huffs. “Look, I know I tried to keep them away from you–because they’re a bunch of assholes who don’t deserve to have an omega as awesome as you–but I thought the whole point of you going to stay with them this week was for you to take advantage of being around them so you can get better?”

Sliding down the bed, I hug a pillow to my chest and use the tray to prop my phone up so she can still see me. “That was the plan, but then I got here, and now… I’m torn between being terrified they will reject me again–for real this time–and wanting nothing to do with them because they’ve already hurt me.”

“I– yeah. Those are both valid concerns. Obviously. I also know you well enough to guess you haven’t explained your fear to Pack Graves?” She gives me a knowing look, one that has my lips thinning. “Exactly. You shy away from conflict and won’t admit your own feelings to spare others. Something we both know is a side effect of how your birth parents treated you. But they aren’t here Oms. Your father is literally in prison, and your mother will be joining him as soon as they find her.”

She might be right but could it really be so simple?

“Stop hiding. Even if you don’t take them back, go out there and soak up their scents so you can get better. Then you can show them what they missed out on when you find your dream pack.”

“I’ll try,” I promise. I haven’t admitted I’m also afraid my instincts will take over and I’ll be bonded to them by the end of the week. That’s a bridge to cross when the time comes. “Enough about me, how is living with Mr. Acherley?”

Bea groans and buries her face in her hands. “It’s hell! He has so many rules and he still refuses to call me anything but fucking Sabine!”

“I’m guessing you two haven’t hate-fucked yet?” I laugh when she scowls at me through her fingers.

“There will be no sexy older boss/irresistible omega employee in forced proximity story playing out here!” If her eyes weren’t sparkling, I might believe her. “I have enough man-problems on my plate with the other two idiots. I don’t need a third.”

My smile slips a little when her eyes turn sad with longing. We’d all been hoping whatever was building between her, Ridley, and Lex would reach its peak when the two alphas were no longer our bodyguards. Unfortunately for my bestie, both men were assigned to the task force sent to track down Doctor Harrison.

“It will all work out, Bea,” I remind her. “He can’t evade them forever.”

“Why are men so fucking complicated?” She gripes. “If I didn’t love dick so much I’d join Candy Courage’s pack.”

“Have you gotten to see them around the office yet?” I ask, knowing she can talk about their band for hours.

With my stomach full and my best friend’s voice drifting through the room, I can’t fight the weight of my exhaustion and slip back into a dreamless sleep. Since I arrived at Pack Graves’ house two nights ago, my nightmares haven’t been as frequent. Something I am grateful for. I don’t want my sleep to be filled with repeated reminders of my failures. They haunt me enough when I’m awake.

The sun is starting to sink behind the tree line when the guys knock on my door again. I’m disoriented from sleep, so it takes me a minute to force my body to cooperate long enough to get myself to the door. Yet again the hallway is empty, but Titan’s spicy pink pepper and leather scent lingers in the air. At my feet is a large basket filled with…

Is that an electric kettle? Leaning down my heart leaps when I see it is in fact all of the things I need to brew hot tea without leaving the guest room. They even remembered the sugar. Dragging the basket inside, I also grab the pizza box sitting beside it. The smell of cheese, sauce, and dough has my stomach cheering expectantly.

Bringing it all over to the bed leaves me winded, my lungs and limbs burning from the effort. I slump against the messy bedding and wait for a wave of dizziness to pass. Being so sick fucking sucks. I wish I could just will my body to get over this chemical rejection so I could move on, but Fate seems determined for me to end up with my would-be mates across the house.

Finally settled back in bed with an open box of pizza and a freshly brewed cup of tea, I pull up a book on my phone and try to get lost in the world of groveling cowboys. Having sex while riding on the back of a horse isn’t an idea that’s ever crossed my mind, but damn is it fun to read about!

Warm tingles start on my thigh, right above my knee, but I ignore them while I finish the last few chapters of my book. Maybe I need to find some cowboys of my own instead of chasing after asshole musicians. Glancing around the room, I decide against any cowboy-chasing ideas. I may love outdoor adventures, but living on a farm and doing hard manual labor every day is not the path for me.

Setting my phone aside, I push down the blanket to see what their message says. The sensation of a warm bear hug wrapping around me tells me it’s from Nebula, which makes sense with the words wrapped partway down the side of my inner thigh. His thighs are probably twice the size of mine.

‘After the tour ended, I started seeing a therapist again. To find better ways to deal with my grief. She gave me homework: once a day I’m to share a story about my sister’s life. One from before she was rejected. I’d like to share today’s story with you.’

I’m glad he’s finding ways to cope with his anger from the loss of his sister. The memories he shared with me on the beach in Norfolk had hurt him deeply. Even the funniest of them was painted with sadness. He deserves to remember her without picturing the worn-down omega she must have been before she died.

‘The year before she presented, Liz was determined to get our dad these seat covers he wanted for his truck. The super durable, slightly expensive, specialty ones. We woke up early on his birthday and drove three hours to the store to get them, only to show up and realize they were closed on Sundays. Liz was distraught. Staring out the window at the store with the teariest eyes. My dad tried to reassure her he wasn’t upset and they could come back another day, but nothing seemed to cheer her up.’

I assumed his homework was to share happy stories about his sister, but whatever helps him heal.

‘At least not until we were on the highway headed back home and my dad suddenly took an exit. We were still two hours away from Nashville, so we were all confused. Even Mom was questioning where he was going. He wouldn’t tell us. Not until we pulled into the parking lot of an amusement park. We spent the rest of his birthday riding rides and eating expensive junk food. There was so much laughter. Liz lit up when he swore it was the best birthday he’d ever had.’

My teeth dig into my bottom lip as I try to digest the feelings bubbling in my heart from reading his story. Jealousy is very clear. My family never had fun moments like that. We didn’t celebrate birthdays or go to amusement parks. My father’s idea of fun was scrubbing the church clean every summer.

A little joy peeks through the jealousy too. It’s nice to know he has these happy memories of his sister to look back on. If anything would have happened to Hannah… I don’t think I could say the same. Most of my memories of my sister are tainted by the evil touch of the cult-like community we grew up in.

Maybe I should change that. We’re both free now, so why can’t I make new memories with her to replace the ones we have now?

‘Anyways, thanks for listening. I know your family was awful to you. All except for your sister. Do you miss her? Is she still in New Hampshire with her husband?’

My heart nearly stops when he asks about Hannah. He hates my birth family, her included. Does he think she is still in New Hampshire because she supports our birth father? Is this some way for him to remind himself of who I really am so he can go back to hating me?

The panic consuming me starts to ebb as I realize this is my chance. Maybe if I talk about my birth family they will change their minds and leave me alone.

The marker slides over the skin of my opposite thigh with ease. It takes a lot of focus to send the words through our frayed connection, but I can feel the settling of energy proving it worked.

‘Hannah has been working for the DAU since she turned nineteen. She’s the one who helped get me out of New Hampshire when I presented. When she heard our father was sending teams after me, she had them pull her out. She’s staying with Foster and Shepherd right now. Her and my niece Kaitlin.’

My breath catches when I hear Nexus whoop from the living room. I freeze, half expecting him to knock on the door. It would be easy for them to assume replying means I want to forgive them. It doesn’t. I’m lonely and they’re the only option available this late in the evening.

Yep, that’s definitely what is happening.

It takes a few seconds before another message comes through, this time I can feel Callisto’s calming rainstorm energy. Oops, I must have sent my message to all four of them by mistake.

‘I’m surprised the Wilsons are the ones who took her in. Isn’t Shepherd helping track down the higher-ups in the church? -Cal’

A bittersweet smile slips over my lips when I see he’s using his nickname instead of his initials like they did when we’d first formed our connection last year. In a way, this feels more genuine.

‘He is, but his priority is Hannah. Partially because she is essential to their case against a lot of the church’s benefactors, but also because there is something between them. I think he and Foster want my sister to join their pack. That’s just a guess, but the way they act around her…’

‘They’ve always talked about expanding their pack, but with both of their jobs, it’s been difficult for them to find anyone else who fits in with them. -Neb’

And who can be trusted with Shepherd’s identity within the DAU. They can’t risk adding anyone without a connection to the group when he often goes undercover to take down anti-designation crime rings.

‘Did you get to see her after she escaped? -Cal’

‘I did. Donovan brought her to my safe house so she could explain her connection to them and tell me what our father’s plans were. I also got to meet my niece for the first time. Hannah is pregnant with baby number two, a boy this time, which is another reason she’s been staying with Shepherd. To prevent her husband or my father’s followers from going after her and the kids.’

‘Nieces and nephews are so fun when they’re little! You get to teach them all kinds of bad things! How old is your niece? -Nex’

I roll my eyes when I see his message. No one is surprised Nexus is the fun uncle who probably teaches them how to say naughty things to embarrass their parents. He’s the kind of person who would buy them karaoke machines for their birthdays and not the expensive kind. He would intentionally buy the cheap ones with two volume settings: loud and mega loud.

‘She’s almost four, and extremely shy. Aside from Shepherd and Foster, she doesn’t talk to anyone but my sister.’

My heart aches imagining the emotional abuse my niece has already suffered. I know Hannah will have tried to shelter her from as much of it as possible, but no one in that awful place can ever truly escape the abuse. Not unless they leave.

‘The best age! When is her birthday? I have so many ideas!’

Lost in his excitement he forgets to tag his message, but I can feel his comforting energy wrapped around me. I think even if they all stopped saying who they were I’d be able to recognize their energy signatures in my soul.

‘Don’t worry firefly, we won’t let him go crazy and overwhelm her. -Titan’

My cheeks heat as I reread Titan’s new nickname over and over again. Darlin’ was cute, very southern of him, but firefly… I love it way too much for someone who shouldn’t want anything to do with these men.

‘Do you want to see them? We can invite your sister and Foster over to hang out. Go swimming before it gets too cold for the year. -Cal’

Glancing at the sinking sun in the distance I question if their presence here would help. I do miss Hannah like crazy, but dragging her all the way out here seems like it would be a bit much for someone who could go into labor literally any day now. I guess it wouldn’t hurt to ask though.

‘I think I’d like that. If Hannah feels up to it. She’s due next month so she may not be up for the trip.’

I can hear them in the distance. Not the words but the muffled sounds of their planning. It warms my weary soul to see them taking such a simple request so seriously. Perhaps Bea is right and I need to make them work for my forgiveness.