Chapter Twenty
A s soon as we’d gotten home from the meeting with Bartholomew—and Lilith—it was like the smells of the house jumpstarted my brain. I ran for a notebook, the one I’d been using for the case, and flipped more than halfway through it before finding a new page to start jotting down my questions.
The first question I wrote down was Everett’s. What does it mean to fight back?
Then I created columns of what I suspected “fighting” would entail, like interviews and speeches and actual protesting and created pros and cons for each.
When hands came to my waist, I jumped, not expecting the touch.
“It’s all right, pet. I’m just moving you from the doorway so you can sit down and write.
” Atlas’s hands effectively maneuvered me onto the bed, carefully pushing me down so I was sitting on the edge.
“Keep writing. I’m just going to help you get settled.
” He started taking off my shoes, but not even the sexy look of Atlas on his knees in front of me was enough to stop my hands from writing.
Could I handle the scrutiny of being in the public eye?
Could I live with the guilt if I didn’t help make the OC better?
Would the stress be too much for my pack?
Was Atlas’s farm safe? Pink Lady Ranch had been in Atlas’s family for generations. Even the website boasted about the fact that it was omega-owned. But was it safe from being torn away from him out of spite? I didn’t trust the lengths Adam would go to.
Would I have to start wearing descenter again?
That question had my hand stopping of its own accord. What version of me did Lilith want? The beta that catered to omegas, wearing descenter, and playing by the rules of designation. I didn’t think I was her anymore. At least, I didn’t want to be her anymore.
That version of Eve would have never asked Everett to claim her—honestly, that version of Eve would have never accepted a place in a pack to start with.
My hand came to the gold necklace around my neck, the one I always wore with the Wilder name on it. In some ways, it had replaced the little stuffed toy in my purse that I used to cling to.
If I wasn’t that Eve anymore, would I still have deleted the file? The answer to that was a resounding, no-hesitation yes. Of course I would.
So why was I hesitating now when it came to defending more omegas?
I kept writing questions down until my hand ached. I made lists of pros and cons. I tried to decide what the worst possible outcome could be and if I could live with it.
My pen died.
Another was handed over, the fluffy pink ball at the end not even a hinderance as I continued to jot down questions and concerns as they came to me.
There was so much to note. I tried to make a summary of everything Lilith had said in the meeting which made me wish I’d taped it.
Then I made a new list of things I wanted to buy for my future meetings—including something to record them.
Eventually I ran out of room in my notebook. I made an impertinent sound as I got up and found a fresh book to write in. I broke the spine so it wouldn’t hurt my hand with all the writing and then continued.
My words were becoming illegible. The more tired my hand became, the less I picked up my pen which had the letters all stringing together like the worst kind of cursive.
At one point, my hand spasmed so bad that my thumb started twitching uncontrollably.
“All right. That’s the limit, pet.”
My notebook was plucked from my hands, since I was still standing in the middle of the room from when I’d grabbed the fresh book, and then Atlas’s hands were attacking me. Truthfully, he was just rubbing out my stiff palm, but the pain nearly took me to my knees.
“Talk to me. Tell me where your head is at.”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “That’s why I need to keep writing. I need to work through all my thoughts. All the possibilities, all the outcomes.”
“Why don’t you work them out with me? That way you don’t literally break your hand from all the writing.”
I was shaking my head, although I didn’t really mean no. I just didn’t know where to start. What was I most worried about? “If I do this—if we do this. It’s for life.”
Atlas nodded. “So was mating. You think you’ll ever get rid of me, pet? Nah-uh. We’re for life.”
“I feel like I ruined the peace you all had before. It was so quiet, so studious, and now we’re talking about being constantly in front of the cameras. Being interrogated and scrutinized.”
“First off—”
I sucked in a hard gasp as his thumbs seemed to find a literal knot in my hand that was cramping.
“You might have brought some attention to our lives, but that doesn’t make it a bad thing.
You think I would have been happy doing every day on a ranch for the rest of my life?
” He shook his head like even the notion of that disgusted him.
“The fact that my mate is bound to make change, real change in the world? I find that sexy as fuck, pet.”
“I have to agree with Atlas.” Oaks came into the bedroom, half throwing himself onto the bed. “My job is just that. A job. I’d give it up in a heartbeat if I could, especially if it came down to protecting you, darlin. It’s not even a question.”
Behind me, Everett cleared his throat, pulling my attention to the way he was leaning against the wall. “I think a part of it is my alpha instinct. I ... like the idea of protecting you. Defending you. It makes me feel like you trust me.”
“I do trust you.” I’d tried to move toward him, but Atlas refused to let go of my hand, giving me a little shrug and an unrepentant smirk. “I trust all of you.”
Honestly, there was only one thing holding me back, and the fact that it was, was nearly embarrassing. “I think I need to talk to my parents.”
Oaks sat up on the bed. “You want them to try and talk you out of it?”
“No. I just... I want to tell them. I feel like, maybe this time, they’ll care.” About me. They’ll care enough about me to look past my designation to the actual effects on my life.
I knew my family only saw me as a beta, but I needed them to see me as Eve. Just for a moment. And if they realized how I was protecting omegas, I figured they’d side with me. They had to. Right?
“All right,” Oaks agreed, although he didn’t look too sure.
I felt Atlas’s reluctance as well, since I had to fight him for control of my hand back.
Everett offered to get my phone and returned with my whole purse. I grabbed the device and even unclipped the little stuffed toy, dangling the plastic carabiner from my finger.
I sent a text to Mom Elizabet, telling her I had news, and I’d like to tell the whole family at once, so if she could please call me as soon as it was convenient. I clung tighter to the stuffed animal. I remembered the little girl who gave it to me.
She’d asked if I was sad. If I was lonely. I’d told her no. She’d wanted to know why I was all alone. Why I’d looked like I was about to cry.
“My moms were supposed to meet me here,” I’d told her. “But they were too busy. Must have forgotten.”
“Oh.” She hadn’t known what to say to that. Kids didn’t particularly care about social decorum, which is how she’d easily changed the topic. “Well, my mom is taking me shopping for some pillows for my room. The ones I have now aren’t soft enough. Do you like pillows?”
“I do.”
“Maybe your moms will take you pillow shopping then.”
“Maybe.”
Her mom had called for her, looking incredibly amused when she’d found her talking to me. “Are you ready to go, Candice?”
“Here you go.” The little girl—Candice—had handed me her toy. “I hope your moms show up next time.” And then she’d just skipped away.
My phone buzzed, not the type with a message, but indicating a call. That pulled me out of the depressing memory. Or maybe it was a happy one? I wasn’t sure. My parents hadn’t shown up to meet me ... in fact, they’d completely forgotten and never even apologized.
That little girl? She was kind. So sweet to a stranger. She hadn’t cared about my designation, she just saw someone sad and wanted to offer something, some form of comfort.
“Wow,” I answered the phone, “I didn’t think you’d call back so quickly.”
“Yes, well, we have a few minutes. Beatrice called and said she and her pack were running late.”
Right. “Do you mind putting me on speaker so everyone can hear?” I wasn’t stalling. Not necessarily. It just made more sense to only have to admit everything once. I squeezed tighter to the stuffed toy.
I had my mates. No matter how this phone call went. I had my mates.
“All right, you’re on speaker, Eve,” Mom Elizabet said. “What’s your big news?”
I’d wished my mouth was dry. Or my throat was closing. Something that gave me an excuse to stall. Instead, words just started falling out. “You all remember a few months ago when I was let go from the OC?”
Murmurs of agreement went up.
“I still think you should have fought that, Eve,” my dad said. “I know you’re happy now with your pack and all, but you gave a lot of good years to the OC. I’m sure they could have found some way to save your position. Or transfer you to another location.”
Mama Ruth made a clucking sound. “Considering all the drama that’s happening now at the compound, it might have been a saving grace that Eve was let go.”
“Well, that’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.” My words were lost as my parents continued to talk.
“The problem is,” Momma Abigail started, “They’re letting go of all the good betas like Eve.”
“I hate to be the one to say it.” That was Mama Ruth. “But I do think this was for the best. Maybe betas, even the good ones, just aren’t capable of helping omegas. The designation gap is so wide. You can’t expect them to truly understand the dynamics. They can’t biologically understand—”
I cut my Mama off. “I actually didn’t call to debate the allowance of betas in the OC.”
“Watch your tone,” Deborah-Ma snapped. “We’re still your parents.”
“Are you?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”