Chapter 19
19
HUNTER
“You look like shit,” I comment dryly to Donovan. His busted lip is healing, and he looks presentable enough for the wedding, but I want the barb to affect him.
Especially after the motherfucker took all the knobs off the fucking doors in the packhouse.
Even the bathroom ones, because he’s gone off the deep end.
“And so do you,” I snap at Liam, who frowns at me.
I’m furious at him, too. He let Donovan back into the packhouse after he agreed to go to therapy. And when that happened, I stormed out and spent the day in the studio, sketching and creating anything I could to keep April off my mind.
Then I came back to a house with no fucking locks on it.
To be honest, I’m mad that I didn’t think of it first.
But it’s pointless if April is never coming back.
I don’t even know what Donovan did with the locks and doorknobs—they mysteriously disappeared.
And unless he somehow gave them to April, she’ll never know about his efforts.
We still have a lock on the front door, backyard, and the gate to our home—but they’re keypads.
Which again, doesn’t matter if we’re never going to fucking see April again.
I don’t know how Liam can stay so calm around Donovan. We’re on the yacht, leaving the marina to head to the wedding, and I’m ready to jump overboard and let the sharks eat me.
I don’t want to be here.
I don’t want to be anywhere but where April is.
“You don’t need to be rude, Hunter,” Liam says.
I’m going to let the sharks eat Liam, too.
I’m crawling out of my fucking skin. I can’t get the image out of my head of April, heartbroken and terrified once we opened the door to her room.
How can we come back from that?
She changed her number, and I knew that showing up at her place wouldn’t be the right thing to do. It would only make her shut down more, so I’ve stayed away.
Besides work, I’ve thrown myself into art as much as I can. I’ve filled up sketchbooks with only images of her sweet eyes haunting me.
She has every right to not show up today. She shouldn’t, after what Donovan did, and after Liam and I failed to protect her from him.
She wouldn’t even speak to us after we let her out of the bedroom. Her nails were chipped, and her eyes were glassy with tears, but she wouldn’t let us comfort her.
She shut down and left.
A wave of nausea hits me as I stare at the water.
I can’t do this today.
I can’t fucking do this?—
“Hunter.” Liam’s voice interrupts me. “You’re growling.”
I didn’t realize my chest was vibrating until Liam pointed it out, and I catch guests on the yacht murmuring as they look at me.
I sneer at them, not caring.
Fuck them all.
Let them be as miserable as I am, knowing that my Omega is out there without me.
I’m blocked on the second phone I gave her, too.
I wonder if she tossed it in the trash.
If she’s smart, she did.
Which is a shame, because I was just about to beat her high score on the game we were playing together on it.
She’s the best gaming friend I’ve ever had, even better than Liam, which is saying something.
I’m going to miss the fuck out of her.
“I need to get off this boat,” I mutter, storming away from Liam and heading over to the bar. I grab a cup of water and down it, closing my eyes as the wind whips around me.
I never wanted to attend this wedding in the first place, but after meeting April, I was almost looking forward to it.
I planned to dance with her all night, drink stupid fruity drinks with her, and just have fun.
But all that shit is ruined.
The island slowly comes into view, and I hear the excited chatter of the other guests.
It looks like a mini paradise. The water is a stunning bright blue, and the sky is cloudless and cheerful. Lush trees sit on pristine, bright sand.
I hate it.
Sophie and Tom are coming on their own yacht, so I don’t even have friends I can complain to.
I’m stuck with Donovan, Liam and the April-shaped hole in my heart.
Even after I’m off the ship and walking along the beach, the nausea doesn’t stop.
Liam and Donovan make their rounds, chatting to guests politely, while I sulk away from everyone else.
If someone asks where April is and why she’s not with us, I’ll lose it on them.
A breeze picks up, and I curse my mind for playing tricks on me.
I swear I can smell her. Cookies, vanilla, and the slightest, sweetest hint of brown sugar invade my senses, and my Alpha senses flare to life.
Maybe I’m going crazy like Donovan.
But that scent only increases, carried to me by the wind, and my mouth waters.
Omega.
But she’s not here.
I swallow the ugly lump in my throat, run a hand through my hair, and close my eyes.
Please, baby, come back to me.
I’ll do fucking anything.
Just…please.
I’m not above praying to whatever fucked up being out there that might bring April back.
I don’t care if it’s pathetic.
Frankly, I don’t care about anything besides April.
The woman I’m in love with.
My mate.
I should have told her before. I shouldn’t have let the stupid contract dictate how much of my feelings I would share with her.
I should have told her I loved her the moment she stepped into the packhouse.
Could have, should have, would have.
Another yacht docks, and I recognize it as Tom and Sophie’s.
They’re going to ask where April is, and I can’t handle that question.
I can’t handle any of this.
The sugary Omega scent grows stronger, and I’m convinced I’ve lost my mind.
But then Sophie steps out onto the dock, followed by a head of chestnut hair I’d recognize from a mile away.
I blink, then blink again.
She’s here.
April’s here .