Chapter 42
Chapter Forty-Two
Mal
Lots of Thoughts
I sleep like a rock and wake up way earlier than I planned. Slightly disappointed that I’m in my own bed, but smiling as I grab a shower because Todd tucked me into bed. Honestly, I have no memory of it.
That’s how safe he makes me feel—so safe that I fell asleep in his arms.
That’s literally a first for me. I’ve never felt safe allowing myself that kind of vulnerability for a variety of reasons. Mainly because I never wanted my father to catch me asleep with someone, and I certainly didn’t want to put them at risk from him.
Part of me hates myself that I didn’t nut up and buy a gun and take him out during a run.
Except I know my three brothers would have chased me down on general principles to kill me, even though taking out Randolph Sterling would mean their lives get a lot easier, too.
Then they could fight each other for who would take over as the pack Alpha.
I damned sure don’t want it.
I catch a whiff of food and head out to see if Todd’s awake just to find him stepping out his back door.
And he looks happy to see me, something else I belatedly realize has been lacking in my life. Except Mom.
Sorry. In this case, she doesn’t count.
He gives me a kiss that helps wake me up and I find he has breakfast ready for me.
Unfortunately, I learn why he’s up so early. While the reason sucks, I also appreciate that he didn’t leave without talking to me first.
He cares about my feelings.
Fuck me, I know I absolutely shouldn’t fall for this guy—this sweet, hunky, sexy, strong, well-hung guy—but yeah. I’m already there.
Except he tells me about the vampires, and why they’re coming, and my heart hits the floor. No, I didn’t cause this problem, but yeah, guilt by association.
And now new fears about hiding myself because of my father’s actions, that fucking asshole.
I promise Todd I won’t leave the property—an easy promise to make—and after one last kiss I shoo him out the door to go help Jax and the others while I stay behind to do the dishes.
He says I can have the run of his house if I want, and even use the pool that I hadn’t realized was there.
It’s on the far end, accessible from inside, screened in and enclosed by an eight-foot-tall wooden privacy fence he keeps locked on the outside unless he’s having a gathering and people are using it.
Since I’m alone and not exactly worried about company dropping in, I strip and jump into the deep end.
It’s a twenty-five-meter pool and I slowly swim a few laps before flipping onto my back to float with my eyes closed.
The sun beats down on me, and in contrast to the comfortably cool water, it feels great in the thick, humid Florida heat that’s already cranking up this early in the morning.
It’ll be a scorcher.
In the distance, I hear faint sounds from the barn area of the daily routine underway and feel slightly guilty I’m not down there helping. I know Todd said I could take the day off but I feel like I should be working.
Unlike my brothers, who were pretty much handed everything by Dad, I worked—in school, at jobs.
Even to escape.
I never wanted things handed to me although I could have snapped my fingers and been granted them.
Even as a kid, I realized those things weren’t gifts; they were nooses that tightened incrementally until they’d strangle any semblance of individuality from me if I allowed myself to give in and go along.
I have no doubt if I married Lana Chastain the way Dad ordered me to, and if she didn’t get pregnant within a year, he’d force me to go to a fertility clinic, masturbate, and get her pregnant via IVF.
I didn’t fit into his perfect family image being myself, so he’d pound my round peg into one of his square holes no matter what the cost to me. To him, my happiness is irrelevant.
The only happiness he cares about is his own. Funny thing is, I can never remember seeing him truly happy about anything.
You don’t believe me about him forcing me to breed?
A few years ago there was another couple I strongly suspected only got married to be mutual beards, two omegas, and I overheard several conversations Dad had with a pack doctor to get her pregnant by her spouse even if he had to tie the guy down and shove an electric probe up his ass to force it out of him like they do cattle, and tie her down to put it in her.
She ended up having twins.
And then she committed suicide two weeks after they were born.
No, it wasn’t staged by my father, either. I remember during her pregnancy how misery washed off her in waves at pack events where her parents and in-laws happily raved at how they were about to be grandparents. The husband looked miserable, too, but seemed to be genuinely worried about her.
She dropped her husband and the babies at her parents’ house with the excuse that she was going to her own doctor appointment.
Instead, she returned home and hung herself after videotaping a message saying exactly why, blaming my father for it, and keeping the camera running while she did it so no one else could be blamed for it.
I also remember hearing Dad’s enraged screams at people in his home office later that night after she did it, and he ordered the husband to remarry another woman less than four weeks later.
A week before that wedding was to take place, the man left the babies at his parents’ house and claimed he was going shopping ahead of the wedding.
They found him dead later that evening in the same park where I made my escape from.
He consumed an entire bottle of Xanax, two bottles of vodka, and then slit his wrists.
He left a voice message on his phone apologizing to their kids and the grandparents, but blamed my father. They found a handwritten suicide note in his car, and he’d mailed copies of it to both sets of grandparents on his way to the park. They received them the next day.
I don’t know what happened to the babies after that. I hope their grandparents are raising them, but Dad didn’t attend either funeral.
Still, there were other times he ordered people to get wed and breed, but to the best of my knowledge, none of them ended so tragically.
All Dad cares about is expanding the pack and consolidating power at any expense. Well, and he cares about his image, obviously.
I probably couldn’t take him in a fair fight, although I certainly could outrun him. I don’t want to be a murderer, and I absolutely don’t want to kill myself.
But I’ll be damned if I’ll let him force me into a relationship I don’t want.
My father might be an Alpha, but I fantasize that Todd, despite being a beta, walks up to him and kicks his ass from here to Mars. Because I have no doubt Todd could do that. My father’s not a small man, yet Todd is way bigger than him, both in human and in shifted forms.
I fantasize about showing up at their front door with Todd on my arm and Todd’s ring on my finger and imagining the shock on Randolph Sterling’s face.
Except that wouldn’t end well for anyone if I did. He’d shoot us and claim we threatened him.
Still, a guy can dream, right?
After my swim I dry off, grab my clothes without putting them on yet, and stop in the doorway of Todd’s bedroom. It’s tidy and he’s made his bed.
Knowing this is a violation of privacy and hoping he doesn’t get mad, I walk over to his bed, bury my face in his pillow, and deeply inhale. I close my eyes and rub my face all over it while thinking about him.
That succeeds in quickly getting me hard, so I return to the pool to jerk off while thinking about last night.
I’ve got it bad for him.
I dry off—again—and this time pull on my clothes before returning to the house…
And I stop at Todd’s bedroom door again.
Before I chicken out I rush into his bathroom, grab a dirty T-shirt from his hamper, and scurry back to my apartment.
There, I sit on my bed with it pressed to my face for several minutes, breathing in his scent.
Fuck. Me.
I’ve got it bad for him.
Sure, Mal’s logical brain says I’m a fucking idiot, because this could be mostly a trauma response, CPTSD, infatuation, because sure he’s hunky, but he’s also helping me and rolled my eyes back in my head multiple times last night.
I’m hard again but if I sit in here all day I’ll end up rubbing my cock raw, and if I want to talk Todd into a repeat of last night I probably should save it.
I leave his shirt on my bed, change into work clothes, and make my way down to the barn to help out.
Todd said he wasn’t certain when he’d return home later tonight, but that I was free to cook myself dinner in his kitchen.
Rather than taking the day off I’ll redirect my energy into something not requiring me to think.
I’ll still work with Todd when he takes over for his guys this weekend but I need to stay busy while he’s gone and do something that will force me not to dive inside my head and spend all day jerking off.
And no shade to other people’s kinks, but shoveling cow shit and repairing fences certainly isn’t an aphrodisiac to me.