Chapter 37 Mirabelle
Mirabelle
“I’m going,” I say softly, pulling my shoulders back.
Rowan pauses, standing on the bed of the transport truck and getting ready to pull the door down. All three of my alphas’ gazes cut to me.
Rage’s protectiveness. Ash’s possessiveness. Griffin’s concern. It’s all written across their faces.
So is Rowan’s hesitation.
“Are you sure, Sugar?” He asks, his voice low. “You were in rough shape after watching that last fight. And now you’ve got the bond to Griffin. I don’t—there’s no good way of asking this, but will you be able to handle it?”
Flashes of the previous fight night flit through my head.
The brutality of it.
The bloodlust in the air, coming from all directions. The fighters they were up against. The people watching.
Everywhere I looked, heard, and smelled, there was violence that put my guys in danger.
But I can’t stay here.
Because at the same time, even though going to tonight’s fight terrifies me, staying here alone terrifies me even more.
My gaze jerks up to meet Griffin’s when I feel a steady pressure in the back of my head. A subtle current of reassurance he’s trying to send me through the bond.
“I don’t want to stay here alone,” I say, swallowing past the lump in my throat. “Not after—not after last time. I can handle it. Even if I have to wear the same outfit as last time.”
Rowan winces at the mention of the lingerie Jett bought me.
“Are you sure, Sugar? We’re gonna be driving over with Jett,” Rowan winces. “You—you haven’t had to see him since everything with your heat went down. He may say some shit.”
“He can say stuff but he can’t... do anything, right?” I pick nervously at my cuticles, staring down at them like they’re the most interesting thing in the world.
“He won’t touch you,” Rowan says, his voice pitched low.
“He better fuckin’ not,” Ash growls, leaning up against the bars of the transport cage. The pose is casual, but I’ve been around him long enough to see the tension rippling through his muscles. “Stop asking stupid fucking questions, kid. She wants to come, so she comes.”
“She can handle it,” Griffin adds, offering Rowan a single nod.
I think Griffin understands that my fear of the unknown—of what could happen to me if I’m left here alone again and Jett decides to come back early like he did last time—far outweighs my fear of what could happen with Rowan by my side and my alphas close.
“You better tell us if you sense some shit going on with that mind bond shit you’ve got going on,” Ash says, pointing at Griffin, his lip curling back in a snarl.
The presence of the bond between Griffin and I hasn’t exactly made their relationship any cozier. I’ve noticed a tension in the air that wasn’t there before, but Ash seems to keep things relatively amicable.
Though he seems more aggressive in the sparring matches they’ve had in the couple days of training since my heat wrapped up.
It’s been strange for all of us, I think, trying to settle back into our old routine that seemed so peaceful before everything happened.
Now I’m constantly on edge.
I think even Ash and Rage can sense it from me and they don’t have the open channel Griffin does to my emotions.
I’ve been through that artificial heat before. I don’t remember them all, just flashes here or there, but I remember nearly everything about this one.
I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget that torturous, burning, never-ending pain that radiated through my entire body. Each heartbeat pumped liquid fire through my body.
And I think what’s haunting me now, especially to see Jett again, is the idea that it could’ve been so much worse.
There was a point where I think I knew in my body and mind that the only thing that could even help to end my suffering was a knot.
And even though now that everything is over, the only knots I’d want are from my alphas, the lingering question of whether I would’ve allowed for Jett to violate me lingers in my mind.
If Rowan hadn’t fought to make sure that it was one of my alphas, would I have accepted that fate if it were the only way to stop that torture?
And to make things worse, would I have been forced to bond with someone like Jett to stay alive?
“You’re torturing me here, Sweetheart,” Griffin says, his voice strained.
My head jerks up, and I meet his gaze. His jaw ticks as he stares at me with a heartbroken expression.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I say, shaking my head.
“Don’t apologize,” Ash says automatically.
I have to purse my lips together to keep from apologizing again.
“Could you come here, Sweetheart?” Griffin murmurs, sinking down onto one knee.
I glance up at Rowan, who’s still standing on the truck bed and he offers me a nod and a hand up.
I feel incredibly awkward climbing up, so I’m grateful for Rowan’s help.
“Is everything okay?” I ask, reaching past the bars of Griffin’s cage and resting my hands on his cheeks.
I’m just barely looking down at him, even though he’s kneeling in front of me. Normally, I’m the one craning my neck to look at all the alphas. I think he’s doing this on purpose.
“I should ask you that,” he says, reaching up and brushing some of my hair away from my face. “What was running through that head of yours?”
I shake my head, my eyes fluttering shut as I lean into his touch.
“Nothing. It’s not important.”
“It’s important to us,” he pushes.
Us.
I like that about Griffin. He’s never once questioned the fact that I like all four of them. I’m sure someone out there would call me selfish for hogging them all, but I don’t think I can find it within me to care.
“I was just... thinking about how things could’ve been so much worse with everything that happened with Jett drugging me and artificially inducing my heat,” I murmur.
Rage and Ash growl from behind me, the sound echoing off the walls of the box truck.
I glance over my shoulder and wince when I see their expressions.
The last thing I want to do is make any of them feel upset.
“Ahhh, yeah, that makes a lot of sense, Sweetheart,” Griffin says, his thumb brushing my cheek gently. The tenderness he’s showing me and the emotions I’m feeling through the bond from him are so overwhelming I don’t know what to do.
There’s sadness, I think, for what I’ve been through, but there’s also a deep sense of admiration he’s feeling that doesn’t make any sense.
I can’t fathom why someone like him, someone so strong, both physically and emotionally, can view me that kind of way.
I’m pathetic. I cry too much. My pain tolerance is nonexistent. I don’t understand a lot of how the world works.
Naive. Stupid. Incompetent.
“Stop that,” Griffin says, a thread of command to his voice that has my brain stopping in its tracks.
“I don’t know what you were thinking, but the shit you were feeling? Not true.”
“Yeah,” I nod quickly. “You’re right. I’ve just got to figure out how to—how to move on.”
“You don’t have to ‘move on’ from something like that, Sugar,” Rowan says. “That shit takes time.”
I can sense Rowan’s anxious concern over me through our bond, even though it’s weaker than the one I have with Griffin.
“Oh. Well, I guess you’re right,” I say, worrying my bottom lip between my teeth.
“Remember what you do have,” Ash says.
Even though he seems to do his best to try to reassure me, his tone is still decidedly gruff. It makes my lips quirk up in a little smile as I glance at him over my shoulder.
He shrugs his shoulder, nodding at all of them. “You’ve got people behind you.”
I blink at him. He’s always been the one out of the four of them I’ve been most worried about, when it comes to accepting the rest of them, but he’s still offering me these words of reassurance.
“Yeah, I do,” I say, wiping at the tears clinging to my lower lashes before flashing them all a bright smile. “And you have me.”
“We should get ready to head out,” Rowan says, stepping up behind me and resting a hand at the curve of my waist.
“Okay,” I say, waving to the guys.
Rowan helps me down from the truck bed and closes it up before sending a message on his phone. Probably to one of the drivers. They apparently leave with the guys earlier than Rowan does because it takes more time for them to set things up.
“How far away is this fight this time around?” I ask him as we drive back to his trailer on a golf cart.
“It’s actually closer than the last fight.” He reaches over and laces his hand with mine. “So a shorter drive with Jett.”
“Will your dad be there?”
“I don’t think so, not this time. I guess he trusts me enough not to fuck things up now.” He’s silent for a long time, his jaw working. I can sense through the bond the storm of emotions swirling in his chest.
I just wait patiently, until he’s ready to say something.
“I thought his approval would feel different,” he breathes. “I’m disappointed. I spent my whole life longing for something that pales in comparison to what I’ve got with you. It even pales in comparison to what I have with the other guys, you know?”
“I think your family are the type of people who wouldn’t ever love you in the way you deserve. But I’m biased. Cause I think you deserve all the love in the world.”
“Love, huh? That’s a big word you’re throwing out there, Sugar,” he says, his lips quirked up in a smile.
He glances at me from the corner of his eye, slamming on the brakes of the golf cart.
“Ahh!” I scream, my hands flailing about in front of me.
His arm bands around my waist so I don’t slide forward in my seat.
“Why’re you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?” I ask, my eyes wide with panic. “Why’d you slam on the brakes!”
“You—you can’t say shit like that if you don’t mean it, Sugar.”
“But I do mean it! You do deserve all the love in the world.”
He blinks at me, his eyes darting frantically between mine like he’s trying to find something important.
“You don’t know what you saying that kinda stuff does to me, do you? I don’t give a shit about all the love in the world, not when all the love I want is from you...”
His words make my breath catch in my throat.