Chapter 42
Griffin
“You being serious?” My hands feel clammy as I wipe them against my thighs.
I don’t know why I feel so... nervous.
Pretty sure I’ve dreamed of the opportunity to see my father again and show him the actual power behind the fists he bet on for years. Show him the monster he made by making me fight in those rings to feed his addiction along with the family.
I shouldn’t have been put in that position. Not when I started. I was so young. Younger than Rowan and he’s basically still a kid.
“Dead serious,” Ash nods.
“You gonna be all right down here?” I glance down at Rowan, who offers me a pale half smile.
“I mean, it’s the best option we’ve got, right?” He asks.
“Can—can we go to the hospital or something? Are you sure this will work?” Mirabelle asks, her eyes wide. The lingering explosive bitterness of her fear still clings to the air around her, but she’s done a good job trying to stifle it.
“You know what we can afford at a hospital right now? Maybe the bandages, if we’re lucky. Those places like to up charge and bleed you dry of all the money you have,” Ash grunts.
“We also can’t bring you to a hospital, Sweetheart,” I answer, shaking my head. “You’re an unregistered omega.”
“Oh,” she says, deflating against Rage’s chest. “I just—I just know how much you don’t want to see your dad.”
“It’s fine. I’ll be fine.” I don’t think I believe myself and I know she knows that. I wouldn’t be able to hide such a powerful emotion from our bond if I tried.
“He’ll have me, Shortcake. His pretty face won’t have to worry about a thing.” Ash’s grin is vicious. I’m grateful for his eagerness, even if it’s less because he wants to support me and more because he wants to throw some punches.
I understand the itch. There’s still a decent amount of the booster drug pumping through our systems. I’m surprised Rage hasn’t lost it more.
Well, he got to try tearing Jett’s limbs from his body, so maybe that helped him get it out of his system.
“Let’s get going,” I nod. “We don’t want to run out of time.”
I glance at Mirabelle and Rowan, the two most vulnerable members of our makeshift, ragtag pack. Because it’s becoming obvious to me that’s what we are. We’ll have to have an official discussion about it later, once all the dust settles, but I can’t see a reality where we don’t make things official.
“Keep them safe, big guy,” Ash orders, pointing at Rage.
He offers Ash a single, decisive nod. There’s no one else I’d entrust their safety to.
“We’ve got a little issue,” Ash grumbles as I reach for the doorknob of our hotel room.
I glance at him, over my shoulder, to see him spreading his arms wide. He waves down at his body.
“Don’t think most people walk around in nothin’ but a pair of boxers,” Ash huffs.
“Well, these were the only pair of clothes in the car. We’ll have to stop by a place or something.”
“Fine,” Ash nods.
Which means we’ll have to spend more of Rowan’s money.
It’s fifty bucks a night to stay at this place. Rowan had about five grand in cash, but with things like the medical supplies we’re probably going to cover along with food and clothes for everyone, we’re probably going to burn through that money pretty quick.
We’ll need a way of making quick cash.
“You driving?” Ash asks.
I shake my head, blinking at him from over the hood of the car.
Oh. I guess I am. I’m standing on the driver’s side.
“Yeah, I guess so,” I shrug, pulling the door open.
We’ll have to air this place out. Even with Mirabelle’s lingering perfume in the front of the cabin, Jett’s moldy scent still lingers around.
Maybe I should get myself clothes when we make that stop. I want to get his dirty clothes off my body.
“Who pissed in your cereal?” Ash asks as we climb into the car.
“What?” I ask.
“Your head’s been a million miles away since we left the room.”
“Just thinking.”
“No shit,” he says, rolling his eyes. “I’m trying to ask you what you’re thinking about.”
“Oh. Just about how we’re going to make money. We’re probably going to burn through Rowan’s cash pretty fast.”
Ash stares at me like I’m stupid.
“You’re joking, right?”
“What? No, that’s what I was thinking about.”
“We fight,” Ash says, as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world. “You made money fighting, right?”
“I mean yeah, before my dad fucking sold me off, I made decent money fighting.”
“Then we make decent money fighting. It’s the only fucking reliable thing I know how to do, anyway. Why not use that shit?” He cracks his knuckles again, a determined look in his eye.
Damn. He’s right. It’s the most logical thing to do.
I need to pull my head out of my ass. This time around, I won’t be fighting for my ungrateful family.
I’ll be fighting to make sure we can keep Mirabelle safe and comfortable.
This is the easiest way to give her the life she deserves.
A life where we can get her the simple things that seem to make her world light up.
Will we be able to get her the designer bags and clothes the Northside omegas seem to want from their alphas? Probably not. But Mirabelle doesn’t seem like she’d ever be the kind of omega that would want that kinda shit in the first place.
“You’re right. I’ll get the fighting ring contacts from my dad too, when we’re there.”
“You don’t know those contacts yourself?”
“He was the one who arranged my fights. Guy was basically my manager.”
“So basically, he was your pimp?”
I roll my eyes as I pull out of the parking lot.
“That’s definitely one way to put it, asshole.”
“Just calling it how I see it,” he shrugs. “Do you even know where we’re going?”
“Sort of. There’s a truck stop close to my parents’ place. Pretty sure they’ve got some basic clothes there.”
The rest of the drive is silent, the only sounds between us being the car’s engine.
“I’ll be right back,” I say, throwing open the car door in the parking lot of the truck stop. The fluorescent lights of the store have me on edge. I don’t know why I feel so strange walking around in public right now. Other than a tired-looking beta cashier, there’s no one here at this late hour.
I try to shake off the buzzing sense of anxiety as I pick up five t-shirts and then five pairs of gray sweatpants. Might as well pick up some clothes for everyone else while I’m here.
Pretty sure even the smallest size will still swallow Mirabelle and the biggest size will barely fit Rage, but it’s better than nothing.
Under my other arm, I snag four pairs of slides. No way in hell I’m wearing these too-tight tennis shoes for any longer than I have to. Plus, Mirabelle shouldn’t be forced to wear heels all the time. They’re cheap and rubbery, but they’ll do the trick until we can get something better.
“Will that be all for you tonight?” The bored beta drones as he scans the tags of all the clothes.
I stare at the total price, rapping my knuckles against the table.
“Yeah,” I bite out, slapping two hundred and ten dollars of cash onto the table.
That’s four nights of the motel right there. Goddammit, things are so fucking expensive.
The beta finally seems to get the memo that I’ve got places to be, probably since my dominance is swirling in the air around me. He hurries to count my change and hand it back to me.
“Thanks,” I say, grabbing the stack of clothes and tucking them under my arm.
My heart pounds when I step out of the store. Now there’s no delaying it. It’s time to go see my family.
“Here, put some clothes on,” I say, shoving the stack into Ash’s lap. “Clothes that fit us are in the middle of the pile.”
“You get clothes for all of us or something? I didn’t even know places like these had clothes you could buy.”
“Thought it’d be best for all of us to have some clothes. At least before we actually go shopping,” I answer, pulling the truck out of the parking lot with a screech of tires.
I need to calm down. My jaw works as I fight to take a deep breath.
“Your family’s got you all worked up, huh?”
“You don’t need to talk to me about it. I know you’re the last person to want to talk about feelings.”
There’s a beat of silence in the car.
“Good, you’re right. I don’t wanna talk about feelings. What I do want to talk about is how goddamn stupid these shirts you bought are.”
“What?”
He holds up a shirt with a wolf howling at a terribly photoshopped moon. And then another with a bald eagle screeching with its wings spread over a monster truck.
“Oh, well I didn’t really look at what I was grabbing.”
“Did they seriously not have anything else?” He huffs.
“I thought they were just black t-shirts. Didn’t check what they had on them.” The corner of my lips tug up in the briefest hint of a smile. “They’re kinda funny though.”
“They’re gonna make me look like an idiot,” Ash says, rolling his eyes as he tugs the wolf t-shirt over his head.
“Better than nothing, right?”
“Which one are you gonna put on?”
I purse my lips together, trying to keep my expression straight.
“Now that I’ve gotten a look at what I’ve actually bought, I think I’ll keep on these clothes for now.”
“You’re a fuckin’ ass, anybody ever tell you that?”
“Only you. Every day since I’ve met you,” I laugh.
The laughter is good for my soul. I’m grateful Ash is here with me, even if he’s a prickly guy.
I just hope I’ll be able to keep my dad’s stink off me while we get what we need.
The lights are on at my parents’ little old house. Unsurprising. My entire family have been night owls for as long as I can remember.
“This it?” Ash asks, falling silent by my side.
“Yeah.”
My eyes catch on the bumper of my old car, a twenty-five year old Toyota 4Runner. There’s a dent along the front bumper that wasn’t there before.
“You’re fucking joking me,” I grumble.
“What?”
“My car. Someone fucked with it,” I huff, throwing open the door to the truck. “Probably my younger brother.”
“The 4Runner?” Ash asks, following me.
“Yeah.”