Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Quincy
Iwas pretty sure I was going to die.
It was ironic that the severing procedure hadn’t killed me all those years ago, but being separated from the alpha who I wasn’t bonded to, who I’d known for less than two weeks, was what was going to finally push me over the edge.
My well-meaning Papa tried to console me by saying I didn’t really know Jack, it was just an infatuation, and that the whole family would do whatever they could to make me feel safe, loved, and happy again. I loved them all so much, and I was incredibly lucky and grateful to have them in my life.
But they weren’t Jack.
“We’re all going out to get ice cream,” Dad said after supper, a good month after the Tech Expo. Do you want to come with us?”
“No, Dad,” I said, sitting hunched over my place at the end of the kitchen table as he and Papa set the table for dinner. “I wouldn’t be much company.”
“But you need to get out, honey,” Papa said. “To find another job, maybe? I know that one at the call center didn’t work out, but there’s bound to be another position for you out there.”
My face flared hot, and instead of being encouraged by my papa’s words, they made me feel sick.
Immediately after Amelia was forced to fire me, and probably riding a wave of impulsivity and panic after walking away from Jack, I’d rushed to find another job so that I could still contribute to the family finances, which were always iffy, considering how large our family was.
I’d landed the job at the call center fairly easily…
and then been fired within a week for snapping back at customers and bursting into tears in the middle of the day for no reason.
No reason except how heartsick I was that Jack and I had been separated.
We were really and truly separated now, too.
For the first two weeks or so, Jack had texted me and even called me a few times, though those calls never lasted long.
According to Jack he was constantly being watched, and his parents had packed his social calendar so full of events and, I suspected, dates that he hardly had time to breathe, let alone call me.
Two weeks ago, Jack’s calls and texts had suddenly stopped.
I knew one of two things had happened. Either his dad had found out that the two of us had been texting and had put a stop to it, or Jack had found someone or something more interesting than me and had moved on.
I tried not to believe that the fun and magic of someone like Jack discovering a broken and spiky omega like me had worn off and Jack had decided to cut me off suddenly instead of letting me down gently. I really didn’t think Jack would do that.
But was I worth it? An omega from an ordinary family who had extraordinary problems?
“Sweetie, are you okay?” Papa asked gently, suddenly right by me with a hand on my shoulder.
I jumped, partly because of the unexpected touch and partly because Jack had called me Sweetie once or twice and the memory was like electrified sandpaper rubbing my soul. My sever throbbed and burned, which was pretty weird, considering Chester was the one I’d been bonded to, not Jack.
“I’m fine, Papa,” I said, then felt the tears running down my face.
“Oh, honey,” Papa said, slipping into the chair beside mine so he could hug me. “It’s going to be okay. I’ll make sure of it. I don’t care how old you are, you’re my baby boy, and I will always take care of you.”
Papa’s love only made me cry harder.
“Maybe we should all go out for supper and not just ice cream,” Dad said, sitting in his chair diagonally across the table from me. He rested a hand on my head.
My vibrant pink and purple hair had faded weeks ago.
Not only did I need a haircut now, everything looked as washed out as I felt.
A good quarter inch of dishwater brown roots sat under what had once been colorful spikes.
I was thinking of taking out my piercings, too. They just didn’t feel worth it anymore.
“Papa’s already cooked supper,” I said, sniffing wetly and forcing myself not to act like one of the little kids when they’d scraped their knee. “I’m okay. We can eat here and all go out for ice cream after supper.”
“Okay,” Papa said, kissing my forehead and then standing. He sent Dad a look over my head before they both moved away.
They disappeared into the hallway for a second. Three guesses what they were talking about.
I sighed and turned my cell phone, which was on the table in front of me, face up.
For the millionth time in the past few hours, I tapped to my texts and scrolled through the dozen or so messages I’d sent Jack since he stopped answering me.
It made me sick to see the last, pitiful conversation we’d had two weeks ago, followed by a long string of one-sided questions from me about whether he was alright.
It was probably a bad idea, but I typed another text.
“I miss you so much. I can’t breathe without you. I love you forever.”
I hit send, then waited with bated breath, but nothing happened. Not even three dots. It was like Jack had blocked my number.
Dad and Papa came back into the kitchen with fake smiles, pretending that nothing was wrong.
Alex and Teddy followed them in, arguing about some video game they must have been playing before being called to supper.
Jennifer was complaining about the noise they were making, and Miles sulked in behind everyone and plopped into the seat beside me.
“Hey,” I told my younger brother, wiping my face and quickly putting my phone in my jeans pocket.
“Hey,” Miles replied, like a typical fifteen-year-old. He had a look in his eyes that just about killed me, though. My brother didn’t know what to do about me. My pain upset him, but at his age, he probably didn’t know why or what to do about it.
What he did about it, what everyone in the family had been doing about it for the last month was pretending there wasn’t a giant, black elephant in the room that looked like me.
“I thought we’d go out to Tanner’s for ice cream after supper,” Dad said, trying to change the mood as he and Papa brought all the serving dishes to the table. “We could get some cones and watch the cows in the field.”
“Yay! Ice cream!” Alex and Teddy shouted.
“Simmer down, you two,” Papa said while Jennifer grunted in disgust and rolled her eyes.
They were a typical, happy family. I loved them, but I didn’t belong.
Maybe I should just do them all a favor and run away.
Maybe I should sign up for another play scene with the Dark Fantasies Club so I could get Jack out of my heart and off my skin.
That idea repulsed me as soon as it popped into my head. I didn’t want another alpha to touch me. Ever. I belonged to Jack, and that was that.
Fuck. What was I going to do when my next heat hit in about four months? It would be a nightmare.
“Honey, you’re not eating your spaghetti,” Papa pointed out.
He was right. Papa had served me like I was a toddler, but I hadn’t even picked up my fork to eat. I didn’t want to pick it up. I had no appetite at all. I just wanted to—
The doorbell rang.
Everyone at the table stopped and exchanged confused looks. The doorbell was on the front door, but everyone who was anyone and who knew us knew to come in through the kitchen door.
The doorbell rang again.
“I’ll get it,” Papa said, rising with a confused look.
The kids all went back to eating, but I had some sort of weird sixth sense that something was wrong. My sever was acting up like mad.
A few seconds later, I knew why. I’d thought it was my feelings about Jack that were making that part of my soul burn and ache, but when Papa came back into the kitchen, looking nervous but strangely hopeful, with Chester right behind him, everything made horrible sense.
“Look who it is,” Papa said, his voice breathy. I knew he was anxious, because he went to stand behind Dad’s chair instead of resuming his own seat.
“Chester,” my dad greeted the new arrival with an awkward smile. He stood a beat too late and stepped around the table to hold his hand out to my ex. “What a surprise to see you here. It’s been ages.”
“Yes, it has,” Chester said.
The weird, bristly energy he’d had at the expo and when he’d spoken to me in the office before that was there in droves, but I could tell he was trying to fight it. We might not have been bonded anymore, but I’d known him since we were kids and I could read his moods.
Chester turned to me, heat flooding his face and neck, cleared his throat, and said, “Hi, Quincy.”
“Chester.” I nodded tightly at him, but that was it.
The kitchen was silent. Even the younger kids knew something was wrong.
“Where are my manners?” Papa pushed himself into motion first. “Come and sit down. We have extra spaghetti, if you’re hungry, although I’m sure homecooked spaghetti is pedestrian compared to what you must be used to eating these days.”
“No, no, that’s fine,” Chester said, holding up one hand. “I mean, I still appreciate a homecooked meal. I haven’t gotten that much bigger than my britches.” He laughed stiltedly.
I hated him. I couldn’t put my finger on exactly what it was, but every instinct in me was certain he’d played a major part in keeping me and Jack apart.
“What do you want?” I asked, pushing back my chair and standing.
My parents both stiffened, exchanging a look like they were certain they’d have to jump in to put a stop to their dangerous and unpredictable son at any moment.
“I, erm, um….” Chester glanced around the table with a desperate look.
“Let’s take this into the other room,” I said, moving toward the door.
I kind of hated the way my whole family let out a breath of relief as we left. I knew they loved me, but I also knew my problems were bigger than they could handle sometimes. And they knew Chester had instigated those problems.