Twenty #2
The drive goes a little bit too quickly, making me nervous as we get closer to our destination.
I almost stop her when we park in front of the actual bakery, because a tiny, miniscule voice in my head is whispering, ‘what if you’re wrong?
’ But then I pat my pocket with all the paperwork in it and I forge ahead, joining her inside the shop.
She’s already ordered a triple chocolate cookie while I deliberated, so I pay and wait for her to collect her obscene sugar hit and then open the door for her.
I gesture to the park, aiming to take the long way around so I can brief her.
Now that she has something to focus her senses on, she’ll probably be a bit more docile. Not too docile, because I’m pretty sure she’s completely fucking feral, but a bit.
“So. I came across something…mighty interesting the other day.”
She licks a giant blob of melted chocolate from the side of her hand, and I fucking hate that my biology likes it. “Which means you were sticking your nose in someone else’s business, probably. Proceed.”
“You see, it’s been bugging me for a while that something about this whole situation with you seemed a bit…off.”
She laughs. “I’ll say. You guys used to fuck my sister, who was abusing me and pretending to be me. If we all had a normally functioning relationship, I’d say multiple psychologists needed to get involved.”
“Do you always need to be so crass?”
Another bite of cookie. Another lick up the side of her hand so she’s not sticky later.
“Hate to break it to you, but I’m pretty sure my sister permanently damaged my brain with her behaviors.
If you guys wanted a refined omega, you never should have taken me out of my hole in the wall.
Would have solved all your problems before they even started. ”
“Docile omegas are boring.”
She chokes, spinning to me wide-eyed. “Did we just…agree on something? Holy fuck!”
My lips twitch, but it’s definitely not a smile. “Whatever. As I was saying, I’ve been in touch with some…old friends. But they’re not actually my old friends, they’re your old friends.”
“Don’t know why you bribed someone to pretend like they know me, but I’m not dumb. You know I don’t know anybody aside from your pack. Unless you trapped some of the mice that lived in the walls back at my old place. If so, I hope you get rabies.”
Ignoring her idiotic ill wishes, I forge ahead.
“Which is what I thought, too, until Clement’s fashion show the other week.
Those alphas you literally ran into, that wasn’t a coincidence, was it?
You knew they’d be there. That was the only way to see them.
I watched the security footage because I got my ass chewed out for that happening.
Good thing, too, because otherwise, I wouldn’t have known where to dig. ”
She finally stops, alarm taking over her features. I tell my alpha to chill out though, because her well-being is none of our concern right now. We don’t protect liars.
“The alphas that tried to assault me? Those alphas? The ones I kneed in the balls when they started touching me? The ones that smelled like rotting oil and ashtrays? Moon. I know you’re a dumbass, but really?
This is what you think I’ve been up to? Mooning after useless alphas, pun intended, when I have a whole pack of scent-matched, capable ones at my disposal?
Were you dropped a lot on your head as a child? Or maybe as an adult?”
I feel my aggression rising, which is perfect because we’re almost there. Time for the coup de grace.
I pull out the paperwork and hand it to her, snagging her sticky treat and tossing it in the closest trash bin before she can stop me. After dousing my hands in sanitizer I always keep on me, I look up to figure out why she hasn’t cussed me out for throwing away her sugar.
An unnatural silence surrounds us, a bubble, and those instincts are hard to ignore.
It’s unsettling enough that I have to ask her, “What?”
Mouth open in horror, she flips through the pages and lets out a scream before throwing them on the ground and stomping on them. “This? This? You think…oh my fucking gods. Give me your damn phone before we’re both fucking kidnapped.”
“No. Explain. What the hell is going on? I read those papers, same as you. It has your signature on it. It’s a mating contract, Fable. Made way before we ever ‘rescued’ you.
“The whole thing was staged. You were sitting in that rotting house, waiting for us to show up so you could clean us out and bring all our assets to your chosen pack. Sorry to interrupt your plans, but you won’t get a fucking dime out of my pack from this moment on.”
Eyes darting around, she takes off, sprinting the way we came; towards people and shops.
“Where the hell are you going? You can’t fucking outrun your mistakes, Fable! I’m sorry if you grew to actually like my pack, but they’re never going to— hey! Get off of her!”
A huge alpha jumps from behind nowhere and grabs Fable, tackling her to the ground. He punches her in the face as she struggles against him, then grabs her hands, trying to get her to submit. I’m confused because this is not at all what we all agreed on when I contacted Pack Asher.