Chapter 21 #2
“Bite your tongue, woman,” Nathaniel says. “The Wright Pack stays together, through thick and thin and only one bed.”
“Suit yourself. And if you want to hire more people for me, by all means,” I say dryly. “But you know as well as I do that a lot of the timetable is dependent on deliveries, waiting for materials to dry, and Blake’s insistence on so much custom furniture in the family suite.”
“Don’t get me started,” he groans.
“I’d be happy to lend a hand,” I offer. “Made plenty of furniture myself over the years, and it would still be custom.”
Nathaniel’s attention sharpens on me. “I’m not offering to hire you more help so you can cram your free time with more work.”
“It doesn’t feel like work,” I protest. “I enjoy making things.”
“Hmm, well, I’ll bring it up to Blake,” Nathaniel allows, “but he’ll hate keeping you on the island so late, especially since no one is staying with you.”
Heat creeps into my cheeks. “I can always give Jared my keys and bunk down here for a night.”
“None of that.” Nathaniel glares at the mold in the corner that I keep spraying with bleach water. “I wouldn’t let anyone in my pack sleep in this dump, and you’re no exception.”
“I have a shop at my house,” I say slowly.
Auren never liked it when I invited people over, despite how he said the house was ours. The one time I invited Nathaniel and his bondmates over for a cookout, Auren locked me out of his bedroom, and the next day, and it had taken a month of begging for him to allow me back in.
I hadn’t made the same mistake again, and the habit continued after he left. But I broke the rule when Nathaniel’s Omega, Chloe, and their bondmate, Dominic, needed a place to crash a few months back. And now Jared is living with me.
I take a shaky breath. “More than enough space to build some shelves and dressers. Though, hauling it back to the island will be a hassle, I suppose.”
“No, actually, that works. Dominic already had to rent a couple of storage units for all the furniture. He’s part of the problem, too.” Nathaniel sighs. “I swear, we’re going to have to have a rummage sale to offload half the things he’s buying.”
“Sucks to be rich and have a shopper in the pack,” I tease.
“And a builder. Don’t think Blake won’t be pulling up in your driveway with a pile of lumber,” Nathaniel warns as he stands. “I’ll alert Dominic that you’ll be hiring more people.”
“Much obliged.” I sneak another muffin from the container. “And I’ll keep an eye out for the baseboards.”
Nathaniel pauses at the door and turns back to me. “Hiring more people isn’t the limit of what we can do for you. The whole Wright Pack would back you if you asked. Not only for the big stuff, either. Even for the things that don’t show up on the project schedule.”
Before I can respond, he shakes out his jacket and disappears through the door, leaving behind a hint of clove and leather pheromones.
And as I turn back to the punch list, Nathaniel’s words linger.
For so long, I’ve thought I was alone, having to buy my place through acts of service, that I never stopped to look around at those who’ve stuck with me.
But I’ve never been alone. That’s just the story Auren convinced me to believe. I have friends who have been waiting for me to let them in.
Humming, I reach for a third muffin as my phone chimes with a notification. Sure it’s going to be about the baseboard delivery, or an updated punch list from the crew, I reach out for it, only to see Auren’s name on the screen.
Like gawking at a car crash, I can’t stop my thumb from clicking on it, and the post pops up before I can brace for impact.
“Funny how good makeup can hide a bruise. You learn tricks when you have to.” The photo shows his slender wrist at an angle, his skin luminous, with no visible wound.
The comments explode beneath the image.
warm_willow: I’m so sorry you went through this no one deserves that.
fragileflame: Lighting candles for you tonight. Stay strong.
alpha_truthers: Who is that Alpha?? Someone needs to name him. He can’t walk away from this.
mama_bakes_love: Do you need anything?? I can send soup or a care box. Please let us help
didnt_know_really: I never realized how hard it must have been for you… I’m truly sorry
justice4_omegas: This is awful. You’re not alone. We believe you
wildtheory_tom: Look at his face—this wasn’t random. He’s done it before. You can see it.
simone_beauty: Please rest if you can. Let others hold you now. You’ve carried enough
There are fans, old and new, who defend him with an eagerness that curdles my stomach.
As I set the phone down, my hand shakes, and I almost drop it. My first instinct is to call him, or to leave right now and rush to his house to make sure he’s okay.
But that’s not my place anymore.
The muffins I ate turn into a hard ball in my stomach, and my throat closes, the familiar wave of nausea lapping up from deep inside.
I try to focus on my punch list, but the words blur and stutter, and the sound of the rain outside grows louder, every gust shaking the trailer. There’s no air to breathe in here.
It’s not real. Auren knows what he’s doing. He always has. This wouldn’t be the first bruise to garner attention. But it doesn’t stop my knee-jerk reaction.
I brace both hands on the desktop, waiting for the world to steady.