Chapter Fifteen – Jess
I’m sitting in the middle of the overly-large bed in the designated heat room, AKA my temporary bedroom, when I hear a knock on the door. I don’t know how long it’s been, but I’m in no mood to talk to anyone right now, especially Rourke.
I can’t tell who it is on the other side of that door—my money’s split between Asher and Rourke—so I yell, “Go away.”
Of course, whoever it is doesn’t go away, though I suppose it could be because he can’t hear me through the door. The door is thicker than a normal door, built to help soundproof this particular room.
So he comes in without being invited, and I immediately see it’s Rourke. Of freaking course.
Even though I don’t want to, I sit a little straighter on the bed as I send him a frown. “I said go away, in case you didn’t hear me.” I’m pretty damn sure my tone is acidic, but you’d never know it by looking at Rourke’s face.
“I figured that’s what you said.” He shrugs as he walks around the room, studying it.
“A heat room. Nice. This’ll help, definitely.
” He makes it all the way to the attached bathroom, which he then pokes his head in.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a tub that big before. Wonder how long it takes to fill up?”
I sit cross-legged and wait for him to stop messing around and get to the point.
After a few moments, he does just that. He abandons his examination of the room and the adjoining bathroom and walks toward me, though he does not dare touch the bed I currently sit on.
His blue gaze is warm yet serious when he turns that scrutiny to me. “Look, I know what I said at dinner might’ve been—”
“I’m going to stop you right there. I don’t care about an apology or whatever it is you feel like you have to tell me. I didn’t come here to make nice with you—in fact, I thought I’d never see you again, and I was totally fine with that.”
“Were you?” Rourke folds his arms over his chest, and even though the sleeves of his outfit are pulled down to his wrists, the fabric becomes so tight over those biceps I can’t help but notice the bulging.
I chuckle at the audacity of this jerk, but the sound doesn’t quite land, because in reality, he’s not a jerk, and I feel odd sitting on a bed while beneath his sapphire stare. “Does that surprise you? Are you sad I wasn’t pining over you?”
“I don’t think you’re someone who pines” is his reply. “But I’d be lying if I told you I wouldn’t like it.” Before I can say anything else, he goes on, “Just listen to what I have to say, and then I’ll leave you alone, I promise.”
“Fine,” I mutter. “You have the floor.”
“Regardless of what may or may not be between us, your safety is my number one priority. I told this to Asher after his brother stormed off, but I want to say it to you, too, so we’re all on the same page.
If one of them should prove they can’t handle being around you when the time comes, I’ll do whatever I have to in order to make sure you’re safe and they’re not a threat to you. ”
His curt way of putting it makes my stomach twist in a weird way. “I don’t think they’d be a threat—”
“Maybe not physically. Maybe even, at the time, you’d want whatever they could give you.
Maybe you’d be begging for it. When the time comes, you won’t be in your right mind.
You know this. It might just hurt enough, drive you crazy enough, you’ll throw away your goal of financial stability to get some relief. ”
My cheeks threaten to flush, and I hope I’m not obvious about it. “I don’t think that would happen. Not that you need to know, but I brought everything a girl could need for her heat. An omega doesn’t need a real knot.”
Ooh, boy. That’s not something I’ve ever said out loud before. Here comes the heat on my face.
He smirks, and I hate how that smirk is strong enough to send me tumbling off a cliff. Let’s just say it’s a darn good thing I’m already sitting on the bed, otherwise my knees would definitely be too weak to support me.
“I can imagine you thought of it all,” he says, still giving me that blasted smirk. If he’s not careful, that stupid smirk might just set my panties ablaze, and by ablaze, I mean…
You know what I mean.
“Still,” Rourke goes on, “if the worse comes to worst, I’ll have no choice but to take you out of here.”
“That won’t happen. It won’t be necessary. I trust them.” The words are out of me before I can stop them. I trust them. Do I? Asher hurt me all those years ago, and I don’t really know Mason all too well. How can I say I trust them?
But I do. Somehow, someway, I do trust them. I’m not lying. It’s a strange, murky thing, crazy for me to admit, but I trust them, just like I trust Rourke.
What’s wrong with me?
Finally, that smirk falls off his face, and the expression he gives me is one of pure seriousness. I hate how he’s just as nice to look at when he’s in full serious mode. “They seem like decent enough people. I just…” His deep voice drops an octave or two when he finishes, “I’m worried about you.”
My breath catches in the back of my throat, like my lungs suddenly don’t work. I’m sitting there, staring up at Rourke, my thoughts racing a thousand miles a minute. I can barely think. Heck, I can barely sit there and act like everything is fine.
“Why?” The word nearly gets caught in my throat, just like my breath. Why is he worried about me? The way he said it, it doesn’t make me think he’s simply worried about me because I’m his current job. No, there was an additional weight to that statement, something that makes me feel so… so…
So confused.
So happy.
So content.
An almost pained look crosses his handsome face, but it’s gone by the time I blink, replaced by a calmness that must mask what he’s really feeling.
“Maybe you don’t think a lot of the alphas at the Omega Garden, but I promise, we’re not all bad.
I worry about you, just like I’d worry about any other omega in a situation that might turn sticky at any moment. ”
Though that’s what he says, though he wears a quiet countenance as he says it, I don’t quite believe him. I don’t think that’s why he’s worried about me, why he cares so much about what happens to me.
But I don’t push him on it, so when he turns to leave my room, I let him go.
I don’t stop him. I do, however, watch him as he leaves, and once he’s gone and I’m alone, I swallow hard.
It’s like that breath that caught in my throat can finally exhale, and I let out the largest sigh any pair of lungs could heave.
What the heck was that about? Why do I feel so ill at ease? His concern should flatter me, but I know there’s more to it—and it’s that unspoken more that fills me with trepidation and something else.
That pain I felt when Rourke left my table at the Omega Garden? I feel something similar now that I’m alone. Deep inside of me, my heart actually hurts.
It’s not so much of a pain as it is more of an uncomfortable tightness threatening to burst the bodily organ. Even deeper inside, I know the only way to fix said uncomfortableness would be to run after him and do things I definitely shouldn’t want to do with an alpha who’s a stranger to me.
Rourke is a stranger, just like Asher and Mason, and yet at the same time, the word stranger doesn’t fit any of them.
I let out a groan as I fall backwards, bouncing on the bed somewhat. I stare at the ceiling and breathe hard as I wonder why I have to be like this, why things can’t just be normal for me.
Oh, wait. I know. It’s because my life sucks and nothing can ever be normal or fine.
Rourke mentioned that I don’t feel safe living with my aunt.
I never thought about it like that before.
I’ve always acted out and hated being in the same room as her, but I thought…
I don’t know, I guess I thought that was normal.
All the cruel things she’s said to me over the years, all of the snide, cold comments that no guardian should ever say to their ward…
Maybe Rourke was right. Maybe, even though I was unaware, I didn’t feel safe there.
All these years my aunt should’ve helped me feel at home in my own skin, but instead she always reminded me that I was broken and incomplete.
She and my uncle took me to countless doctors to try to fix the whole issue of losing my sense of smell, but not once did she ever push to take me to a therapist so that I could work through my trauma.
Did she constantly tear me down to try to control me? Did my aunt never take me to a therapist because she thought I’d be easier to manipulate if I was broken?
Whatever. I don’t want to think about my aunt right now, and I definitely don’t want to think about the past.
That means, as the night wears on, my mind only has a few other choices to settle on. I shower, get ready for bed, and tuck myself in, and as the night deepens, I let my mind think about the alphas in this house.
Asher and his willingness to help me in spite of our past; Mason and his not-so-quiet standoffishness that doesn’t hit the mark for me; and, of course, Rourke and the way those bright blue eyes seem to stare straight into my soul.
The inexplicable trust I feel toward each of them.
I can’t explain any of it, and I’m not sure I want to.
I’m a Dryers. The last one. If there’s one person out there who’s great at staying in denial, it’s me.
That denial, however, becomes very hard to keep up once sleep finally takes me and I’m thrust into a dream unlike any other dream I’ve ever had, and Rourke, Asher, and Mason all have starring roles.
I’m sitting at a table in the center of the ballroom at the Omega Garden.
I wear a dark blue dress that matches the highlights in my black hair.
My hair is wavy, some of its lengths pinned to the back of my head, while other tendrils cascade downward past my shoulders.
A beautiful diamond necklace clings to my neck, and matching earrings hang on either side of my face.