34. Hailey
Chapter 34
Hailey
S ometimes I still wake up expecting to find myself back in that narrow bed at the facility. The sterile walls, the mechanical beep of monitors, the scent of antiseptic—all so vivid in those first moments of consciousness that I have to press my face into the nearest alpha’s skin and breathe in the familiar scent of pack to banish the phantom memories.
But those moments grow rarer now. This morning, I wake surrounded by my pack, sunlight filtering through the curtains we forgot to close last night. Finn curled against my back, Jax’s arm thrown protectively across both of us, Stone’s solid warmth at our feet, Ren’s quiet breathing from where he sleeps plastered against Finn.
This is real. This is my life now. And the monsters who haunted it are gone.
Six weeks have passed since we watched Caldwell and Heath die on that terrible livestream. Six weeks of slowly, cautiously accepting that the threat hanging over us has truly disappeared. Six weeks of healing into something new. Something whole.
“You’re thinking too loud,” Finn murmurs against my shoulder, his voice sleep-rough and warm. “S’too early for thinking.”
I smile, turning in his arms to face him. “Sorry. Just…appreciating the moment.”
His eyes open fully at that, morning clarity replacing drowsiness as he studies my expression. “Good thoughts?”
“Very good,” I confirm, pressing a light kiss to his lips. “The best.”
He hums contentedly, returning the kiss before tucking my head under his chin. “Then you’re forgiven for the thinking.”
Around us, the others begin to stir. Jax first, then Stone. Ren last and most reluctantly. The familiar choreography of our morning begins: shower negotiations (who gets to share with me and Finn), breakfast preparations (Finn insisting that proper coffee requires patience as Jax impatiently watches the pour-over drip), clothing decisions (Stone selecting identical Henleys from his wardrobe while the rest of us tease him about his limited palette).
“We need to go shopping,” Finn announces over breakfast, eyeing Stone’s outfit with exaggerated disappointment. “Stone needs a color intervention, and I need those new copper mixing bowls that just came out.”
“I don’t need more clothes,” Stone protests mildly, unbothered by the criticism. “I like my clothes.”
“We could all use a day out,” Jax interjects before the friendly bickering can escalate. “It’s been too long since we’ve done something normal together.”
“Define ‘normal,’” Ren drawls, nursing his second coffee with the intensity of someone still half-asleep. “Because shopping with Finn is many things, but ‘normal’ isn’t one of them.”
Finn throws a blueberry at him, which Ren catches with surprising dexterity despite looking half-asleep. “You love my shopping expertise. Who found those absurdly overpriced sheets you slept with for over a year?”
“Good point,” Ren concedes, popping the blueberry into his mouth. “They were worth every penny.”
“Mall or downtown?” Jax asks, already reaching for his phone to make a plan. Always the alpha, always organizing, though with a lighter touch these days.
“Downtown,” Finn and I say simultaneously, then exchange grins.
“There’s that new housewares store I’ve been wanting to visit,” Finn explains.
“And I saw online that there’s this new omega shop that opened,” I add, a blush coloring my cheeks. The shop sells anything from candles, bath oils, to lingerie. And I’ve developed a mild addiction to lingerie since learning how much the alphas enjoy seeing me wear them. (Or removing them, more accurately.)
The decision made, we finish breakfast and prepare for our outing with the easy coordination of a pack that’s found its rhythm. No more glancing over our shoulders, scared of who might attack from the shadows. Today, we’re just five people heading out for a day of shopping and connection. It’s ordinary…and I love it.
Downtown bustles with weekend energy. Packs strolling hand in hand, groups of friends laughing outside cafes. We blend into this tapestry of normal life. The notoriety from my press conference has basically faded.
Our first stop is the shop I wanted to visit, where the bell above the door chimes softly as we enter. The shop is a sensory haven—gentle lighting, soft music, shelves arranged with artful care to display products that appeal specifically to omega senses without overwhelming them.
“I’ll be over here,” Finn announces immediately, making a beeline for the homeware section where scented candles and diffusers line rustic wooden shelves.
The alphas hover uncertainly near the entrance, clearly out of their element in this omega-centered space. I hide my smile at their discomfort, knowing it will pass once they’ve adjusted to the concentrated scents and purposefully calming atmosphere.
“Feel free to look around,” I encourage them. “They have an alpha section in the back corner.”
“There’s an alpha section?” Jax asks, perking up slightly.
“With things designed to complement omega scents,” I confirm. “Apparently we smell even better with the right preparations.”
That’s all the incentive they need. I watch with amusement as they make their way through the store, trying to appear casual while clearly cataloging everything that catches their interest. Ren examines a display of massage oils with scientific curiosity, reading ingredients with focused attention. Stone drifts toward leather goods—journals, wallets, wristbands infused with subtle scent-enhancing properties. Jax, predictably, finds the most expensive items in the store—a collection of rare imported essence blends.
I pause, watching them. This is my life now? I catch my reflection in the mirror and just like that first moment when I saw myself after six years of not even knowing what I looked like anymore, I see a new me. Bold, happy, confident Hailey.
Smiling, I turn away from the mirror.
There’s no rush. I can browse leisurely, enjoying the simple pleasure of just a normal day out. A type of day I wouldn’t have imagined having back at the Academy. A midnight-blue scarf catches my eye, the silk shot through with silver threads that catch the light. I lift it from the display, running it through my fingers to test its texture.
“That would look…” comes Jax’s voice from behind me, low and appreciative. “…beautiful on you.”
I turn to find him standing closer than I expected, his gaze warm with more than simple fashion approval. “You think so?”
“Definitely.” He reaches out, taking the scarf from my hands and draping it around my neck, his fingers lingering on my sensitive skin. “Perfect.”
The casual touch sends a pleasant shiver down my spine. Without being able to help it, I lean slightly into his space, inhaling the complementary blend of his natural alpha scent with something new—one of the scent samples from the alpha section, I realize.
“You tried something.” I tilt my head to better capture the scent. “Cedar and…something spicy?”
“Cardamom,” he confirms, looking pleased that I noticed. “Do you like it?”
“Very much.” I step closer to adjust the scarf but really to press briefly against him, gratified when his pupils dilate in response. “It makes me want to get much closer.”
Jax bites his lower lip. His hand settles at my waist, warm and possessive even through my sweater. “That can be arranged. Later.”
The promise in his voice sends heat pooling low in my belly. This, too, is new. I can flirt and tease without fear shadowing every interaction. I can want openly. I can expect pleasure without bracing for pain.
Across the store, I notice Stone has discovered the candle section where Finn is currently sniffing his way through every option. The sight of my largest, most intimidating alpha holding a delicate lavender candle to his nose with surprising delicacy makes me smile. When he catches Finn’s wrist to guide a particular scent closer for inspection, the casual intimacy between them warms me from the inside out.
Even Ren has abandoned his scientific assessment in favor of more sensual explorations, testing a mint-infused wrist cuff against his skin while covertly watching my interaction with Jax. When our eyes meet, he doesn’t look away—just lifts one eyebrow in silent acknowledgment of the current running between all of us.
We leave the store forty minutes later. Finn clutches his prize—a set of beeswax candles hand-poured by an omega artisan—while I adjust my new scarf around my neck. The alphas carry the heavier bags, looking surprisingly content for three men who just spent a fortune.
“Kitchen store next?” Finn suggests, already plotting our route through the streets.
“Lead the way,” Jax agrees, his hand finding mine as we navigate the weekend crowds.
The next two hours pass in a pleasant blur of storefronts and purchases. Finn finds his copper mixing bowls (plus three additional kitchen tools none of us understand the purpose of), Stone reluctantly allows himself to be convinced into purchasing a dark green shirt that’s not a Henley, and Ren discovers an antique bookshop that nearly requires forcible extraction when we’re ready to move on.
By early afternoon, hunger drives us toward the small coffee shop. The familiar bell jingles as Jax holds the door, ushering us into the scent of fresh coffee and baked goods.
“Our usual table is open,” Stone observes, already moving toward the corner booth that offers the best sightlines and privacy.
We settle in, bags arranged at our feet, the pleasant fatigue of a successful shopping excursion making the worn leather seats feel particularly welcoming. A server approaches with menus. Orders are placed.
As the server walks away, Finn leans forward. “So, who’s going to admit they spent more at the omega shop than they planned to?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Ren replies. But his dignity is completely undermined by the small bag tucked carefully at his side.
“The receipt is literally sticking out of your pocket,” Finn points out. “What’d you get? Those massage oils you were fondling?”
A rare flush colors Ren’s cheeks. “I was…just looking at the ingredients.”
“Uh-huh. For like twenty minutes.”
“Some of us appreciate thoroughness,” Ren counters, recovering his composure enough to infuse the word with suggestive undertones that make my cheeks warm.
“I saw Stone sniffing candles,” I whisper. It’s nice being able to tease someone, too.
Stone shrugs, not even slightly embarrassed. “They smelled good. Some reminded me of the garden.”
“And some reminded you of me,” Finn adds smugly. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you matching candle scents to my neck.”
“Guilty,” Stone admits with such straightforward honesty that Finn deflates slightly, robbed of the pleasure of further teasing.
“You’re no fun to tease when you just admit things,” he complains.
“I know.” Stone’s lips quirk, his version of a satisfied smirk.
Our drinks arrive and we dig in.
“We should invite the Ashgraves for dinner next weekend,” Finn suggests as he demolishes a pain au chocolat with impressive focus. “I want to try that new recipe I found, and they’ll appreciate it more than you philistines.”
“We appreciate your cooking,” Jax protests.
“You inhale it without noticing half the flavors,” Finn counters. “I bet the Ashgraves actually know what cardamom is.”
“I know what cardamom is,” Jax interjects. “I’ve been wearing it all morning.”
This prompts another round of good-natured bickering. I sit back, sipping my hot chocolate and absorbing the moment—the easy laughter, the casual affection, the complete absence of fear that for so long underscored my entire life.
This is what normal feels like. This is what I fought for. Something simple like sitting in a coffee shop with my pack, discussing dinner plans and teasing each other about scented candles, with no shadows hanging over us.
“You okay?” Stone asks quietly, his keen observation missing nothing. “You went somewhere for a minute.”
I smile, touched that he even noticed. “I’m perfect. Just…happy. Really happy.”
His expression softens in understanding. “Good.”
The drive home is unhurried. Ren takes the wheel like he often does now. Our house comes into view with its familiar lines and welcoming presence. The garden Stone extended for Finn is flourishing, the plants visible even before we reach the end of the drive. This place…has become truly home in ways no previous dwelling ever managed to be.
Jax unlocks the door, holding it open for the rest of us to file inside with our packages. The familiar scents of home envelop us, and I’m ready to change into something comfortable and curl up with Finn. Maybe we’ll watch something. I hear there’s a new season of that reality show he loves. I’m getting addicted to them too.
“I’m putting these away before Finn decides they need to be washed immediately,” Stone announces, heading toward the stairs with his clothing purchases.
“They absolutely do need washing!” Finn calls after him. “You have no idea who tried them on before you!”
“I’ll help with the rest,” Ren offers, gathering bags from where I’ve set them near the entry.
“Thanks,” I say, stretching tired shoulders. “I’m going to get some water then change. Shopping is surprisingly exhausting.”
“It’s the decision fatigue,” Jax explains, following me toward the kitchen. “Too many choices in too short a time.”
“You might be right.” I fill a glass from the filtered tap, then lean against the counter to drink it, enjoying the cool relief.
Jax moves into my space with casual confidence, hands settling at my waist, body crowding me gently against the counter. “Did you enjoy today?” he asks, voice dropping to the lower register that never fails to send shivers along my spine.
“Very much,” I nod, setting my glass aside to loop my arms around his neck. “It felt…”
“Normal?” he supplies.
“Yes. Wonderfully, perfectly normal.”
He smiles, the expression crinkling the corners of his eyes in a way that makes my heart skip. “I like seeing you happy, Hailey. Relaxed. Safe.”
“I like feeling that way,” I admit, rising on tiptoes to press a kiss to his jaw. “And I especially like having all day to think about what might happen when we got home.”
His hands tighten at my waist, a low rumble of approval vibrating through his chest. “Is that so?”
“Mmhmm.” I let my lips trail to his ear, gratified when his breathing quickens slightly. “I was thinking about that new massage oil Ren bought. And how we have the whole afternoon free.”
Jax makes a sound suspiciously close to a growl, lifting me effortlessly onto the counter to better align our bodies. His mouth finds mine in a kiss that starts gentle but quickly evolves into something hungrier, his hands sliding beneath my sweater to trace warm patterns against my skin.
I respond eagerly, wrapping my legs around his waist to draw him closer, reveling in the freedom to want without reservation.
His lips trail down my throat, pausing at the hollow where my pulse beats visibly beneath thin skin. “The couch? The nest? Here on the kitchen counter?” he murmurs against sensitive flesh.
“Yes,” I respond breathlessly. “Here is good.”
A throat clears from the doorway, interrupting what was quickly developing into something inappropriate for kitchen surfaces. We look up to find Stone watching us with equal parts amusement and interest.
“There’s mail,” he says, holding up a small stack. “And while I fully support wherever this is heading, you might want to move it upstairs before Finn returns and lectures you about proper kitchen hygiene.”
Jax laughs, stepping back enough to help me down from the counter but keeping an arm around my waist. “Fair point. What mail? Anything important?”
Stone shuffles through the envelopes. “Bills. Advertisement.” He pauses at a plain white envelope, studying it with a slight frown. “And this. No return address, but it went to one of our gyms and they forwarded it here. It’s addressed to Hailey.”
A small shiver of unease disrupts my contentment as Stone hands me the envelope. It’s unremarkable—standard size, my name printed in neat block letters. Probably nothing concerning. A thank you note from one of the omegas I’ve been working with at the rehabilitation center, perhaps, or information about the support group I joined.
But something about it feels wrong.
I slide my finger beneath the flap, tearing it open with mounting apprehension. Inside is a single sheet of paper, folded once. When I unfold it, the few lines of text almost cause me to stagger.
“ We saw the news. You’re alive. Come settle your debts. Friday, 7 pm, Jim’s Diner downtown. Come alone or not at all. ”
No signature. None needed. Jim’s Diner…I remember that place. It’s where my…my Ma used to work…
“Hailey?” Jax’s voice seems to come from very far away. “What is it? You’ve gone pale.”
I can’t speak, can only hold out the letter with fingers that have begun to tremble slightly. Jax takes it, his expression darkening as he reads the brief message. Stone moves closer, reading over his shoulder, his body tensing with each word.
“What the hell?” Jax says softly, the controlled anger in his voice more frightening than a shout would be. “Who the hell sent this?”
“My…my mother.” The words drop like leaden weights. “Has to be. No one else would—No one else would know about that diner. No one else would—” I break off, unsure how to continue. No one else would what? Consider me in debt to them? Have the audacity to demand a meeting after what they did? Phrase a request with such cold entitlement?
“What’s happening?” Finn appears in the doorway, immediately sensing the shift in mood. “Why does everyone look like they’re plotting murder?”
Stone wordlessly hands him the letter. Ren joins us moments later, drawn by the sudden tension resonating through pack bonds. By the time both have read the message, the kitchen vibrates with barely contained rage, their protective instincts in full flare.
“Absolutely not,” Ren states flatly. “You’re not meeting with them.”
“They have no right,” Finn adds, his usual softness replaced by hardness. “No right to contact you, to demand anything, to even acknowledge your existence after what they did.”
“How did they even find you?” Stone asks, practical even in anger. “Your location has been kept private.”
“They dropped it off at the gym,” Jax says. “That means they know she’s Ironwood, and that we’ve claimed her, but they don’t know exactly where she lives. That’s why there’s no return address on this envelope—it was dropped off in person.”
The realization that my parents don’t know where I actually live provides a small measure of relief, quickly overwhelmed by the larger implications of their contact. After years of doing nothing to save me, after selling me like property, after everything that’s happened, now they reach out ? Not with apology or explanation, but with a demand.
“I’ll go,” I hear myself say, the words forming before conscious decision.
“What? No!” Finn’s protest is immediate and vehement. “After what they did to you? They sold you, Hailey. To traffickers .”
“I know what they did.” My voice sounds calmer than I feel, a strange detachment settling over me as I reclaim the letter from Jax’s hand. “That’s why I need to go. To finish this. To close this last open door.”
The alphas exchange glances, a silent communication passing between them that I’ve learned to recognize—assessment, strategy, protective calculation.
“Not alone,” Jax says finally, not a request but a statement of fact. “We’ll be there.”
“If they see you, they won’t show,” I point out. “You read the note. ‘Come alone or not at all.’”
“Fuck that.” Stone frowns. “We’ll be in the diner, but not with you. Close enough to intervene if needed.”
I consider arguing further, insisting on handling this final confrontation truly alone, but the determined expressions surrounding me make it clear this is a non-negotiable point. And truthfully, I’m grateful. The thought of facing my parents without my pack’s strength supporting me makes my stomach clench with a fear I thought I’d moved beyond.
“Okay,” I whisper, hating that my voice has gotten small again. “But you let me handle it. No matter what they say, what they do.”
“Agreed,” Ren says after a moment, speaking for all of them. “Your lead, our backup.”
“Friday,” Finn notes, checking his phone for the date. “That’s tomorrow.”
“Good,” I say, surprised by the certainty I feel. “I don’t want this hanging over us any longer than necessary.”
The easy joy of our shopping day has evaporated, replaced by a familiar tension I’d hoped was behind us. But as I look around at my pack, at the four faces watching me with unwavering support and fierce protection, I find my resolve strengthening rather than wavering.
This is the final piece, the last lingering connection to my old life that needs addressing.
“We’ll be ready,” Jax assures me, pulling me into a protective embrace that the others quickly join, surrounding me with pack scent and solidity. “Whatever you need from us, however you want to handle this, we’re with you.”
Within that circle of unwavering support, I feel my momentary fear transforming into something stronger, more determined. I’ve faced Heath and survived. I’ve testified before cameras and emerged stronger. I’ve watched my captors die and found peace in the aftermath.
I can face my parents. I can finish this last chapter and close the book for good.
“Thank you,” I say simply, looking around at the four people who have become my real family, my true pack, my home in every sense that matters. “For everything.”