Chapter 19
Lo
Two weeks later
It’s almost over.
Thank God!
I’m done. Done with everything.
I’ve been counting down the days, every second ticking by. Just one more step away from this place, this mess, these people.
Honeysuckle Grove?
Yeah, it was cute when I was a kid, but now? Not so much.
The whole town’s been stuck in a time loop, and I can’t keep pretending it doesn’t feel like I’m suffocating in the nostalgia of it all.
So, I made a plan. I’ve got a job lined up. A charity in the city. Sounds noble, right? That’s because it is. I’m going to tear apart their whole operation from the inside out. Find the embezzlers, expose them, get paid, get gone. That’s the plan. The only plan.
Get the hell out of here and leave all of this behind.
The whispers. The accusations. My family. All of it.
The past few weeks or so have been me just surviving. Surviving out of my car. Surviving through the fire. Surviving through the gossip. Surviving through the instincts. I haven’t spoken to anyone. Not to Beck, not to Hayes, not to Ford. Hell, I’ve barely spoken to Tansy.
It’s going to be hard to leave her behind, to leave everyone behind, but I’ve left myself with no choice. If I don’t go now, then I might be trapped in a place that hates me forever.
But now, I’m at the finish line. Almost.
One more night, and I’m out. The town won’t even know I’m gone until I’m already too far to care.
It’s late. The rain’s pounding hard against the window. That’s how it always starts, isn’t it? A storm. The atmosphere has felt thick with it for a good few days now, and the house creaks under the pressure as if it’s about to fall in on me.
Doesn’t matter, though.
I’ll be out of here soon enough.
Back to doing the one thing that makes any of this worth it: exposing those who take advantage of others.
I’m sitting on the bed, blanket wrapped around me in a cocoon, hoping maybe I’ll just fall asleep through the whole thing and wake up with a one-way ticket out of town in my hand. But that’s not how my life works. It never has been.
That’s when I hear it.
A noise that doesn’t belong.
Not rain. Not wind.
Something else.
A soft, wet slap against the floorboards, like the storm has somehow gotten inside the house.
Oh, no. No, no, no.
I stand up, the blanket slipping off my shoulders as I stumble downstairs to the source of the noise. I can’t see anything at first, just the dim glow of the lamplight casting shadows across the room.
But then I spot it.
The water, creeping across the floor in little waves, dark and slick, pushing into the corners way too quickly for my liking.
Shit.
My heart kicks into overdrive, and I’m already moving before my brain can even process.
The storm’s trying to drown me in my own house.
My feet are wet before I even get to the hallway.
There’s more water. It’s all over the place—the kind of water you don’t see until it’s already too late.
It’s creeping in from under the doorframe, too.
The smell of damp wood hits me with a punch to the gut.
Oh, god. Not now. Please.
I don’t even know where to start. My head’s a mess, heart racing, hands shaking. This is what happens when you try to cut corners. You skip a few repairs. You pretend things are fine. But the truth is, nothing is fine.
Nothing was ever fine.
The floodwater’s rising faster than I can even think.
There’s no stopping it now. I grab a towel from the kitchen, but I might as well be mopping up the ocean with a dish rag.
I’m useless, completely useless. My stomach churns with the realization that this is happening, that I’m not prepared for it, and that I never wanted to be here in the first place.
I need help.
I pull my phone out of my pocket, my hands shaking slightly, and dial Tansy’s number. The phone rings, each chime loud like a countdown to the chaos waiting to unfold. She picks up after the third ring, as if I haven’t been MIA for the past two weeks.
There’s way too much shock and excitement in her voice.
“Hey, Lo! What’s up?”
I try to sound casual, but my words come out rushed, frantic. “Tansy, I… look, I need your help. My house is flooding.”
There’s a sharp intake of breath on the other end, and I can hear her moving around. “What? How? Is it the pipes? What happened?”
“It’s… it’s the fire damage. I don’t even know how it started. The storm must have pushed something over the edge. The water’s coming in from everywhere, and I can’t fix it on my own. I don’t know what to do.”
There’s a brief pause, then she softens, more serious now. “Okay, okay. I’ve got you. I’ll send someone over to help.”
“I don’t want my parents to ever find out that I’ve been here, Tee. They’ll—”
She doesn’t let me finish. “Lo, it’s fine. I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry. I’ll send someone over to help you.”
My stomach flips. I don’t want anyone here. But what else can I do?
“I’ll get good people to help you. I promise. Just stay put and breathe.”
Then she’s gone, and my pulse is pounding erratically, my anxiety crushing me the way it always seems to as of late. What a freaking nightmare.
To make it worse, it doesn’t take long before there’s a knock at the door, and I freeze. My heart drops straight to my stomach as a sudden feeling of dread rushes over me.
I drag my feet across the floor, one step, then another, but my legs feel heavy as lead. When I reach the door, I hesitate, my hand hovering over the doorknob. Part of me wants to pretend I didn’t hear it, pretend this isn’t happening. But I’m already in this mess. It’s too late to back out now.
I swing the door open.
And there they are.
Beck, Ford, and Hayes.
The three men I’ve been trying to avoid most of all.
Why the hell has Tansy done this to me?
The entire damn pack stands on my front step, soaked from the storm, staring back at me with varying degrees of concern and confusion written on their faces.
For a moment, I just blink at them, stunned into silence.
“Lo?” Beck asks curiously. “Tansy called. Said you needed help?”
I swallow hard, trying to catch my breath. I don’t want them here. I didn’t want anyone here, but definitely not them. I can feel my pulse pounding in my throat, the sharpness of my panic mixing with something I’m trying hard not to acknowledge.
Of all people, why them?
And why the hell did Tansy think sending them was a good idea?
Ford shifts on his feet, his eyes scanning the dim hallway behind me, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his rain jacket.
“Is everything alright?” he asks, and even though his tone is calm, there’s an undercurrent of worry there.
“Tansy said there’s a flood? What happened?” Hayes’s gaze flickers to my face, and I can see him trying to piece things together. “What’s going on?”
They’re all here. And I’m completely, utterly screwed.
I force a smile that could crack right off my face. “It’s just… It’s fine. Really. I didn’t think it would get this bad. The storm has caused a bit of a flood. There’s water, obviously.” My tone is too high-pitched. I know it. “But it’s nothing I can’t handle.”
Beck’s brows furrow, and his eyes flicker with the frustration I know all too well.
“Lo.” He says my name like a rumble. Like a warning. “Let us at least take a look.”
I want to shut the door. I want to slam it and pretend I’m alone, that I can fix this myself.
But the water’s still creeping behind me, still rising with that steady sound of trickling and dripping, and I can’t keep up.
They’re here, standing in front of me, and I can feel the pressure building.
My pulse races at a blinding speed as the tension between all four of us thickens.
I open my mouth to protest, but the words die on my tongue. I can’t push them away. Not now. And I’m not stupid enough to pretend I can handle this on my own.
And then, there’s the other thing.
The thing that has nothing to do with the flood and everything to do with them.
It’s a sudden shock to the system. Their presence.
They’re not just standing in the doorway anymore.
They’re in the space with me, and I feel it.
The sharp, clean musk of Ford hits me first, followed by the deeper, more grounded undertone of Beck, a scent that makes the room feel warmer, more enclosed.
And then Hayes… his Beta scent, lighter but comforting, a perfect blend of something almost sweet with the subtle tang of leather and outdoors.
All pulling my Omega instincts to the surface like a magnet dragging iron shavings.
My skin tingles, my heart pounds, and it’s hard to breathe, to think clearly.
“Lo?” Beck cuts through the chaos in my head. He’s the first to step forward, his expression a mixture of concern and something else I can’t quite place. “Let us help. Please.”
That takes me by surprise.
I’m not sure I’ve ever heard Beck use that word before.
Do Alphas use the word “please”?
He certainly doesn’t.
I swallow hard, forcing myself to step back from the door, feeling the wet cold of the wood beneath my feet. My body rebels, instinctively wanting to pull away, wanting to retreat to a safer, quieter place.
But I can’t.
Not when this is happening right in front of me.
The space between us feels… charged. I can feel Hayes’s gaze on me, sharp and searching. He’s trying to read me, I know it. And Ford, standing slightly behind him, is scanning the room, preparing to take control of whatever mess I’ve gotten myself into.
It’s too much. Too fast.
But I nod and step aside regardless.
Beck steps past me, his broad shoulders filling the doorway as his gaze sweeps over the damage.
The tension in the room becomes a little less suffocating, but the strength of his presence is unmistakable.
His hand brushes the back of my shoulder as he moves into the hallway, the subtle contact sending a wave of heat down my spine.
My Omega reacts to him without warning—a sharp, jarring jolt that makes my heart race. I can’t seem to stop it.
I feel the sharp tug of something primal deep inside me, drawing me toward him in a way I can’t quite control.
It’s not just the heat of his touch. It’s the quiet assertion in it, the way he doesn’t even have to look at me for my body to bend to the pull of his dominance.
I swallow hard, trying to steady myself, but the warmth in my chest is still spreading, and it’s all I can focus on.
“You can’t stay here tonight, Lo,” Beck tells me. I blink, my mind scrambling to catch up with what he’s saying. “It’s no good. If water is getting in like this, it means the fire destabilized something foundationally.”
I open my mouth to protest, to tell him I’m fine, that I don’t need to rely on anyone. But the words die on my lips. The storm’s still raging outside, the house is still taking on water, and I’m standing here, helpless.
Ugh, I hate this.
I hate feeling helpless.
Ford is already at the doorway to the kitchen, his gaze focused as he looks around. He doesn’t say much, but when he looks at me, there’s an intensity behind his eyes that stirs something deep inside me. He’s waiting for me to make the decision, to acknowledge what we all know is coming.
Hayes, ever the silent observer, watches me carefully, as if he’s studying my every move. His presence looms larger than it should in such a small room. Especially for a Beta. I feel his energy like a wave crashing over me, as if to say, “Yes, we’re here, and we’re not going anywhere.”
“It’s only for tonight,” I mutter. “I’ll be okay.”
“You can stay with us,” Ford insists before I can get another word in. “Me and Hayes. We have a spare room.”
“I don’t want to be a burden,” I murmur, barely above a whisper.
It’s hard to look any of them in the eye, especially when I know how vulnerable I feel in this moment. But Beck’s gaze is steady, his expression softening as he steps toward me.
“You’re not a burden, Lo,” Beck says, his words filled with an edge of protectiveness that I can’t ignore. “Never have been. But you can’t stay here. Not with the flood, and not with… everything else. And I’ll drive.”
Oh God.
This is not how I thought my last day here would go.