Chapter 29 #2
My instincts scream for relief, for the comfort of my pack, my Alphas. For once, I want to run, but not away. I want to run toward them. Toward their embraces. Toward their scents. Toward their safety.
The scent of my parents’ anger and disappointment is suffocating, and I can’t breathe without the sharp tang of it swirling around me.
I know Beck will feel it, feel the desperation rolling off me in waves. It’s as if I can already sense him, the bond between us tugging at the back of my mind. The thought of him, of his presence, grounds me slightly, but it’s not enough to push back the rising panic.
“You should leave,” Mom finally says, her words cold as ice. “This town has already done enough damage to us. You don’t belong here. You should just go.”
Dad leans forward, his eyes narrowing. “She’s right. You came back here looking for something that doesn’t exist anymore. You need to go back to whatever noble mission you think you’re on.”
The words hit me hard as a freight train. The ones that have been echoing in my head for years, but now they’re out in the open, sharp and brutal.
You don’t belong here.
Despite the tug of my Alphas in my chest and the back of my head, every breath is harder to take.
I want to scream, to throw something, to make them understand the pain of all the years I’ve spent trying to escape them.
Trying to escape their mess. But my throat is tight, and the words won’t come out.
I hate that my anxiety robs me of my words.
I blink hard, swallowing back the tears that sting at the corners of my eyes.
I won’t let them see me break. Not after everything they’ve done.
I stand up slowly, my chair scraping loudly against the floor.
My body is shaking, and I know they can see it, but I don’t care.
I’m done with this. I’m done trying to justify myself to them.
“No,” I say, fighting the tremble in my words.
“You’re right. This town is a hellhole to you.
But it’s your hell. You made it. You, and your lies, and your greed.
I didn’t make it this way. And you can’t just sit here and pretend you haven’t ruined everything.
Pretend like you haven’t ruined me. Like you haven’t splintered me into sections I keep running from because God forbid I be lumped into the bullshit that is the two of you. ”
I can feel their eyes on me, cold and calculating. But I don’t back down. I feel the warmth of their disapproval radiating across the table, pushing against me as a physical force, but I stand my ground.
My hands clench into fists at my sides. My heart pounds with a fury that threatens to drown out everything around me. It’s so loud in my ears, but I push it down. I have to be stronger than this.
My father draws in a breath to speak, but I beat him to it.
“Don’t,” I mutter through gritted teeth. “Don’t you dare try and blame me for everything you’ve ruined. I’m not going to sit here and let you twist the truth to make it easier for you to sleep at night.”
They don’t say anything at first. They just look at me, their eyes narrowing. I don’t care, though. I’m done.
I want to go home to my pack.
I sigh heavily, trying to find any way to alleviate the pressure in my chest. “I know I wasn’t right to stay in the townhouse without telling you, but I was struggling.
I’ve had stuff going on in my life that you know nothing about because you don’t care about anything other than yourselves.
I needed help, and I don’t have you for that. ”
The moment the words leave my mouth, I know I’ve crossed a line. Mom’s eyes flash, and I can feel the temperature in the room drop by several degrees.
“Struggling?” she echoes, her words sharp as a blade. “Oh, you think you’re the only one who’s struggled?” Her laugh is a cold, humorless thing. “That’s what happens when you run off and abandon your family, Louisa. You don’t get to pin that on us.”
The sting of her words hits hard. My hands shake at my sides, and for a second, I’m sure I might burst into flames.
“You think I wanted this?” I snap. “I didn’t want any of this. I didn’t want to leave. I didn’t want to be embarrassed. I didn’t want my name to mean something filthy. But you left me no choice when you decided that robbing this town blind for your own greedy wishes was more important than—”
Mom slams her hand against the table, the sound echoing through the café, loud as a gunshot. “Don’t you dare talk to me like that, Louisa Mae. You’re the one who ruined your own life. Don’t you dare think for one second that we’re the ones responsible for your failures.”
Dad’s eyes go cold as ice. He stands up, towering over me. “You’re still acting like you’re the victim. You think we owe you something? That’s the problem with you, Lo. You always think you’re entitled to everything. Well, you’re not. You need to get out of here. Out of this town, for good.”
I’m drowning, the air suffocating as the tension crackles between us, sharper than anything I’ve ever known. The sting of their words cuts deeper than any accusation I’ve heard before, each one a jagged shard of glass scraping at my soul.
I wish my dad loved me.
I wish my family loved me.
I wish I wasn’t a Marsh.
Mom slams her hand against the table again, and it’s a slap to my face even as it jolts me back to reality. The sound reverberates in the pit of my stomach. A warning, a threat. “We’re leaving. And you should, too, if you’ve finally figured out what’s good for you after all these years.”
I don’t even realize that tears are streaming down my face until they get up and walk away. But as soon as I realize, the floodgates well and truly open, and all the sobbing I’ve been trying my hardest to keep inside comes bursting free.