Chapter 36 Jessica
JESSICA
Iget dressed. Clean clothes feel amazing after days of heat.
Another rough night. Since we decided to all sleep in the guest room, which is officially mine now, the situation has been cramped. Two queen beds pushed together. Five people. The math doesn't work.
Pedro doesn't do kickboxing, but his sleeping body disagrees.
I woke up on the floor this morning , courtesy of his unconscious martial arts routine.
I managed to climb back up before anyone noticed.
The last thing I need is three alphas ganging up on Pedro about his sleep violence.
He'd get defensive, they'd get protective, nobody would be happy.
We're good. But we definitely need to figure out the bed situation.
One thing at a time.
My phone sits on the counter where someone plugged it in to charge. The screen shows seventeen missed calls, forty-three text messages, and approximately one million notifications from apps I don't remember downloading.
I ignore all of it except one name.
Sharon.
Three voicemails. All from Sharon.
I press play on the first one.
"Jess! Oh my God, it's happening. I'm in labor. The pack is freaking out. I'm freaking out. Call me when you get this. Love you."
The timestamp shows two days ago. Right in the middle of my heat.
Second message:
"Update! One baby down, one to go. It's a girl! Margot Elizabeth. She's perfect and screaming and I already love her more than life itself. Ash fainted. Obviously. I'll send pictures when I'm not actively pushing a human out of my body."
Third message, voice tired but triumphant:
"Both babies are here. Both girls. Margot and Rosalie. They're healthy, I'm exhausted, and Ash fainted twice. Twice, Jessica. But they're perfect. We're all perfect. Call me when you can. I want to hear everything about your heat. Everything. Love you so much."
Tears stream down my face as I listen to her voice. My best friend became a mother while I was lost in heat and pack bonding, and I missed it.
My phone rings in my hand. Sharon's name flashes across the screen.
I answer immediately.
"Jess?" Sharon's voice is exhausted but warm. "You're alive. Thank God. I was starting to think something terrible happened."
"I'm so sorry." More tears spill down my cheeks. "I was in heat. I just got your messages. Sharon, congratulations. How are you? How are the babies?"
"We're good. Tired. So tired. But good." She pauses. "Wait. Did you have help?”
"Yes, the Negorio Pack." I wipe my face with my free hand.
"I bonded with them. During my heat. We're pack now." Silence on the line. Then a small squeal that probably woke at least one baby.
"Jessica! That's amazing! When's the ceremony?" "We haven't planned it yet. Mom wanted to come for it, but with the babies... we'll figure it out."
My mind flashes to Rosa Castellano. To that article with the horrible headline. To Callum and his family and the Morrison PR machine probably already plotting their next move.
I can't dump all of that on Sharon. Not now. Not when she just gave birth to twins.
"Soon," I say, keeping my voice light. "I have some things I need to sort out here first. Nothing major. Just... life stuff."
"Life stuff?" Sharon's voice sharpens with concern. "Jess, what's going on?"
“I still want to work, which doesn’t involve just helping out my pack.” The lie tastes bitter, but I force brightness into my tone. "I promise. I just need a few days to get everything settled, and then I'll come visit. I want to meet Margot and Rosalie properly."
"You're sure you're okay?"
"I'm sure." And as I say it, I realize it's not entirely a lie.
Because even though Callum might retaliate...
I have a pack.
Four alphas who've already proven they'll stand beside me. Who fixed my mother's house without being asked, and love me exactly as I am.
The fear that was coiling in my stomach loosens. Washes away like dirt under clean water.
"I'm really okay," I repeat, meaning it this time.
Sharon makes a satisfied sound. "Good. That's what pack is supposed to do. But Jess? When you're ready to talk about whatever 'life stuff' you're dealing with, I'm here. Babies and all."
"I know. Thank you." My throat tightens. "And Sharon? I'm so happy for you."
"Thanks, babe. Now go rest. You just came out of heat. Your body needs recovery time."
"Yes, ma'am."
"And Jess? I love you."
"Love you too."
When we hang up, I'm smiling despite the lingering anxiety. Tonight, I have soup and pack and the knowledge that I'm not facing any of this alone.
A soft knock on the bathroom door.
"Jess?" Pedro's voice, muffled through the wood. "Soup's getting cold."
"Coming." I pocket my phone and open the door.
He's standing in the hallway, still in his scrubs from God knows when, hair slightly damp like he showered in one of the other bathrooms. His green eyes scan me with clinical assessment, checking for signs of distress.
"You look better."
"I feel better. Still made of jello, but higher-quality jello now. The fancy kind with fruit in it."
His mouth twitches. "I'll take your word for it."
"Sharon called. Well, she called me back." I fall into step beside him as we head for the stairs. "She had the babies. Twins. Both girls."
"That's good news."
"It is." I pause at the top of the stairs. "I didn't tell her about Rosa's article. About the Morrisons. She just gave birth. I didn't want to worry her."
Pedro stops and turns to face me. "You don't have to protect everyone, Jessica. It's okay to lean on people."
"I know. I just..." I swallow hard. "She's been through enough. I can handle this."
"You can." His hand finds my shoulder, warm and steady. "But you don't have to handle it alone. That's what we're here for."
The words settle into my chest like warmth from a fire.
"Thank you."
"Come on." He starts down the stairs. "Before Carlos burns the soup trying to make it 'gourmet.'"
The kitchen is chaos.
Carlos stands at the stove, apparently having woken up enough to take over soup duty. He's stirring a massive pot with the focus of someone defusing a bomb, wearing only sweatpants, hair a disaster.
Sergio sits at the table, laptop open, typing something with his characteristic efficiency. He's dressed now, in jeans and a grey henley, looking almost normal. Almost like the past three days didn't happen.
Except for the bite mark visible above his collar. That's new.
Nacho leans against the counter, nursing a cup of coffee, watching me descend the stairs with those dark, steady eyes.
Four alphas. My alphas. In a kitchen that smells like chicken soup and fresh bread.
My family.
"She's alive!" Carlos waves his wooden spoon in greeting. "I was starting to think the shower swallowed you whole."
"The shower and I have reached an understanding." I slide into a chair at the table. "It agrees not to drown me, and I agree to limit my existential crises to under thirty minutes."
"Sounds reasonable." He ladles soup into a bowl and sets it in front of me. "Eat. Doctor's orders."
"Pedro didn't order anything."
"I'm ordering it." Pedro drops into the chair beside me. "Eat."
"So bossy." But I pick up the spoon and taste the soup. It's good. Warm and savory and exactly what my exhausted body needs. "This is delicious. Did you secretly learn to cook?"
"Carlos helped." Pedro's ears go slightly pink. "I supervised."
"He burned the first batch." Carlos grins from the stove. "Left it on too high while he went to check on you. I rescued the operation."
"My hero."
"I try."
Sergio closes his laptop and focuses on me. "Sharon's babies?"
"Both girls. Margot and Rosalie. She sounds exhausted but happy." I blow on another spoonful of soup. "I told her I'd visit soon. After things settle down here."
"I want to see Pine Hollow." Carlos abandons the stove and drops into the chair across from me. "I've heard they have excellent coffee."
"Your priorities are very clear."
"Coffee is life, Jess."
"Overrated." Pedro cuts in. "Tea is superior."
"You take that back."
"I will not."
"Boys." Sergio's voice carries the weight of years of breaking up sibling arguments. "Let her eat."
I hide my smile behind another spoonful of soup as Carlos and Pedro continue their beverage debate in increasingly passionate whispers.
This is my life now. Soup and squabbles and four men who would drive across the state to meet my best friend's babies because she matters to me.
For the first time in years, I'm just going to let myself be happy.
The soup is warm in my stomach. The voices of my pack fill the kitchen with comfortable noise. Outside, the sun is setting, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink.
Tonight, we have each other.
And that's enough.