Chapter 11
Silver
“A phone call. A single text. That’s all it would have taken so we didn’t sit around worrying for the past five fucking hours,” Munro snaps, ignoring Pace as he shakes his head like he’s disappointed in me. Damn, that stings, because it’s hitting a little too close to home when I’m already drained and fighting for my life with my emotions.
In my head, I’m chanting ‘I won’t cry, I won’t cry, I won’t cry’ to absolutely no avail, because I feel the first pricks in my eyes as they fill with unwanted tears of upset and anger. I mean, it’s not my fucking responsibility to ensure the twins brief him every time they leave the house. I don’t even know why he’s having a go at me over it, when the twins are standing right there, holding pizza boxes and frowning like they’re just as confused.
Suddenly, too quickly for me to stop it, a tear slips free and trails a scalding line down my cheek. It’s like the tone in the room completely shifts as soon as the tears appear, because suddenly Aero is kneeling between my legs on the floor, cupping my face a split second before I see Munro’s face turn slack with shock, Aero’s thumb rubbing the tear away before I can reach it.
“Don’t listen to him, baby. He’s just being an overbearing asshole because he was worried about you all,” the omega assures, pale eyes pleading as he peers up at me, his warm hands cupping my face so gently that it makes me want to cry even more. Damn it, I hate crying.
To disguise that fact, I snort with skepticism, tugging my face free before I awkwardly stand and step away from him. I see a flash of panic over his face before I look around and find different expressions watching me. Pace looks understandably concerned, because he’s facing a potential crying jag from an overtired, hungry, and, apparently, emotional omega. Rage and Haze are both glaring at Munro like they want to knock his head into the wall a couple of times, and Munro is staring at me with a look I can’t decipher. I don’t want to decipher it, if I’m being honest. I want as far away from these guys as my house will allow.
Clearing my throat and blinking my eyes rapidly and accidentally knocking a tear loose, I swipe it away with a slap, tug harshly at my backbone and straighten as I have a stare off with the beta who has a fucking nerve. Anger battles against the hurt that niggles away in my chest, and I despise now more than ever that I’m an emotional crier as I calmly counter, “Juno and her pack knew where I was, because I texted her that I was going to work. She can track my cell for safety, just like I can with hers, especially after her attack. She knew where I was at all times and must have told her pack, too. It was Lowie that disclosed my whereabouts to the twins after I told Rage I was going to work, who came searching for me to apologize for Rage’s outburst earlier. I had no control over the twins showing up at my workplace, had no control over them staying for five hours while I worked, and certainly didn’t have any control over their lack of forethought in letting you know they were safe.”
I look at the others, and I wonder for the first time if this shit is even worth offering my energy to. All it took was a single weekend to make me regret offering them a place to stay, because not only am I on the verge of tears, but my crushes have been effectively ruined. They’re not gone, because I’m, apparently, a sadist, but now it doesn’t feel good to be crushing on them at all. I didn’t mind crushing on pack Larsen before I realized what tools they were. Now I feel stupid for it, even if I still find them all levels of hot.
What’s worse, though, is knowing that no matter how many olive branches I hand out, no matter how many good deeds or kind gestures I apply to pack Larsen, it seems that it won’t ever be enough for Munro. And if I can’t break through to the miserable bastard, even just a little, then it’s clear that he and his family aren’t the ones for me. That was the truest delusional, little daydream I’ve been harboring. Even if Aero likes me, and the twins don’t seem to mind me, it’s not like anything will happen from there. They’re all a pack, they come as a package, right? If one isn't on board, then none of them are. At least, that’s how it was with Juno’s pack. It was her or no one for them.
I’m clearly not going to get that here, so I guess I should simply let that fantasy go. They can stay here like I promised, they can help me with the ball in a month, and then we can simply coexist until they move on. I’ll stay out of their way, and they can stay out of mine while I try to carve these stupid, little crushes out of my head and heart.
It’s a good decision, it really is. But why does my chest ache at the thought of it? I mean, this weekend is the first time I’ve actually spent any level of time around them all in any capacity without Juno present, and even then we didn’t really talk. And yet, it seems my crushes ran a little deeper than I realized, spending those months looking in from the outside and growing little ideations and fantasies in my mind of a pack that could be mine and slotting pack Larsen’s faces into the spots I reserved for the guys I’d end up with.
Silly me, right?
Shaking my head and feeling disappointed in myself, I shrug and huff a tired, humorless laugh. “You want to be pissed at your family for not telling you where they were, then be pissed at them. But don’t you dare stand there snapping your teeth at me for not providing you the same courtesy when I don’t belong in your little family. For weeks on end you’ve spent your time either ignoring me, avoiding spending a single second in my presence, or snapping at me. You’ve made me perfectly aware that I’m insufferable to be around, that I’m a nuisance that you tolerate for the sake of Juno, so excuse me for not wanting to offer my location to you when it’s clear that my very existence seems to bother you. Not that I think you’d give a shit to have it anyway. You’re just finding something to bitch me out over, when you’re actually upset with the twins for not telling you they were leaving the house.”
Without offering him a chance to retaliate, too tired to deal with this shit and not wanting to cry in front of them all, I look to the floor and bite the inside of my cheek before muttering, “I’m tired, I’ve been on my feet for five hours, and I want to go to sleep. I don’t even care about the pizza anymore.”
For some reason, that feels like the saddest thing of the entire day, my pizza going wasted because my appetite has suddenly disappeared.
“You still need to eat something. You were working for five hours and you didn’t stop once to eat,” Rage insists, holding a pizza box out to me, the indifferent mask he usually wears slipping enough to reveal annoyance and concern. I don’t even know if he’s annoyed at me, which says a lot. I don’t know these guys. And they don’t know me.
Taking the box without a plan to eat its contents, I hold my breath and step around them all, offering Munro a wide berth. I’m already drowning in sensory overload, with my emotions rioting and my chest aching and head pounding. Breathing in each of their scents will simply have my betraying body going out of sorts, and I have no interest in battling that tonight, too.
As soon as I’m clear of pack Larsen and the threat of inhaling their addictive scents, I take a deep breath and stop at the archway that separates the living room to the rest of the house. Without turning my body, I announce over my shoulder, “If this weekend has proven anything, it’s that we are absolutely not compatible. So, from tomorrow onward, you guys live your lives and I’ll live mine. That way, when one of your family members goes AWOL, you can rest assured that it had absolutely nothing to do with me.”
I’m about to leave them all standing there like a bunch of rotten melons when I make a last minute decision, pausing to add, “And don’t worry about the charity benefit. You’re free of our deal, because there’s no way I’m dealing with more of this. Two days’ worth of drama is enough to last me a lifetime, so don’t sweat it. I’ll keep my end of the bargain, though. Stay as long as you need or want, I don’t care. If you want to start paying after six months, whatever. Do as you please. All I ask is that you stay out of my life, and I’ll stay well and truly out of yours. Gods forbid I get blamed for something that had absolutely nothing to do with me again.”
And with that, I walk to the kitchen, a tense silence following after me. I don’t look back, keeping my head high, as I reach the fridge and stuff the pizza box inside, the other boxes from last night notably missing. I’m glad they helped themselves to the pizza we were meant to share, anyway.
Leaning against the counter while I stare at the shiny fridge door, I sigh deeply and begin untying my hair from the two pigtails that have grown messy and wonky through the night, my reflection looking as haggard as I feel.
Fuck me, what a weekend. I knew this was going to be a disaster and I’d regret offering my home the moment the words slipped free of my mouth. I never expected the whole thing to go to shit quite so quickly, though. Seems only Juno and Alek can tolerate me these days.
Ah, well. It is what it is. No use dwelling on it.
Hair free and an ache left over from where the hair ties have been wrapped tightly for too long, I’m about to leave the kitchen with my hand rubbing against the left side of my head when raised voices stop me.
I don’t mean to be nosy, because the last thing I want is to eavesdrop on any conversations. I’d like nothing more than to scurry away and hide again, in all truthfulness. What stops me is the risk of being spotted and forced into another conversation I don’t want. I just want to fucking sleep, for the love of all that is comfortable and warm.
“She was starting to fucking like me, you asshole,” Aero snaps, close to shouting, his voice carrying clear enough that I hear every word as though I were standing right next to him.
“What does it matter? We’re not here to get her to like us,” Munro counters, though there’s less bite in his words when they’re directed at that omega. Seems it’s just me he has an issue with.
“Speak for yourself, Ro,” Aero volleys with a vehemence that shocks me. It’s the first time I’ve heard him sound genuinely furious, and I’m almost flattered that it’s over me. “Just because you have your hangups over that conniving bitch, Veronica, doesn’t mean every wealthy omega is the same. It’s clear to anyone with eyes that you want Silver, you’re just letting the shit Veronica pulled on you guide your stupid ass through life.”
“That’s not true,” Munro tries to argue, only he doesn’t sound so sure himself.
I hear a scoff before Rage’s voice reaches my ears, his tone harsh and mocking, “Don’t fucking kid yourself, bro. I might have been an asshole to Silver, but, apparently, that had nothing on the shit you’ve been putting her through. It actually stung my chest when I saw that look of hurt flash over her face before she tried to hide it. And you… you made her cry by shouting at her for something that was my fault. You know what she told me earlier? That you hurt her feelings more than any of us, on a daily basis, and that she thinks she’s growing a tolerance to it. You think that looks like a tolerance to your crap?”
Before Munro can answer, Haze continues, “Veronica fucked you up, but Silver isn’t Veronica. Anyone with two brain cells to rub together can tell they are two polar opposites. The only reason you gravitated toward Juno despite her being an omega is because she’s you in female form. There’s no way she could hurt you. Silver, though? If given the slightest chance, you know she could break your heart, and you’ll end up right back into that shitty headspace you were in for a whole year when Veronica upped and left. Just say you're scared, get over it, and start realizing that Silver isn’t your enemy. Have you even thanked her for letting us stay here, you ungrateful prick? Would Veronica have let a pack she didn’t know live with her for free? One that actively ignored, avoided, and made no effort to get to know her?”
Silence follows that outburst, and my chest warms at hearing the twins defend me. I might not know who this Veronica is, but she sounds like a bitch, so it’s nice to hear them separate me from her. They can all still fuck themselves. I’m done.
“Quit taking your problems out on Silver, just because you’re finding the most miniscule similarities between her and the woman that broke your heart three damned years ago,” Aero finally concludes, before there’s a sound of material shuffling and footsteps along the floor. They pause a moment later, and I hold my breath, still rubbing my head to ease the ache. “For the first time in my life, there’s a girl I want. Really fucking want, and you just went and ruined it because you can’t tell your head from your ass. You either fix it, or step the fuck off, because Silver Gage will be mine whether or not you want to be a part of it. Think about that the next time you want to bite her head off.”
The sound of footsteps disappearing follows after Aero’s outburst, and I imagine he’s decided to ditch his pack so he can have an omega-worthy pout without an audience. It’s certainly what I would have done, so I can relate.
Munro groans deeply, and I can picture him dropping his head to the back of the couch, but I’m entirely too distracted by Aero’s words. The omega wants me? Actually wants me? What the fuck? I mean, sure, he mentioned dating, but then he brought up the friend thing, so I figured I was looking too deeply into it. But now? Well, hell, you could push me over with the slightest nudge for how shocked I am.
“Where do you stand with this? Based on the glares I’m getting from the twins, they seem to be in agreement with Aero,” Munro grumbles, sounding chastised and remorseful. I’ve never heard his tone sound so soft, so full of regret, and I’m sure it’s all because the guys are pissed at him and not because he made me cry. I mean, I’m not so full of myself that I believe I could cause such a reaction out of the guy that hates me so thoroughly.
It takes a moment for me to hear an answer, Pace’s deep baritone reaching me with ease. “I never had a problem with Silver to begin with. I simply kept my distance for several reasons. You seem to have issues with her, we’re broke and were on the brink of homelessness, and she’s a wealthy and unbonded omega who would expect more than we have to offer. Doesn’t mean I don’t like the girl. Just didn’t see much of a point in showing as much before.”
“What does that mean?” Haze wonders, genuinely curious.
I won’t lie, I kind of am, too.
So, like a despicable eavesdropper, I lean against the counter and strain my hearing in hopes of hearing the answer.
Sure enough, one comes a second later. “If you want honesty, I think she’s beautiful, funny, has a heart of gold like I’ve never seen before, and somehow rolls with the punches she keeps getting launched at her. I’ve just been trying to figure out how any of this could work with Munro’s hangups, Rage’s aversion to wealth, and the fact that we now live with her after struggling with simply getting through the week.”
“So, you’re into her?” Rage questions, and I can’t quite make out what it is I hear in his tone.
I don’t hear an answer, and I’m unreasonably frustrated by it, but then Munro questions, “And her being an unbonded omega? Thought you didn’t touch those with a ten-foot barge pole.”
Silence answers again, and I’m convinced Pace isn’t going to answer, so I decide to take that opportunity to escape. I don’t need to hear his answer. I’m on a massive overload as it is, fighting an exhaustion I feel deep in my bones, and am ready to crash out until I have to wake up in the morning and get ready for class.
So, with all the stealth of a prowling panther, I slip my feet free of my boots and begin tiptoeing to the stairs that are thankfully hidden by a part of the wall that separates the entry way and the living room.
I’m halfway up the stairs when I think I hear Pace reply, his voice quietened enough that I’m sure I mistook his words, “Might not be a risk if it’s with Silver.”
What does that mean?
Eyebrows pinched and mulling over those words, rolling them around and around in my head, I continue up the stairs and through the hallway. I don’t stop until I’m shut behind the door of my nest, and I make an active effort to twist the lock of my door, testing the handle a couple of times to ensure there won’t be any morning visitors with bagels and juice waltzing straight in.
Slightly in a daze, I go about changing into comfy sleep clothes, washing my face in the attached bathroom and brushing out the knots in my hair. After twisting my blonde and pastel-colored hair into a loose bun at the nape of my neck, I yawn loudly and decide that I can overthink all I heard after I’ve slept on it. There’s too much swimming in my head to make much sense of it all, and I’m in no frame of mind to be unpacking it all.
Yawning once more, I crawl into my nest, inhaling my scent and the faint whiffs of Aero’s frosted plum that clings to every piece of material he came into contact with. I snuggle into the cloud of comfort, wrapping up tight, and I’m dead to the world within minutes.