Chapter 1 #2
Raynor is the intuitive alpha in the family, often seeing and calling me out for my feelings, but I’ve gotten really good at telling half truths, like it’s the messy kitchen that’s breaking my heart and hiding the fact that loving them is the most painful part of my existence.
I exhale roughly, really struggling with those tears. “I got yelled at again.”
He moves into the room, closer to me. I can feel that huge aura of his surrounding me. My walls crumble a little bit more. What would it be to lean into this love of my life and have him look at me the way I’ve been dreaming of?
Raynor stands to the side of me and pulls me into him. I lean against his stomach and let a couple of those tears I’m holding go.
“I’m really sorry, love. Are you sure you don’t want to go toilet paper his house?”
I snort a laugh and shake my head against him. I inhale the vanilla scent of him and find the peace I’ve been longing for.
“It doesn’t matter. What have you been making? What’s for dinner?”
Raynor makes a humming sound. It’s his guilty tell, and I try to swallow the hurt as I pull away from him.
“It’s okay, I can make my own.”
“Mal and Indy cooked. Indy wanted to give a house warming dish to her friends,” Raynor says softly. “Then we decided to go out for dinner, so there’s nothing left.”
“It’s all right, Raynor. Truly, it’s fine. You have a girlfriend now. You are like a real-” I can’t finish that sentence.
Like a real pack. How she managed to fool all three of them is beyond me. And the way they are with her is opposite of how they are with me. We said we were a pack forever, but then when I fell for them, they just saw me as a sister. Just part of the furniture.
“I’ll clean up when I get home,” Raynor says and massages my shoulder.
I shake my head and pull away from him. “You guys won’t be back tonight. I’ll just do it.”
Raynor steps back as I stand up. My body aches, but I force myself to turn and look at him.
It’s getting more painful to look them in the eyes.
I heard them talking about bonding the other day.
I don’t think I was supposed to overhear it.
If they bond Indy, I’ll be on my own. How selfish is it that I don’t want them to?
Raynor has the sexy indie musician look down pat.
With messy brown hair and green eyes, there’s a smattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks.
He’s my dreamer, my intense artist who creates songs that break my heart and sings them in a crooning voice that I adore.
I’d be his number one fan forever. Why is he so beautiful?
Raynor shuffles closer and tilts my chin up with a single finger and inspects my face. “You look tired, Vae. You need to sleep.”
“Can’t. I have to cook, clean, laundry. Get Deacon and Mal’s stuff ready for the game. Practice. Work.” Just saying it makes me want to weep.
His beautiful green eyes crinkle as he frowns. He’s taller than the other two and wider at the shoulders, and he used to be the one to check on me. He doesn’t do it very often these days.
They really are moving on.
So, maybe I should as well. That bitter thought lingers, echoing in my mind.
“I’ll make it up to you,” he says in a low, intimate voice that sends my imagination wild. What would he taste like? What would he do if I leaned forward and licked that spot where his collarbone leaves a little divot of shadow?
A warm pain stabs my stomach, and I clench my teeth together, mortified by my thoughts.
The normally placid Raynor turns alert in a heartbeat, sniffing the air. “What is that?”
“What?” I ask and pretend I have no idea what he’s talking about.
He frowns and looks around but shakes his head, distracted by his girlfriend giggling. “Must’ve been…hmm, never mind.”
“Sure,” I agree and turn to the dishes. I just hope he never notices how often I fall into fantasies of them. I’m surprised they haven’t noticed how fast my heart starts racing or how sweaty I get.
Oh, the secrets we keep.
Deacon comes barreling into the kitchen, looking incredible with his dark blue eyes that see far too deeply. Only when he’s looking, though. It’s been a long time since Deacon looked at me.
“Vae, can you wash our gear? We need it tomorrow?”
I scowl, my temper flaring and spilling over. “When are you going to do it yourself? You need to grow up, Deacon!”
He stops and scowls at me, and he’s right. I’m not normally so rude, but today has been hard.
“Sure, I’ll grow up when you stop being our very own grumpy ass, Hook.”
I narrow my eyes. Ever since we were kids, our foster mother Maria used to call us the lost boys, but somewhere along the line, I grew up, and they didn’t.
“Do not call me that!”
“If the shoe fits.”
I close my eyes as he moves closer. The ass presses the tip of his index finger to my forehead and pushes until I sway backwards.
“Have some fun once in a while, Hook. Learn to have a good time like the rest of us.”
I grind my teeth, frustrated all over again. “I can’t! Someone needs to clean up the mess! Where are you going tonight, anyway? You aren’t going to get drunk again? You have practice tomorrow! They’ll bench you!”
“The Lost Boys are going out on the town. We’re celebrating Raynor’s new gig,” Deacon says with a tossed look over his shoulder. My tone is no doubt aggravating him, but, hell, he just parades around the house naked all the time and that aggravates the shit out of me.
Wait.
Raynor has a gig, and he didn’t tell me? They’re going out celebrating without me? The Lost Boys? Am I not one of them anymore?
I turn a wounded look on Raynor.
“I was going to tell you. Fucking hell, Deacon, can you let me tell her?” He turns to me and reaches out, trying to take my hand. I step back into the kitchen cupboard. “It’s in a couple of weeks. Just singing at a club. There’ll be a couple hundred people. Indy’s friend owns it.”
“So, you’re going out-” I ask blankly, stunned by the weight of my failures. I could never help him get a gig. I don’t even know a hundred people.
“We’re going out to play. To have fun. To live a little. All three things you do not know how to do,” Deacon purrs and slaps a kiss to my temple. “Don’t wait up, Captain, my captain.”
I throw a chunk of what looks like bread at his head, but I don’t have the hand-eye coordination that they do, and it bounces harmlessly off the wall, onto the floor. One more thing for me to clean.
Deacon laughs at me, which only makes everything that much worse. Mal wanders in and grips my cheeks, forcing me to stare into those golden eyes.
“We were going to tell you before we leave. Promise, Veevee. Don’t be mad.”
“How can I be mad when it’s Raynor’s dream?” I whisper. I’m heartbroken over the fact that you’re leaving me behind.
Mal’s smile is blinding, and I’m left struggling to breathe through it.
“What’s taking so long?”
I flinch at the sound of Indy’s voice. Mal moves away from me, as he always does when she’s close.
It hurts. I was there when he first came to live with our foster parents.
I was there on his first day of high school, and when he presented as an alpha.
For all the moments that meant anything, they belonged to me.
Now, they are giving them to her.
I turn away and start cleaning up the mess that Raynor made in the kitchen.
“Can you please make sure you clean the table properly? I’m going to bring Cassie over tomorrow,” Indy says in her snappy tone. “This house is an embarrassment. You really ought to do better, Vae.”
I hunch my shoulders and don’t answer her.
“Hey! I’m talking to you.”
I turn and force a smile, surprised to find that we’re alone in the room, though I shouldn’t be surprised. She never talks to me like this when they can hear.
The condescension on her face makes me want to hit her, but I can’t do that. I don’t think they would choose me anymore.
“Do the guys know Cassie is coming over?” I ask instead of answering her.
Her floral omega scent irritates my nose.
“Course they do; the Lost Boys are throwing a party.”
I close my eyes and count to three and then do it again.
I cannot deal with this. I really can’t. Everything about their parties is just too much. I hate them. I hate the mess, the cleaning, the smell of all those different people invading my space.
I stalk around Indy and get to the front door, only to pause when I find my keys missing.
“Where are my keys?” I shout.
“Mal’s taking the car,” Indy says and gathers her jacket, pulling it on. She’s dogging my steps, driving me further and further away.
I stop dead.
I’m trapped in this hellhole.
I can’t escape. The furnace of heat threatens to spill over. I slip into the garden, counting to ten and taking deep breaths.
I don’t feel well.
I think I’m coming down with the flu. All I want to do is go to bed, but I can’t.
I hear the car drive away and return to the house.
For a long time, I just stare at the mess, and then, because there really is no other option, I get to work.