Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Our peace shatters with a single sentence. “I would like to go to Whitlan.”
I pause, fork raised halfway to my mouth, and look at Hannah. Her eyes are trained on her plate, but she isn’t seeing it. She’s back there, in the shithole of a town she grew up in.
“Why?” Foster asks, his tone cautious. I can feel his fingers tapping on his thigh beneath the table as he struggles to hold himself back from rushing around the table to hug her.
She blinks, and then she looks down at Kaitlin, who is too engrossed in her food to care about our conversation. “I just need to be there. To see it for myself. And if I can help the victims Colin and my father sent into Doctor Harrison’s lab, I want to do that too.”
Guilt—that’s what she’s saying. She feels responsible for her family’s actions like her sister does. We’ve spent years trying to convince Omen that what her parents did wasn’t her fault. Now, we’re going to go through the same process with Hannah.
“Do you remember Sable? The angry teenager from the community center?” Foster asks suddenly, pushing his plate away.
I rack my brain trying to put a face to the name.
It takes several seconds before it strikes me.
Sable is the son of that serial killer who went on a spree in New York City ten years ago.
“I do?” Hannah’s answer is uncertain. She’s as confused by the sudden shift in topic as I am.
My Omega stands and walks to the living room.
He returns a moment later with a tablet in hand.
His fingers swipe across the screen before he passes it to her.
“That’s his story. His father, Borden Saunders, kidnapped and eventually killed over thirty people.
All in a two-year span. The things he did to them…
well, I doubt any of us could stomach talking about it. ”
Shock parts Hannah’s lips as she skims the news article Foster pulled up. “Poor Sable. And his mother is the one who killed his father? I can’t imagine how hard that is to live through.”
“Let me ask you something. Is Sable responsible for the deaths of those thirty people?”
She looks aghast at his question, but her lips quickly pinch, and she mutters out a terse “no.”
Foster sets the tablet aside and reaches out to pinch her chin, his grip light but firm.
“Exactly. He isn’t responsible for his parents’ actions, and neither are you.
What your father did in New Hampshire—that’s on him.
Same with Colin. They chose to partake in those atrocities.
Did you willingly take part in the torture of others?
” When her head shakes, he nods. “You aren’t responsible for their actions, Angel. There is no blame on your shoulders.”
Tears fill her eyes, but she blinks them away. “It’s just—I was there, Foster-”
“You were there, Wildfire.” I cut in. “You fed information to the DAU for almost a decade. Endangering yourself each time you silently stepped in to help. What you’ve done is enough. No one expects you to do more.”
Hannah doesn’t seem convinced, but that’s alright. It will take time to prove that she doesn’t have to make up for the things she witnessed in her father’s cult.
“If you’d still like to go to Whitlan for closure, I will take you.”
After a long moment, she quietly declines my offer. “You’re right. Going there won’t assuage my guilt, but it will bring up memories I’d rather forget. Maybe I can visit Omen instead.”
“We go sees Auntie Omen?” Kaitlin chimes in, suddenly interested in us instead of her demolished pancakes.
Hannah stands and grabs both their plates, starting breakfast cleanup. “If she’s feeling up to it. Go wash the syrup off your hands, please.”
“I’ll call Bea and see if she’s free today.” Foster leaves the room to call our friends. He has plans to stop by his workplace later to talk to his boss, so it will only be the girls and me taking the trip over to Starburgh.
With him and Kaitlin busy, I join Hannah in the kitchen.
She rolls her eyes when I start washing, letting her rinse everything instead.
A calm hum of energy vibrates between us.
It feels natural to move around each other, as if there’s never been a day she didn’t occupy space in my home and my heart.
Fate-matched mates were always a concept that caught my curiosity.
My parents were chosen mates, and my mother never took another mate after my father died, so I didn’t grow up witnessing the magical type of love that comes with a Fated connection.
When I met Foster six years ago, the pull between us freaked me out.
To be so drawn to someone that it physically hurts to be away from them for long periods of time…
that was jarring for someone who had never seen it firsthand.
My Omega grew up in a Fate-matched pack, so he knew what was happening from the moment we met.
He guided me through the initial speed bumps, exactly as he’s doing with Hannah.
There is no jealousy over the quicker progression of their relationship, because I have been in her shoes.
Waiting patiently for her to be ready to take those steps with me will make them all the sweeter.
“Thank you.” One brow raises as I turn to look at her. She’s leaning against the counter, one hand resting on her stomach, the other holding a rag. “For protecting us.”
“You don’t have to thank me for that. I’ll always stand between you and any threat you face.”
Whether it’s her ex, her parents, or someone else, they’ll have to go through me to get to her or the kids. No one messes with an Alpha’s pack, not without facing an Alpha’s wrath.
After visiting Omen a few days ago, Hannah lost some of the guilt weighing down her shoulders.
I think hearing that her sister holds the same sense of responsibility helped her realize how misplaced it was.
They’d talked for a long time inside Omen’s bedroom.
Catching up after the five years they were apart.
Both women seemed lighter when they reemerged.
While we were there, Omen’s roommate and Foster’s other best friend, Bea, cornered me to make plans for all three Omegas to attend the Candy Courage concert tonight.
She believes that getting Omen out of their apartment and surrounded by music will help settle her as she fights the chemical rejection.
I had no issues with Foster going with them, but it was polite of her to get my input beforehand.
With so much attention on the Montgomery cult and all its members, the DAU doesn’t believe there are currently significant threats against Hannah or Omen.
So, they should be safe to attend alone.
I doubt I could leave Hannah and Kaitlin here alone to go with them anyway. There is a feeling deep in my gut that tells me her ex won’t let her go so easily. Not when she’s carrying his son.
“What do we think?” Foster steps into the living room and gives us a spin. He’s thrown on ripped black skinny jeans that hug his ass too nicely for my liking. A white t-shirt sits beneath an undone black button-up. Matching Doc Martens completes the look.
“Wow, Foster, you look like you stepped out of a romance novel!” Hannah’s scent swells, floating through the air as he prowls toward her.
“You like it?” One of his hands braces against the back of the couch by her head; the other twirls a strand of her light brown hair around his finger.
She hums her approval, a little breathless.
“Good.” His lips swipe against hers, so quick it barely counts as a kiss, but when she presses her fingers against them, I know she considers it one.
He flutters around the apartment, a tiny smirk on his face. What a little shit, trying to stir her up when he knows he’s leaving for the night.
After he’s finished getting ready and has everything he’ll need for the evening, he returns to the living room.
Our kiss is much filthier, all tongue and teeth.
One hand grips the back of his neck, holding him in place until I’ve had enough.
He’s breathing hard when I let him pull away.
“Stay safe. Call me if anything seems amiss. No reckless behavior, got it?”
“Yes, Alpha. We’ll be careful. I’ll call you when we’re on our way back.” He stops to kiss both Hannah and Kaitlin’s heads, and then he’s out the door.
“Mommy, I is hungry.” Kaitlin leaves her dolls lying on top of her new dollhouse and joins us on the couch. “Can we makes food?”
Sweeping her into my arms, I tickle her sides, thriving on the peals of laughter she releases. “Hungry little monster, how about we order dinner in? No cooking for us tonight!”
Lying limp across my thighs, she lets her head hang toward the floor and giggles. “Okays. Pizza?”
I glance at Hannah, who shrugs. “Pizza it is!”
While we wait, Kaitlin goes back to her toys. She loves playing by herself, but prefers one of us to be in the room to watch her. It’s adorable, but the character’s conversations are telling of the childhood she has experienced.
Hannah winces, shifting to stretch her legs out. “You good, Wildfire?”
“Sore.”
Offering her my hand, I gently shift her until she’s sitting sideways on the couch with her ass planted between my legs. My hands trail down her back until I reach the tense muscles at the bottom. Her groans are music to my ears as I work the tension out. “That feels amazing.”
“You could soak in the tub for a bit,” I offer, fingers lingering on her body. Part of me wants her to say no, so that I can keep her pressed against me a little while longer. When she declines, I have to bite back my smile. “How about we turn on a movie? I have an idea that might help.”
“Sure. You can pick since I might fall asleep.”
I turn on the TV and get us settled with extra pillows. As the movie starts to play, I shift us so that Hannah is pressed fully against my chest. My arms sneak down to her waist, wrapping beneath her baby bump. Ever-so-gently, I lift the weight with my hands.