Chapter 28 #2
I hated that it made them more human. Hated that it complicated the simple narrative of villains and victim I needed to maintain.
Hated that somewhere beneath my anger and fear, a tiny, treacherous part of me responded to the homey details with a pang of something that felt dangerously like longing.
This felt like home. Like my grandparents mismatched furniture.
Like Grandmother’s quilt. If I saw a damn sit around bird, I might break down.
No. This is not my home. I ruthlessly berated myself. They purchased me. Paid for me like cattle. Whatever humanity they possess doesn’t erase that fundamental violation. And I won’t forget it, no matter how good Cooper's cooking might smell.
When I followed Cooper through a doorway, the aroma of food intensified.
I couldn’t see anything around his formidable Alpha body until he moved further into the room.
This had to be the largest room in the small rambler.
A roughhewn, scarred butcher block island anchored the kitchen.
Above it, copper pots hung from an overhead wagon wheel style rack.
Everything was older, almost antique, except for a professional grade looking range.
Even an oil lamp sat in the middle of the dining table, like this was little home on the prairie instead of modern-day Wyoming.
Cooper moved to the fridge, which was also from a bygone era.
It was shorter and rounded at the top. It looked heavy, formidable.
He reached in and pulled out a pitcher of juice.
I glanced over to the left, finding what I hoped wouldn’t be here—the other men, each seated around a table, each nursing a steaming mug of coffee.
I’d hoped Boone and Cooper were the only ones still in the house. It had been so quiet when I’d left the bedroom. Didn’t a ranch have a hell of a lot of daily chores to do? Shouldn’t they be out… I dunno, sweeping hay and tipping cattle? What time was it anyways?
Wyatt occupied the head of the table, his posture radiating that easy authority that seemed as natural to him as breathing.
His piercing green eyes locked with mine the moment I looked at him, like he’d just been waiting for me to notice him.
The mustache that helped distinguish him from his twin brother Wade twitched slightly as his lips formed what might have been the beginning of a smile, but it faded before it could fully form.
Maybe because I was Queen Resting Bitch Face right then.
Wade sat to Wyatt's right, his identical features softened by an expression of gentle concern that made something twist uncomfortably in my chest. Unlike his brother, he made no attempt to hide his reaction to my appearance—relief washed openly across his face, followed by a warmth that felt too intimate, too assuming.
He had no right to look at me this way. I tried to think something nasty about him.
But, instead, I found myself appreciating things.
The mullet, which I shouldn’t find attractive.
The gap. The little eyebrow scar.
Levi occupied a third chair, his unusual eyes sharp and analytical behind black-framed glasses I hadn't noticed yesterday. He’d been writing in a ledger before my arrival, but his pen stilled the moment I appeared, his gaze moving over me with the careful assessment of someone cataloging data points.
I wished I’d paid better attention to the Eros video. Levi was… the numbers guy?
I wondered if he quantified people the way he did finances.
Her eyes are equidistance from her nose.
Her lips have a satisfying double bell curve.
Her body is pleasingly symmetrical. I glanced down at where he’d been writing, noting how he was shoving the pen tip roughly into the paper now.
Ink was bleeding outward, ruining what he’d just neatly written.
After a moment, Levi averted his gaze, eyes going down to begin writing again.
He frowned at the black smudge across his carefully done accounting.
Wyatt and Wade’s eyes were still locked on me, their expressions shifting quickly, as if they weren’t sure what to settle on.
The flashes of hope hurt the most. I could deal with unhappy frowns, predatory smiles, maybe irritation that I wasn’t what they’d expected from Eros—which was probably a docile, ready-to-please mate.
Yet, when their gazes tightened momentarily, and their mouths stopped on the verge of smiles, I wavered.
When I could tell that their own hearts were beating like mine, pulses racing, I had a flash of kinship.
When their mouths opened, then closed, as if looking for the right words to say to soothe me, like I was a wild creature they were afraid of startling, I found myself wanting to reassure them that it would all be okay. And why the fuck would I do that?
My heart rate quickened, flight instinct prickling along my spine. I had to leave before they hooked me against my will. I had to leave before my Omega needs were too great to refuse.
They were all staring.
Even Cooper, who’d been prepping a plate of food.
I didn’t like being the center of attention. I didn’t like the way my body subconsciously tilted towards the table, desperate to be closer to them. Damn them to hell. Why did they smell so good.
The air was thick with their collective scent, each one distinct yet blending into a heady cloud that made me dizzy.
My own body perfumed the air, and there was no way to stop it.
I saw the twins flare nostrils, their Alphas catching wind of the way my anatomy was reacting.
Wyatt’s hand dropped from his coffee mug, nails digging into the table as he controlled himself.
Wade stood up unexpectedly, his chair screeching across the floor, looking like he’d race towards me and take whatever he wanted.
I straightened my spine, lifting my chin despite the preposterousness of trying to look dignified while wearing lobster-print bottoms and an oversized t-shirt.
Let them look, but if they tried to touch me, I’d scratch their eyes out.
I wanted them to see the defiance that hadn't dimmed despite last night's failure, despite the awkward intimacy of Wade cleaning my wounds, despite Levi’s stupid jacket, and Cooper’s food.
Deliberately, I allowed my expression to darken, my lips pressing into a thin line, my eyes narrowing. A nonverbal rejection of their hopeful looks, a reminder that I wasn't theirs, would never be theirs, no matter what paperwork Eros had provided.
A flash of hurt crossed Wade’s face before he masked it.
He sat back down, hands curling around his chipped mug.
Wyatt's reaction was more subtle—a tightening around his eyes, a slight straightening of his already impeccable posture.
Levi was still staring down at his ledger, not writing, but deliberately avoiding looking in my direction.
I watched as he brutally held the pen. When it snapped, ink splattering across the ledger, his hand, and the table, Cooper came to the rescue with a paper towel.
He only succeeded in smearing the ink everywhere, he was so distracted, sending quick glances in my direction.
“Just leave it,” Levi muttered, closing the ledger around the busted pen. “This is the backup anyways.” He picked up his own mug, transferring ink from his hands onto it, and stood up abruptly. He all but stomped to the sink to rinse the mug and scrub his hands.
“Have a seat, Nell.” Cooper, still holding a large wad of ink-stained towels, pulled out a vacant chair. He was obviously forcing his smile; it didn’t reach his navy eyes.
“I told you not to call me Nell,” I grumbled.
“Did you tell me that?” He cocked his head to one side, pretending to think. “I’ll try to remember that. You just remember your strength,” he reminded me, and had the absolute balls to wink afterwards.
“Shut up,” I said, exasperated.
“I will, if you eat,” he insisted.
“The food won’t bite, Nelly. Neither will we.” This from Wade.
“Until you want us too,” Cooper added quickly.
“Coop, pretty sure she told you to shut up.” Wyatt’s voice cut through the room, causing everyone to fall silent.
I tossed him a grateful look, before realizing what I was doing. I had no reason to be grateful to his macho ass. I wouldn’t be here, having to deal with any of them, if they hadn’t made a deal with Eros.
Still, I took the chair Cooper offered and sat down.
As soon as I did, taking the pressure off my feet made pulses pound in each sole.
But I didn’t show it. I refused to let them know last night’s failure was still giving me grief.
Cooper tried to push my chair in, but I batted his hands away.
Though my feet were screaming at me, I lifted and scooted closer by myself.
I may not be as big and strong as them but working the pole had given me respectable upper body definition.
I could move a damn chair myself. I could do a lot of things my own damn self…
Though, escaping Sagebrush Ranch wasn’t one of those things.
"Coffee?" Cooper asked, moving away from me and towards a large percolator on the counter. "Or the fresh squeezed orange juice?"
"Coffee," I managed, my voice sounding rough even to my own ears. Being even closer to the men at the table was making their smell nearly overwhelming.
“Cream and sugar?”
“No,” I said it sharply, trying to push through the way my vision wanted to blur as my head felt increasingly floatier. I needed it black, bitter enough to cut through the fog of Alpha pheromones.
No one spoke as Cooper poured me a mug and walked it back toward me.
No one spoke as he retraced his steps, grabbed the plate he’d finished prepping and brought that to the table too.
I looked at it, half expecting a mountain of bacon and steak and all the heavy farm stuff cowboys ate.
Instead, I found two pieces of toast topped with scrambled eggs.
Herbs dotted the dark, sunflower yellow.
Beside that were odd looking berries, like tiny red watermelons with light veins. I picked one up, studying it.
“Gooseberries,” Wyatt explained without me needing to ask. “Found a patch this morning.”
“Found them and didn’t have gloves,” Cooper chided.
I glanced at Wyatt’s hands, which were covered in angry red dots. He looked down too, his gaze unchanged. “They’re prickly things.”
“Why would you pick them without gloves then?” I said rolling one of the berries around in my hand.
“Cooper said you liked to eat fruit,” he admitted, meeting my eyes. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t act embarrassed. He held my gaze without an ounce of remorse for causing himself pain, or for admitting he’d done it for me.
“Oh,” my mouth dropped, I didn’t know how to respond to that.
Wade lifted an arm and clamped his brother on the shoulder. “We’ll get more groceries soon. Until then, take gloves with you just in case you see another good patch.”
“Wasn’t so bad,” Wyatt brushed off the advice, and Wade’s hand.
“You said the same thing last time the bull nearly gutted you,” Levi remarked dryly. I looked for him, finding him now standing near the back door cleaning his glasses.
I felt like I should thank Wyatt for hurting himself getting something I’d not really asked for. But I also didn’t want to thank any of them for anything. In the end, I chose politeness. Because that’s what my grandmother would have told me to do.
“Thank you, Wyatt.” I didn’t smile. The words were all I would willingly give him.
When he looked at me though, his cheeks lifting as his mouth spread into the most achingly genuine smile below the mustache, I found myself smiling too. I pushed the gooseberry between my lips and bit down. It burst in my mouth, the juice sweet and slightly tart.
“Do you like it?” He asked slowly, voice steady.
I nodded.
God, how was his smile still widening? How was it breaking my heart a little bit?
“Eat the eggs before they’re cold, Nell.” Cooper used the shortened version of my name again. I looked at him in irritation. The smug bastard just kept smiling from where he was leaning against the kitchen counter holding a glass of juice.
Though I wanted to devour the berries first, I also hated cold eggs.
I picked up the fork, cautiously pushing the fluffy yellow.
Suddenly, it dawned on me that I hadn’t even questioned the food.
That would be one way to keep me here, drugged up and unable to fight.
See—zero real survival skills. I put the fork down, picked up the plate, and peered closer at everything.
“We’re not cowards. If we wanted to hurt you, we’d do it open and honest like,” Levi said, moving back to the table and sitting down.
“Right, you’re not cowards who can’t find a mate yourselves, so you hired someone to do it for you.
And then the cowards you hired, grabbed an Omega from her job, with zero warning, after tricking her into signing a medical release for bloodwork.
And she had to sign that release to get a clean bill of health, because she wanted to keep her job.
” The words tumbled out in a stream. I couldn’t stop them.
At some point, I’d picked the fork back up and I was brandishing it like a weapon at them.
“Cowards. Every single person involved are fucking cowards,” I spat out. “Tricking woman. Kidnapping them. Drugging them. Handcuffing them!”
The pitch of my voice kept rising, until the last word I uttered was nearly a squeak.
It was a little vindicating to see how uncomfortable they all looked once I clamped my mouth closed again.
“You were tricked?” A sleepy voice responded. I turned in the chair, finding Boone’s giant form filling the doorway. His braid was undone now, his incredibly long hair curtaining around his deep, golden-brown face. “You didn’t sign a contract willingly and now you’re just regretting it?”