Chapter 5 Daisy
Daisy
I slip into the waiting car like a ghost of my former self, greeting my father, Colin, rather abruptly, before I buckle up my seatbelt.
I’m still in a state of shock. Of all the people I could have run into on the train, no less, it just had to be Rowan Thorn.
Bastard. He didn’t even have the decency to remember me, but I’m no idiot; I saw all the signs. The way his pale eyes shone, and his cheek muscles ticked when I reached my hand across the table.
And don’t get me started on his Alpha. That creature growled once it got wind of my scent. His body is reacting to me. But he’s just too damn proud. Too damn stubborn.
“Hey, sweetheart. Are you… all right?” My father sounds nervous when he asks his question.
Slowly, I meet his green eyes. River and I got our sea-green eyes from him, of course, but we get our white blonde hair from our mother.
We’ve always known that Colin was our biological father out of the three of our dads. But it never made any difference.
Colin, Derrick, and Edward are all our fathers, where my brothers and I are concerned.
Dad continues, his question laced with a soft Irish lilt. “How was New York? Did you have a good train ride?”
Before I respond, my gaze wanders towards the windshield. The tall, handsome silhouette of Rowan Thorn finally emerges from the heart of the train station as he approaches a waiting cab.
My dad follows my line of vision. A growl rumbles in his chest when he spots the Alpha. “Hold on… isn’t that?”
I sigh, double-checking my seatbelt. “Yes.”
My dad glares at the cab as it pulls out of the station. Then his eyes land back on me again. “Did he hurt you? That bastard—"
I wave him off. “No, no, nothing like that. I’m good. More than good, actually.”
A smirk crosses my face next. Then one appears on my dad’s face, too, as he finally understands. “Did you make him pay?”
I guess I did. There was so much more I wanted to say to that smug prick, but there are a myriad of ways to get back at someone than with just words alone. My happiness and general good health were more than enough.
His rejection didn’t break me, and I bet it is killing him.
My smirk widens. Dad snorts, reaching across to ruffle my head. “Serves him right. I told you those boys would live to regret their decision.”
Dad finally drives us off. Trees hug the road as I wind down the window, inhaling the rich scent of pine. I have missed this; it’s been too long.
One could really feel inspired out here.
My heart pounds as I recall the reunion. It’s in ten days. And of course, I have nothing to wear.
There’s another reason why I wanted to attend, other than to rub my success in my former classmates’ faces. The party is being hosted at the Wynter Lodge. And Noelle Wynter-Hale is one of the owners.
From one author to another—from one rejected Omega to another.
I’m hoping to book a cabin there in the hopes of meeting her. I’m going to casually mention that I’m an author, too.
We will have so much to discuss.
Dad sings along to music on the radio as he taps his finger on the steering wheel. Before long, we’re pulling into Grandpa’s street.
The old, burly Alpha is waiting for me on the front steps of the house as soon as I arrive. Mom is right by his side as she fusses, warning him not to be too hasty. He has a bad leg, after all.
However, as soon as I rush up the stairs, he throws his arms around me, hugging me tight.
“Poundcake!” he cries. “It’s so good to see you.”
I smile at the name, squeezing him tightly. Grandpa lives alone these days. His whole pack has died now, along with his Omega, so Mom decided to move back to the States so she could take care of him.
We gather in the living room. Dad makes us tea as Mom makes sure Grandpa is comfortable. She keeps telling him to take it easy, but Grandpa is just so excited: he wants to know everything about New York as I go into detail about the publishers and Mr. Merrick.
However, there’s an awkward silence after I mention the train ride and my encounter with Rowan.
Grandpa growls, and the old sound rattles deep in his chest. “That good-for-nothing… He could have at least had the decency to remember you. Bastard.”
“Dad, careful now. Your blood pressure,” Mom scolds him, taking her tea from Dad’s hands.
He waves his hand at her dismissively as he has to wait for his tea to cool down per Mom’s orders; she treats him like a baby.
“What? I can’t get mad on my granddaughter’s behalf. Do you remember what those boys did to her, Rachel?”
My Mom sighs, her blue eyes finding mine. “I do. But I also remember that those boys recently lost their mother. So, be kind.”
I almost choke on my tea. “What? M-Molly Thorn died?”
Mom gazes down into her tea. “Yes.”
No one speaks this time as her words float about the room. Something strange comes over me next. A lump lodges in my throat, and I reach up, wiping a tear away before it slides down my face.
I… had no idea…
My mind transports me back to the train ride. Rowan had been very standoffish. Cold even. And I hated him for it.
But had he acted that way because of his recent loss? Grief does have a habit of bringing out the worst in people.
Rowan was no different than a wounded dog. He bit because he was hurt.
And I gave him shit for it.
Had I judged too harshly?
Grandpa sighs grittily next, getting to his feet as he’s finally finished his lukewarm tea. “Come on. Let’s forget about that Alpha now. I want to show you what I’ve done with your room, poundcake.”
Excited, I place my cup down onto a coaster, then follow him up the stairs. It really is good to be back in Silverpine. My fingers trace the familiar wood grains along the banister as I aid Grandpa up the steps.
As soon as we reach the top floor, arriving at my room, I gasp. “You painted?”
The old Alpha puffs out his chest. “That’s right. What do you think, poundcake?”
I drop my bag down by the door, smiling at the blush pink walls. I even have floral curtains. However, there are trees painted on the far wall, just facing my bed. “It’s woodland themed.”
One of my favorites.
“Right you are. Come here and give your grandpa another hug.”
I move to his side, letting the old Alpha swallow me up in his big arms. Now we chat on the bed for a while as it’s almost like no time has passed between us at all; he even suggests going around and knocking Rowan’s lights out, but I decline.
Soon, he leaves the room, letting me get some much-needed rest after my long journey.
Unfortunately, as soon as my head hits the soft, feather pillow, I have a dream that I’m seventeen again, reciting my favorite poem to my scent-matched Alphas.
In the dream, though, their faces are warped and twisted with grief, and soon those men turn into three crying boys.
Three little boys who just lost their mother.
Had I judged too harshly? Or had my actions been just? Sure, they hurt me, but they’ve lost a mother…
I couldn’t even imagine a loss like that. Their rejection hurt, but the loss of a parent… it’s unthinkable.
It seems Molly Thorn never did survive her Alphas’ rejection in the end, after all. Wherever she is, I hope she has finally found peace.
RIP, sweet angel. You deserved better.