Chapter 9
CHAPTER
NINE
ARBOR
I’ve never been more sick to my stomach than I am driving to work this morning. Yesterday, leaving Glenn outside in the woods with the Howlers surrounding him had me pulling over and vomiting on the side of the road. But I panicked. I couldn’t risk getting taken by the three of them.
They might have been perfect gentlemen, but they didn’t look like it.
I didn’t want to stay and find out. So I left, my entire body shaking with adrenaline as I drove away.
He hates me.
That phone call proves it. He knows what I did.
He called me Mr. Wren. He hung up on me. And now I have to see him.
Oh, gods, I’m going to be sick.
I swallow down bile as I pull into the dirt parking lot. It’s not raining anymore, but it’s humid out. The minute I step outside, my already sweating skin positively drips.
Glenn isn’t here yet, and waiting for his arrival is making my entire body jittery.
I sit behind my desk, deciding against coffee as my stomach is roiling, and I already feel my teeth clattering anxiously against one another. If I drink any caffeine, I may die.
I rub my fingers against my temples before pulling the pendant from beneath my shirt and running it between my fingers. It better work today. It better conceal the scent of anxiety wafting off my body.
With a flick of my finger, I turn my computer on.
I need to work. We’re currently two days behind because of the storm and my heat.
Luckily, because I’m not fully an omega, I don’t need to have an alpha for my heats.
They’re preferred, but I can get through them alone without dying in the process.
It’s just a little uncomfortable and awkward.
But doable.
It’s how I made it through all of yesterday, with an inflated-knot dildo in my ass while I stared at my phone. I wanted to call him, waited for him to call me.
He didn’t, of course.
I don’t blame him. I suck. I’m the worst, most terrible person on Earth.
Whatever spark we had, I smothered it when I left. I knew that’s what would happen. I was banking on it happening, but still...
I didn’t know it would hurt this badly.
I clutch at my chest when I hear the rev of his truck pulling into the parking lot. My breathing speeds up, my pulse thumping. With shaking hands, I put on my glasses and stare at my screen, pretending to be normal.
Everything is normal.
The engine shuts off, and I hear the door slam. I hold my breath, my body vibrating with anxiety, with nerves. With lust.
Oh, gods, this was a terrible mistake. I should have never gotten involved with someone at work, and an alpha, no less. But it was so hard to resist.
Every inch of him attracts me, pulls me in.
The door swings open, and I let out a long, controlled exhale.
My eyes flick up to his, but he doesn’t meet my stare. Just walks over to the coffee machine and brews a cup. It’s silent except for the burbling of the coffee and milk coming from the machine.
I swallow loudly, my scent giving off a nervous, bitter scent that the pendant does nothing to quell. Cinnamon with a hint of bitter almond. It’s not a good mix. Not at all.
Not that he says anything. He just turns and stands in front of my desk, his gaze not meeting mine.
I wet my dry lips, attempting to say something, but nothing comes out. Nothing coherent anyway. It’s just an endless stammer for a solid minute.
“I—Gle—I—well, I—sorry—shit.”
I clear my throat, and Glenn sighs.
“What do we have on the agenda today, Mr. Wren?”
I blink up at him, feeling my eyes sting.
“Right. Yes. The agenda.” My hands flutter around with the papers on my desk and then move to the mouse for my screen. I don’t remember where I put the damn agenda. Is it on paper or on the computer? I don’t know. Nothing seems to work correctly.
My brain isn’t either.
It’s malfunctioning.
“Your agenda is usually on your computer,” he says after a moment of my fumbling around.
I open my mouth and close it, clicking onto the bright red calendar on my screen. Fuck, this is a disaster.
“Right. Have a seat.”
“I’ll stand,” he says, sipping his coffee and turning his head toward the small window.
My chest clenches at how cold he is, how aloof. So different from the man I left yesterday.
Of course, I get it. I would feel the same, too.
“Glenn, I’m really sorry,” I finally whisper. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
He says nothing, but his jaw tics slightly.
“Don’t need to rehash it. I’ve moved on, Mr. Wren. Think it’s best to keep things professional from here on out.”
I inhale sharply, and my eyes sting even worse. Oh, gods, do not cry. Do fucking not.
I nod, the lump in my throat almost making it impossible to speak.
Somehow, I quickly go over what we have planned for the day, sniffling at the end, much to my horror.
Glenn ignores it, just tosses his empty coffee in the trash can, and walks out. He doesn’t even slam the door, his quiet anger making everything ten times worse.
I sit there at my computer, my mind spinning. Fuck, I’ve messed up. I really have. But then again, I’m notorious for this. Even Vince thought so. It’s why he left.
You’re fucked up, Arbor. Get help.
“Fuck,” I murmur and then stare down at my phone.
I should call Attie. He knows me best, and he’s my only real friend. More like a brother since we met in foster care.
Attie might be human, and his advice is absolute trash, but he listens when I need it. And fuck do I need it now.
I pick up my phone, staring out the window as the workers arrive. Glenn, of course, directs them, their attention focused. He is a great team leader. Everyone respects him.
Except for me, it seems. I did something terrible, and I don’t think he’s going to forgive me.
I pick up my phone and quickly dial Attie. He picks up after two attempts.
“What?” he asks, his voice slightly groggy.
“What are you doing? Are you asleep?”
“Yeah, had a busy night getting fucked. What’s up? You never call during work unless it’s an emergency.”
“Well, it is,” I say, trying to wipe the image of him naked from my mind. But then again, that’s nearly impossible. He’s always being fucked or fucking. I’ve seen far too much of it, especially when I lived with him for a short time at his place in the Crimson Howlers’ compound.
He gets around there, for sure.
“Tell me. I’m listening.”
I hear a rustle and then the sound of the wind hitting the phone. He must have stepped outside to talk to me privately, which I appreciate. Especially after the last time I called about the pressure points. He was very unhelpful then.
“Well, I used the stone on Glenn—”
“The dude you pressure pointed?”
“Yeah. That guy. And well…he passed out.”
“As he should.”
I huff and blurt, “Yes, well, I left him with a pack of Howlers on his property! Just ran off like a little bitch. I didn’t even stick around to make sure he was okay.”
Attie is silent for a long moment, and I utter despondently, “And now he hates me. He’s so mad, he won’t even call me by my first name.”
“Yeah, well, you fucked up, dude. But I mean, that’s the outcome you wanted, right? For him to leave you alone?”
“Shut up. Yes. I know. But I shouldn’t have left him in danger. I just panicked, and I wasn’t thinking straight. There were three alphas headed my way, and I was in heat. Fuck!”
I run a hand through my hair and then drop my forehead to the desk.
“I messed up. I need to fix it. How do I fix this?”
“Dunno. Was just told you wanted me to listen. I have no advice.”
“Gods, Attie. Why do I even bother? This is all so fucked.”
“You bother because you like him. Maybe just apologize.”
“I did, but he didn’t want it. He rejected it.”
My mind conjures up his cold words, the stiff set of his jaw. He didn’t accept my apology at all. If anything, he spat it out into his coffee and then discarded it in the trash can.
It makes my stomach clench and my fingers curl into my palms.
“I’m such a mess. No one is ever going to love me.”
“Nah. I love you. Just not like that. But yeah, maybe grovel a little. Send him little gifts? A nude, maybe?”
I sigh and bang my forehead against the desk, trying to pound some reason into my brain. But it doesn’t work. I’m just as lost as before.
“And the scent serum is almost done, I think,” Attie says. “The one you asked me to make.”
I rest my cheek on the desk and sigh. The serum. Yes. The one that might solve some of my problems.
“You can come try it out this weekend, if you want.”
“Maybe. I’ll text you if I decide to drive all that way.”
“Sounds good, bro.” He pauses and then adds, “Can I go back to my fuck now?”
I roll my eyes and say a quick goodbye, not wanting to hear him fucking an alpha, or vice versa. Have had enough of that in my life.
I turn my gaze outside, watching Glenn move around the job site. He doesn’t glance at the trailer like he used to. He just works with his men as if I don’t exist.
I realize I don’t know how I’m going to fix this.
Or if he even wants me to.
Half of me expects him to leave once his shift is over and not wait for me. I wouldn’t have waited if I were him. But of course, he does the opposite of what I expect him to. He lingers. Not inside the trailer, but outside by his truck.
I want to scream at him to leave me alone, to go home and pretend I don’t exist. That’s what I deserve. But I bite my tongue. That inclination is just me being hysterical, stubborn, and mostly stems from self-loathing.
I decide to try to work as long as I can, but knowing he’s waiting outside for me results in me packing up my things early and heading out.
When I appear, he doesn’t even glance up from his phone.
“You don’t need to wait for me,” I say softly, tossing my briefcase into the backseat of my car.
Glenn’s eyes flick up to meet mine. “I’ll wait all the same.”
I shift on my feet. “Why?”
“Management asked me to.”
I don’t believe that, but I get what he’s trying to convey. His lingering is nothing personal. I mean nothing to him. It’s just work-related.
“Security should be here starting on Monday. I checked today.”
And they sure took their time. According to Jericho, paperwork kept getting shuffled around, and they lost my request more than once.
Seems fishy to me, but what the fuck do I know anymore? Everything I thought I knew is no longer relevant.
“Sounds good. I’ll wait all the same.”
My chest clenches, and I nod, pulling my door open.
“What are you up to tonight?”
His eyes flick to mine, but he says nothing. I feel small at this moment. I know I deserve it, but still. It hurts.
I bob my head, my eyes stinging slightly.
“Right, shouldn’t have asked. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I slide into the driver’s seat and quickly turn on the engine. I need to get out of here before I really start to sob. I don’t want him to see me this weak.