Chapter 26
ADAM
My phone went off.
Again.
It buzzed across the dining room table, vibrating my silverware enough to make it rattle. I drew in a deep breath and held it until the phone went silent and still. I waited for the call to go to voicemail, and then I exhaled slowly.
I looked over at Fletcher, who was holding his toast halfway to his mouth, watching me with concern in his green eyes. “Maybe you should—”
“It’s fine,” I bit out. “I’ll call him back after breakfast. He should know better than to call this early.” I grumbled under my breath, but when I risked a glance at the clock, I realized that “this early” wasn’t quite that early at all.
It was half-past ten AM.
Before Fletcher came into my life, I was quite the early riser. My father no doubt thought I fell off the face of the planet, since I hadn’t so much as texted my family in weeks, let alone gone over and spent any time over there.
I couldn’t help it, though. I’d had my head in the clouds…and now it was time to be yanked back down to earth.
“Ugh.” I pushed my plate away, half finished but no longer hungry.
Fletcher nibbled at his toast, his red hair tousled from sweat and sleep, a reminder of last night’s romp. He looked at me soulfully. “Adam. What if it’s important?”
“With my father, everything is important, but it’s never important enough to matter,” I told him, matter-of-fact.
“Well, what if someone died?” he asked, just as my phone went off again. I gritted my teeth in annoyance, my inner-wolf growling and stalking along the inside of my soul. Fletcher shot me a look and then mouthed the words, “Answer it.”
Cursing, I stood up fast enough to knock my chair back with a clatter. I snatched my cell and swiped across the screen, before answering my father’s call as calmly and collectedly as I could. Which was a feat, when I wanted to rip into him about leaving me the fuck alone.
Instead, he was the one tearing me a new asshole.
“Where the hell have you been?” my father demanded, a razor’s edge to his tone. “I’ve been calling you for days now, and nothing! Not even a single text in response! I know I raised you better than that.”
“I’ve been busy,” I ground out, choosing my words carefully. “Work has been stressful. You know how it is.”
His snort reverberated through the phone line, straight into my bones. My hands began to shake. “That’s a bullshit excuse and we both know it. What were you doing just now that was so important that—”
“I was having breakfast, Father,” I retorted. “Am I not allowed to nourish my body now?” I hated my tone. Hated my attitude and all of this built-up anger, but I was so damn frustrated. At his silence, I took a deep breath and tried again. “Sorry. I’m stressed. How is Mother?”
“She’s fine,” he snapped. “Everyone’s just fine, but it would be nice if you’d come around for dinner every so often, Adam. We’ve missed you at the last couple of full-moon gatherings as well. Have you been letting your wolf out to run, at least?”
I hesitated, realizing that…no. No, I hadn’t. Not in weeks, but I also hadn’t really felt the urge or the need to, because my wolf was happy when Fletcher was near. Mate…
But I couldn’t exactly tell my father that.
I sighed softly. “No. I’ve been neglecting him for work, I guess,” I admitted, which wasn’t entirely a lie.
“That’s no good at all, Adam,” he said, and I could hear it—the shades of disappointment in his voice that reminded me that I was a bad son. “Listen. We have things we need to discuss.”
And there it was.
“Why don’t you come home for lunch and we can go over them together. Man to man.”
I closed my eyes. Held my breath. Counted to five. I wanted to refuse. I wanted to tell him that I had no intentions of doing any such thing, but I also knew I couldn’t keep pushing this off forever.
“Okay,” I relented. “That sounds good. What time?”
“Does noon work?” he asked.
“Yeah.” Not that I’d be hungry, but I also knew I wouldn’t be able to eat with Father around anyway. Staring down his nose at me, judging my every move. “Don’t eat too many of those, or you’ll get fat, then no Omega worth having will want you.”
I shook my head, trying to shake the thought.
“Good. I’ll let your mother know so she can make those little cucumber sandwiches you always liked so much.”
“Great. See you at noon then,” I said with as much fake cheer as I could muster, then hung up before he could get another word in. I dropped my phone into the recesses of my jeans pocket and let my head thunk back against the wall.
“Fuck…”
Fletcher hadn’t moved from his spot at the table, but his attention was locked on me. His forehead was furrowed with concern, his lips curving into a frown.
“Adam?” As if he could feel the distress coursing through my veins, he stood and came over to me slowly, like approaching a wild animal.
But when he opened his arms to me, inviting me in for a hug, the ice that was quickly forming a shell around my heart melted.
I pushed off the wall and collided with him, sinking into his embrace. I wrapped my arms around his body and he hugged me tightly, his face tucked against the crook of my neck.
“Everything’s gonna be okay,” he whispered, sounding more sure of it than I felt in that moment. “You’ll see.”
The two of us watched TV until it was time for me to go. I didn’t want to leave, but I knew if I kept putting Father off, he’d start pulling strings and I refused to be his marionette.
“Good luck.” Fletcher leaned up and kissed me.
“Thanks,” I said. “I’m going to need it.”
Because I already had a pretty good idea of what my father wanted to talk about—and sure enough, my hunch was correct.
The minute I sat down in the overstuffed leather chair in Father’s study, a little plate of cucumber sandwiches and iced tea sitting atop his desk, he launched into a tirade about how I wasn’t “getting any younger” and that I was heir to the Silverthorn pack, as well as the successor of Sinclair-Westerix & Co.
I held my tongue, even though that meant I had to bite it hard enough that I was pretty sure my taste buds would be forever damaged.
Father went on. “You’re a young Alpha, Adam, but you’ll need to be married soon in order to inherit the company, in case I were to pass away.”
I scoffed softly. “Father, you’re healthy as a horse and in great shape. You’re not dying anytime soon,” I pointed out. “I don’t think I need to get married. Besides, we already agreed that we would worry about this after I turned twenty-five. I’m twenty-three and—”
“Yes, but it won’t hurt to start dating wealthy young Omegas now,” Father said, obviously not taking no for an answer. “You never know who you might hit it off with.”
“Father, I—”
“Adam Allen, you listen to me. I am doing this for your own good.” His voice took on a sharp, loud tone that made my inner-wolf whimper.
Bastard, using his Alpha prowess to get me to cow down to him.
“My father picked my Omega out for me, and your mother has been a good, loyal partner, has she not? She has given me three beautiful, brilliant children, after all.”
I bit down on my tongue even harder, tasting the coppery tinge of blood.
I held it all in—that Father had cheated on her my entire life, that he had mistresses on the side, that he fucked his assistants, that Mother was so miserable in her marriage that she took pills to cope with her depression and anxiety, to disassociate from the real world.
I didn’t say a word.
Father sighed, long-sufferingly. “At least go on a few dates,” he said. “I have my eye on quite a few nice young women who are well-off and well-bred. At least take them out and meet them.”
“We’ll see,” I replied. “No promises.”
“Adam.”
“I still have two years,” I barked, rising to my full height to tower over him in his high-backed executive chair. “We agreed. Twenty five. I’m too young to get married. Are we done here?”
Father growled, his fangs showing, but he relented. “Fine. Are you at least going to take one of your mother’s sandwiches? She worked hard on those for you.”
Without a word, I grabbed two and stormed out of the study. I swung past the kitchen on my way out. Mother was wiping down the counters with a damp cloth, her motions slow and mechanical. I didn’t miss her glassy stare or her vacant smile as I leaned in and kissed her on the cheek.
“Thank you for the sandwiches,” I told her, squeezing her hand. She turned her head to one side, almost like she couldn’t remember, but she smiled nonetheless. “I need to get going, but I love you.”
“Love you,” she parroted.
By the time I got out to my car, I was angry, and by the time I made it home, my hands gripped the wheel so hard my knuckles bled white and my heart was pounding heavy in my chest.
I went inside, slamming the door so hard behind me that the pictures rattled in their frames. I paused in the doorway—don’t be like him—and took a deep breath. Don’t take your bad mood out on Fletcher.
I found the Omega where I’d left him, on the couch cuddled up in blankets like a cozy little raccoon. I flopped down beside him with a loud, frustrated groan.
“Family sucks,” I announced.
“You wanna talk about it?” Fletcher’s green eyes were gentle and soft, like he truly cared about making me feel better, but I really didn’t think rehashing my father’s plans to marry me off to my “illegal” boyfriend would make either of us feel too great.
“No.” I sighed. “Just Father being Father. Same shit, different day. Sometimes I wish I could just run away from everything and start my life all over again. Brand new state, brand new name. You know?”
Fletcher smiled. “I get it.”
“Ugh.” I let my head fall back against the cushions and rubbed at my temple with one hand. I looked up again when I felt Fletcher stand. At first, I thought maybe he was going to fetch a drink or something.
That’s when he gently placed his hands on my knees and spread my thighs, kneeling between them. Heat prickled across my cheeks at the small but cheeky smile that spread over his face as he gazed up at me through thick lashes.
“You know what would make your day a little bit better, though?” he mused, biting down on his bottom lip.
I raised my brow and he let out a soft laugh, then cupped me through my slacks. His hand was warm against my body, and I was pretty sure he was right.
Fletcher was exactly the balm I needed to soothe my bad afternoon.
“Please, show me,” I murmured, reaching down to trail fingers through his hair.
So he did.