Chapter 37 Scotty
Scotty
Right after the fight…
By the time we got to Millie's place, I felt like someone had taken my heart out back, beaten the absolute shit out of it with a hockey stick, and then shoved it back inside me upside down just to see if I'd notice.
I followed them upstairs on autopilot, which felt like a generous term for what was happening, because I wasn't entirely convinced my brain was still online.
My legs were moving, but it felt less like I was walking and more like I was being aggressively escorted by gravity and poor life choices.
If I stopped, I had a strong feeling one of them would just push me the rest of the way like a defective shopping cart with a squeaky wheel.
Millie unlocked the apartment and flicked on the lights, took one look at me, and immediately swore under her breath.
"Bedroom. Now," she ordered, already turning toward the hallway.
I didn't argue. Arguing required energy, and I had exactly none left. I let her steer me into her room and stood there while she dug through her drawers.
"Comfy clothes," she muttered, tossing things over her shoulder. "If we're having a breakdown, we're at least doing it in comfort."
She tossed me a pair of sleep shorts and one of her oversized shirts. I took them to the bathroom and shut the door behind me, leaning on the counter for a second like I needed to anchor myself to something solid before I floated away entirely.
I scrubbed my face harder than necessary, like I could erase the entire night if I just applied enough pressure. I very deliberately avoided the mirror because I already knew I wasn't going to like what I saw.
Changing took ten seconds. Processing anything took significantly longer, so I just… didn't.
When I came back out, Ella was on the floor in front of the TV, dumping an armful of pillows into a pile, surrounded by enough blankets to survive a small ice age. She moved with purpose, like this was a well-practiced emergency drill, and honestly, it probably was.
I had a history.
Her strawberry shortcake scent had already soaked into the pile, warm and comforting, and something about the whole setup made a tiny smile tug at my mouth despite the emotional hurricane currently happening in my chest.
She was building us a little makeshift nest.
I don't deserve my best friends.
Millie banged around in the kitchen, yanking doors open and shut while muttering under her breath about my dad and how he could go ahead and eat a bag of dicks.
It should've made me laugh more than it did. I managed a weak smile at Ella anyway, because even with everything inside me feeling jagged and wrong, there was something about watching my two best friends immediately go into full crisis mode for me that made it a little easier to breathe.
At least when everything else was falling apart, I could always count on them to be there for me.
I sank onto the couch and pulled my legs up under me, tucking into myself. Millie appeared with drinks and a bowl of chips like she was hosting the saddest sleepover in existence.
The apartment smelled like a mix of Millie's apple pie and Ella's strawberry shortcake scent, making the whole place feel warm, safe, and familiar.
I picked up a chip and stared at it for a second like I wasn't entirely sure how food worked anymore. Eating felt optional. Existing felt like something I was doing purely out of habit at this point.
I wasn't okay. Not even remotely. But I was here, and they were here, and for the moment, that was apparently enough to keep me from completely falling apart, which felt fake, but I was taking it.
I just needed them to keep talking, keep touching me and keep me anchored to something that wasn't the absolute mess currently happening inside my head.
Then my phone buzzed on the coffee table, and I looked down, saw Crash Daddy on the screen, and immediately burst into tears all over again.
Oh, for fuck's sake.
Ella sat back on her heels and looked at me carefully. "You need to talk to them, Scotty."
"And tell them what?" I wailed, my voice wobbling.
"Sorry for being greedy and wanting everything?
Sorry for not staying away when I knew I should have?
Sorry that I made their lives harder by existing in the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong feelings?
Sorry, you were both amazing, and I still ditched you like a panicked idiot? "
Millie picked up my phone before I could grab it and throw it across the room. "Girl," she said, looking at me over the top of it, "I love you, but you are being a fucking idiot."
"How am I being an idiot?"
"Because you're sitting here acting like any of this is your fault!"
"Because it is my fault!" I shouted, the words ripping out of my chest. "Dad never would have threatened their careers if I'd just set boundaries from the start, if I'd stayed away when I knew I should have, if I hadn't gone and—" Fallen in love with them.
"Gone and what?" Ella pressed when I cut myself off.
I shook my head hard enough to make it ache.
"It doesn't fucking matter," I muttered, but the dam was already cracking.
"Hunter told me he couldn't imagine playing for another team.
They love the Wolves. They love it here.
If Dad actually goes through with any of the shit he said tonight, it'll be because of me. "
"Jesus fucking Christ," Millie muttered.
She crouched down in front of me and grabbed my shoulders hard enough that I had to look at her.
"If your father does that, it is not because of you," she said firmly.
"It is because he is being a cunt waffle.
Do not sit here and take responsibility for his hangups just because he's too emotionally constipated to carry them himself. "
A wet, ugly snort escaped me, which immediately turned into a full Omega whine when the phone started ringing again.
This time it was Grumpy Wolf.
The universe clearly wanted me to suffer.
I collapsed into the nest of blankets, and they immediately flanked me on both sides, pressing close as if their bodies could hold my broken pieces together.
"What if they decided I'm not worth it?" I cried into the pillow.
Ella's mouth dropped open in pure disbelief. "Were you there tonight? Were you listening? Those Alphas looked your father right in the eyes and told him they picked you. Not their fucking careers."
"It's one thing saying it and another thing meaning it," I muttered, sitting up and grabbing the drink Millie handed me. I took a big sip like alcohol was going to fix anything.
"And what if they meant it?" Millie asked eventually.
I glared at her because that was not a helpful question when I was trying to spiral in peace. As tears kept slipping down my face and the alcohol made everything a little blurrier around the edges, I told myself this was for the best. A smaller hurt now to avoid a bigger hurt later.
Get out before I was in too deep.
Which was fucking dumb, considering I was so far in at this point I could barely see the shore.
"It's not fair on them either, Scotty," Ella told me.
"Do you know what I would give to have Alphas who looked at me the way Hunter and Ryder look at you?
To have someone defend me like that? To make me feel like I mattered more than everyone else in the room?
To have help with Luka?" She crossed her arms and stared at me.
"I know you're hurting, but so are they. You're being a bitch."
I stared back at her.
Nobody ever called me a bitch except Millie, and she usually managed to make it sound affectionate. Ella, on the other hand, looked me dead in the eye and kept going.
"You love them. I know you love them. You know you love them. Fuck your dad and what he wants. If he can't support what makes you happy, that's his problem. You deserve to be happy."
We were in a full stare-off. Me trying to process the fact that sweet little Ella had just verbally body-checked me into next week while also somehow making a very valid point, and her daring me to fight back.
The phone started ringing again before I could find the words to answer her, and maybe it was the alcohol, or Ella going full tiny warrior on me.
Or maybe it was just the fact that hearing from them hurt less than not hearing from them would.
Either way, I grabbed the phone from Millie and answered.
"Hunter," I sobbed into the phone.
"Scotty," he whispered, like his heart was fucking breaking.
Just like mine was.
"Did she pick up? Fuck, Hunt, put it on speaker." Ryder's voice followed, louder but just as frayed. "Sweetheart, where are you? Please let us come get you and take you home."
They didn't sound mad. They sounded sad and desperate, and so relieved to hear my voice.
Both of them were talking over each other while trying to calm me down when I inevitably made a pathetic little noise again, their voices dropping instinctively into those low Alpha tones that made my Omega melt.
"Baby Girl," Hunter cooed, his voice rough and gentle all at once, a quiet purr threading through it as he tried to calm me down. "I fucking miss you. I need you. Tell me where you are, and I can come make everything better."
"N-not tonight," I managed, wiping my face with the sleeve of Millie's giant shirt. "I'm with Millie and Ella, and I just… I need time. I need a minute to process everything."
"Dammit, Scotty," Ryder growled, and he sounded like he was about two seconds away from losing it himself. "You're killing me, Sweetheart. Are you okay? Do you need anything?"
"Can we send pizza?" Hunter added.
That got a tiny, watery laugh out of me, which honestly felt like a personal achievement at this point.
"If I give you the address, you'll show up with the pizza."
"Abso-fucking-lutely," he said without hesitation. "I am fully prepared to weaponize carbs to get to you."
"If you don't tell us where you are, we'll figure it out by morning," Ryder promised, and his tone sent a tiny, traitorous thrill straight through me despite everything.
"I told you not to hide from us, Omega. You belong with us.
And we'll do whatever the fuck it takes to convince you to pick us. Because we sure as fuck pick you."