Chapter 9 #3
“Nope, no you’re not. The nest is in the attic, but it’s clean. The concern lies in the fact that the air is probably stale,” Abbott says. “Do you like this comforter?”
“What?” Bell asks, confused.
It’s a gorgeous cotton patchwork quilt in greens and blues. It reflects both my and Bell’s favorite colors, though there’s no way they’d know that. The room is beautiful, and we don’t deserve it.
It feels as if there’s too much space after existing in a cage like an animal for far too long. However, these alphas would be horrified to hear that, so the suggestion of the floor was the first thing that popped out of my mouth.
“Do you like it?” Cassidy asks, pressing her cheek against his. Bellamy sighs, rubbing against her soft skin, another clear sign that we’re very affected by her as he scent marks her.
How anyone wouldn’t want her is beyond me.
“It’s pretty,” he murmurs. “It looks soft—-wait!”
Abbott pulls the blanket off the bed, fucking it all up as our jaws drop. Bell and I used to be meticulous about our beds. Way before we presented, the corners had to be perfect, and we changed the sheets once a week.
Granted, we tended to sleep in the same bed, despite having connected rooms. I always had a feeling our parents knew, they just didn’t care.
“You messed up the bed,” I hiss, my shock enough to override my anxiety.
It’s funny how that happens, isn’t it?
Abbott simply smirks, coming over to drape the blanket around Bellamy and my shoulders. Ooh, it’s perfect. It’s so damn soft.
Bell moans softly, and the alphas in the room still as we both fawn over the blanket.
“Shit, that was hot,” Ansel whispers. “Abbott, give them your credit card. I want their nest to be perfect so I can hear that sound again.”
“We don’t need stuff,” I pout. “Well, maybe a pillow would help.”
“Have you ever built a nest?” Abbott asks.
“No. Why?” I ask.
“You don’t know what you’ll need if you’ve never done it,” he says sagely.
“I mean…I guess?” Bellamy allows, watching as Shiloh grabs two pillows from the bed.
Ugh, now it’s all lopsided and sad.
“We need to get them out of here before Winter cries because you fucked up the bed,” Cassidy accuses them. “I brought them up here because I thought they might be tired.”
A yawn breaks out of me at just the suggestion, and I have to admit that she’s right. Now that the food is settling, I’m finding that I’m exhausted.
“Mmm. I could nap,” I admit sleepily.
“Two more flights to get to the nest,” Shiloh warns as we leave.
“The air conditioning in this house is amazing, so you shouldn’t be hot upstairs.
If you want to crack a window, go for it.
I’m not worried about security with it being so high up.
Though, if you want to make it a habit, I will happily find a way to secure it. ”
He’s really serious about this. I vaguely remember that Abbott killed everyone in the room, and they discussed how to handle the rest of the building. Shiloh’s insistence to make a murder list also sounds like he plans to follow through.
I’m not scared of this, simply overwhelmed. Maybe it’ll take dangerous people to want to keep us safe.
My thighs are burning as I get to the top of the house, but the tiny stairwell that leads to the attic feels like a hug. I don’t know what it is about small spaces that makes me happy but I can feel Bellamy’s excitement too as we finally walk into the attic.
From the low roof, to the exposed beams, it feels perfect.
“I love it,” I whisper before realizing the words have come out of my mouth.
While the air is a tiny bit stale from being shut up, I don’t mind. There’s also no dust anywhere, which confuses me as I turn toward the stairs. Pack Tremaine crowds there, refusing to come any closer.
“This is your space,” Abbott announces. “We won’t come inside without permission unless there’s an emergency. We have a cleaning lady that comes in every few days. We can make sure she doesn’t come up here anymore if you want.”
“I managed to get a mattress up here before things got really rough this week, but not much else,” Shiloh admits.
“When you wake up, I want you to go shopping,” Abbott says, pulling out a black card.
“You need your phone,” Cassidy admonishes as he moves to pull that out as well. “Take mine.”
“Don’t you need it?” Bellamy asks.
“Nope,” she shrugs. “I’m with everyone who would immediately need me right now. Everyone else has Abbott’s number.”
Bellamy steps closer, the blanket slipping off his shoulder as he walks.
I snuggle into the warmth of the comforter at the same time that I mourn how far my stepbrother is from me, loving the way the muted sunshine fills the room with light.
There’s some kind of film over the windows that keeps it from getting too bright in here.
It’s genius.
“There’s no code on it to unlock it,” Cassidy says easily. “If you need anything, Abbott’s number is on the phone. There’s a lot of steps to come downstairs. Calling is easier.”
“It feels really weird to build a nest with your money,” Bellamy admits.
“Our money,” Shiloh shrugs. “Cass’ shopping addiction couldn’t even put a dent on Abbott’s card. Make this room what you want it to be.”
Pillows are shifted into Bell’s hands, and it's clear the alphas are ready to leave to nap.
“Um. I have a question,” I say, back to thinking about the gift from Bret that keeps on giving.
I want to know what it is exactly, and how it could possibly fuck with my and Bell’s bodies. There’s power in knowledge. I don’t want to play fast and loose with my health anymore.
Not when people are trying so much to help Bell and I. This nest is a huge investment in our mental health.
“Anything,” Cassidy says easily.
“Do you think Bell and I could talk to the doctor who was here earlier?” I ask, my fingers rubbing over my neck again.
“Yes,” Abbott says simply. “I can ask him to come over tonight if you’d like?”
“Please,” I say, meeting Bellamy’s gaze.
“Someone implanted something in us that needs to be removed,” Bell says.
“Heat suppressant and other shit Bret didn’t completely explain.
It could be starting to wear off, because I remember there were scent suppressants in that cocktail.
The girls used to talk when they didn’t think anyone could hear them. ”
“I see,” Abbott says. His face doesn’t bely any emotion, but his brown eyes get darker with anger.
“He’s dead,” I tell him, hoping that’ll help. “Someone named Makayla blew up his cock I heard.”
The alphas blink at my crass words before they grin.
“I hope she made it hurt,” Shiloh growls. “I’ll have to add him to the murder list so I have the pleasure of putting a check mark next to it.”
“He likes his lists,” Ansel shrugs. “Do you need anything else?”
“I don’t think so,” Bellamy admits.
“Add a small fridge to your shopping list, please,” Abbott says. “There’s a bathroom up here as well.”
“It’s perfect,” I say. “Thank you.”
“Sleep well,” Cassidy says. It feels like this is a code, because they all slowly turn and begin to walk down the stairs as they murmur goodbyes.
“Oh, and Bellamy, Winter?” Abbott asks, stopping abruptly.
“Yes?” Bell asks, his hand fisting as he waits for someone to destroy this dream.
“Consider this our official bid to court you both. Just because you’re our scent matches, doesn’t mean there won’t be romance too,” he says.
As the door closes at the bottom of the stairs, Bellamy and I stare at each other with a pillow in each of our hands.
“Is this real life?” I ask.
“Yeah, Beloved. It is,” he says. “I don’t know how though.”
Our socked feet slide over the floor as we approach the bed, and we crawl onto it before I pull the blanket over Bellamy as well. The pillows are cool when we put our heads down, and we both moan happily.
I don’t know where he put the phone or card, but we won’t need it for at least a few hours.
“How long do you think it’ll take before I can trust this?” I ask softly.
Bell smiles sadly at me before he tugs me against him. We’re now sharing a pillow, not that it bothers either of us. Sighing, I bask in the safety of his arms around me, and feel myself losing the fight with consciousness.
“One day, it’ll just feel right. It could be two weeks or two years, I just can’t tell you,” he says honestly. “Sleep with me. I’ll do my best to keep away the nightmares, Beloved.”
“You always do,” I rasp.
Sometimes, it’s enough, and others the darkness claims us.