Chapter 16
Chapter
Sixteen
WINTER
Instead of having a nice little post orgasm nap, I’m rushed through a shower to head to a lawyer’s house about my aunt.
“She ruins everything,” I sigh under my breath as we walk up the stairs to the front door. I'm really trying not to pout, but it’s difficult.
“Yes, she does,” Bellamy agrees, holding my hand.
Abbott told me that this house belongs to Pack Mayor, and it’s kind of intimidating. My heart flip flops as the door opens to reveal a silver haired fox with light blue eyes and a grim smile. I’m not sure why we’re here, but I do trust Abbott’s judgment. It’s gotten Bell and I this far.
“I hear we have a bit of a situation,” he says, ushering us inside. “I’m Easton. You must be Winter and Bellamy. It’s nice to see you both looking well.”
I glance at Abbott, confused as to what he means.
“Pack Mayor helped us get the other omegas situated after we disabled The Hug Project,” he explains.
“Is that what we’re calling it now?” a man yells from deeper in the house.
“You know you love us!” Cassidy yells back, making my lips twitch in amusement. “He’s not as grouchy as he seems.”
“He’s really not,” Easton says with a snort. “Lyle is more concerned than anything. We all want to keep you safe.”
“That we do,” Shiloh murmurs, his hand on the small of my back as we walk through the house.
Bellamy continues to hold my hand on the other side of me, while I look around. It’s a manor style mansion, and makes me think of mint juleps in the summer and debutantes. The walls are covered in beautiful wallpaper, and the windows bring in just enough light so as to not hurt my eyes.
That is, it would if the sun was shining. Now, night is taking over the city, and the lamps offer a warm glow.
“You’ve been creating quite the murderous stir,” a man with a deep tan and kind brown eyes says as he stands. His salt and pepper hair is slicked back, his white shirt rolled up his forearms and perfectly pressed.
My mind picks up odd things when I’m anxious, and I notice the pleats in his gray pants as well as one, lone tattoo on his right inner arm. I can’t see what it says from here, but I tell myself to get my curiosity under control.
“That’s my fault,” Shiloh says with a shrug. “I hyperfixated too close to the sun, and the streets ran red. Oops?”
“God, you’re such an ass,” the alpha chuckles deeply. “Hello, Winter and Bellamy, right?”
At our nods, he adds, “I’m Lyle, and my bark is worse than my bite. I promise.”
“His bites are also reserved for us, so it’s fine,” Easton says, making me blush as I realize what he means.
“Wait for me,” an alpha calls, hurrying in with a tray of food.
“Does this mean we’re going to be here a while, Silas?” Ansel groans. “Do we really deserve to be fed and spanked?”
“So dramatic,” Silas chuckles. “We may as well be civilized and have something in case someone gets hungry. Please, sit.”
We all find places around the den to sit, and Shiloh stays nearby with his hand on my knee.
“I’m not really worried about the people who are disappearing around Savannah,” Lyle confesses. “If it’ll cleanse the filth from my city, so be it. My concern is for the missing person report that Easton found.”
“While Lyle works as a lawyer, I actually work with the police in the main headquarters,” Easton smirks. “I handle all of the paperwork that’s processed within the city, which gives me insider knowledge. I bury the things that need to be too.”
“So far, Easton was able to make sure the missing person report isn’t being followed up on since you’re both adults,” Lyle adds. “Essentially, he buried it. Winter, why would your aunt be doing this now?”
“Money,” I reply at the same time Bell says, “Madam Clara.”
“You think they’re working together?” Abbott asks.
No one really touches the spread Silas laid out, and I’d feel bad, but my stomach is currently in knots. This must be part of the Southern Hospitality I’ve heard about.
“My aunt sold Bell and I to Madam Clara,” I say, thinking about Abbott’s question. “Madam Clara is very possessive, and Bell and I made her a lot of money. While she never tagged us with trackers, she always seems to find us.”
“A group of people shut down the floating club we were sold to, and were going to help us get our lives back on track,” Bell explains.
“Once we were in the SUV, that should have been it. Unfortunately, Madam Clara managed to find us, change out our driver, and then we were stuck. There was no way to escape, not without one of us getting hurt.”
Both of us disassociate as we talk about the past. It’s the only way to get through it honestly, especially when I think about how close we were to freedom.
Things would have been very different though, and we may not have met Pack Tremaine. It’s a sobering thought.
“She’s invested in reselling you,” Silas says, playing with one of the rings on his fingers as he thinks. “This sounds like she has a grudge.”
It’s difficult not to believe that since she branded us.
“You could say that,” I sigh. “She sold us again a couple of months ago, with the agreement that should something happen, we would be returned to her. I don’t think the management was advised of that, based on our treatment.”
The skin around Lyle’s eyes pinches but he nods.
“Does Madam Clara think you’d reach out to your aunt?” he asks.
“There is no fucking way we would under normal conditions. However, if we were two omegas alone in the city, I can see where the expectation that we would reach out to the lesser evil would lie,” I say.
“I suppose I can see that,” Lyle agrees. “Thank god that’s not the situation. If Madam Clara is behind this, it might be smart to play into this.”
“Oh sweet baby Jesus,” Ansel says with a chuckle. “Are you seriously saying that you approve of us contacting her aunt so we can put her through our own version of Hell?”
“Graphic, but yes,” Lyle says. “My lawyer hat is hung up for the night, y’all. At least, the part that enjoys harassing you. I want to understand what will be necessary to keep Winter and Bellamy safe.”
“Madam Clara will never stop looking for us,” I breathe. “I hate to be dramatic—”
“Even if you were being dramatic, this is a safe place to do that,” Easton says. “Since Madam Clara is a swellheaded thundercunt, I think drawing her in is the only way to do that. Thoughts?”
“I think you’re right,” Abbott agrees. “We can pull Matilda’s cell phone number for you to call, Winter, unless you remember it?”
“I might,” I admit. “My mother ingrained it into my brain growing up in case of an emergency. I guess she’d consider this one.”
“My number comes up unknown when you call out,” he says, handing me his phone. I’m not used to carrying a cell phone, which means mine is still at the house.
I used to be attached to my cell at all times. It’s funny how things change.
Staring at the phone, I take a deep breath and dial Aunt Matilda’s number from memory. I’m going to need to act my ass off during this.
“Hello?” my aunt answers, making my heart stop in my chest. I don’t think she was always a terrible person. My mother wouldn’t have loved her if she was. Right?
“Who is this?” she demands.
“Aunt Matilda…it’s me,” I rasp, my anxiety manifesting into fear as I put the phone on speaker. “Are you still there?”
“Winter…. Where are you?” she asks. “And is your brother with you?”
My aunt has called Bellamy my brother since my mom married Alan. I think it helps her moral high horse. I do not regularly fuck my brother. I have many kinks, but that’s not one of mine.
“Yes,” I say tiredly. “He is.”
“Did she pick up?” Bellamy asks, leaning into our performance.
“I hear him,” Aunt Matilda says, laughing in disbelief. I can practically hear her counting her imaginary money for selling us again in her mind now. “Where are you?”
“We’re in Savannah,” I tell her. “I don’t know what to do, Aunt Matilda.”
Abbott rubs the side of his face in worry, while Ansel fists his hand and releases it. We’re all strung tight with anxiety and anticipation, hoping this goes our way.
“You come home,” she says. “You’re family. I…forgive you for running away from wherever you’re supposed to be right now.”
Gross. I think she really believes that Bell and I should be used as sex toys. Technically, that’s what we’ve been while being the puppets of our traffickers.
Never fucking again. I can see how people fall into this trap again and again without resources, and that’s what Bell and I are pretending to do.
“How?” I ask. “We don’t have any money, Aunt Matilda. We’re living on the streets and sleeping on park benches.”
Cassidy covers her face as she listens to me, forcing herself to breathe. God, this sucks. It simply reminds them of what Bell and my life could be without them.
“I’m living in Atlanta now,” Aunt Matilda says hesitantly. “I can come get you.”
“You moved?” I ask, my eyes somehow connecting with Lyle.
Grabbing a legal pad, he writes down two words before showing it to me: West Savannah. Nodding uncertainly, I watch as he tears off the page and then writes down an address.
“I moved shortly after you left,” she says nonchalantly. “I was tired of the cold. Since you’re nearby, we can all live together now. Isn’t that nice?”
Yeah, when pigs fly, lady.
“I think that’ll be nice,” I lie. “I heard of a place Bellamy and I can sleep tonight. It’s in West Savannah.”
Lyle nods quickly, pointing at the address again.
“Oh? Where’s that?” Aunt Matilda asks.
I give her the address, explaining we’ll be headed there soon.
“We’ve been on the streets for too long, and we’re tired,” I say. “I’m scared.”
I make sure to sound pathetic and sad. I think that I would be freaked out if I had to sleep on the streets. Bell and I have never been homeless before. The cage we typically were in wasn’t even gilded, but it kept people from touching us.
Until they dragged us out anyway.
A tear finds its way trailing down my cheek, surprising me in its journey. Fuck. I need to keep it together. Bellamy’s fingers dig into my thigh, my shorts allowing him plenty of access. It helps me focus my thoughts, and I drag in a breath.
“Aunt Matilda?” I ask in a tiny voice.
“I’m here. I was writing the address down. I’m not young anymore, Winter,” she snaps.
And there she is, people.
“I’m leaving now to get you. I’m closer than you think,” she says cryptically.
I just bet she is. My aunt has to be working with Madam Clara. It’s the only thing that makes sense to me.
“I’ll make sure you get where you belong,” she adds, hammering the final nail in the coffin of any familial feelings I’ve ever had for her. “Goodbye.”
“Goodbye,” I breathe, hanging up. “God, she’s fucking evil.”
The room full of alphas shudder as a group, and Easton drops back in his chair.
“I’m trying to remind myself not everyone is this terrible, but it’s very difficult,” he rasps. “You’re a very good actress, Winter.”
“It’s not hard with a little motivation,” I mutter.
Shiloh went very still during the call, but he picks me up and dumps me in his lap, wrapping his arms around me before he buries his face in my throat.
“She’s fine,” Bellamy reminds him, though his voice breaks at how badly the call affected him too. “We’re going to keep it that way, right?”
“Yes,” Abbott says. “We aren’t leaving without a plan. We’re also going to have you change and load you up with weapons.”
“That’s a terrible neighborhood,” Ansel tells Lyle.
“I know. I own the building,” Lyle says with a calculating smile. “All I ask is that you not blow it up, and that if there are pyrotechnics involved, I get to collect insurance on it when you’re done.”
“The warehouse is a dump,” Silas chuckles. “It would be better off as a pile of ash.”
“We do enjoy our fire,” Ansel sighs. “We promise to do the best we can. Thank you for your help. This is less stressful with support.”
Lyle glances at Easton, who stands. “I’m coming with you. Silas will listen to the police scanners for us,” he explains.
“Thank you,” Shiloh mumbles, standing with me in his arms. “This means a lot to us.”
“Karmic energy finds its way around,” Lyle says with a shrug. “May your bullets find their marks.”
“And may the dead stay that way,” Silas says.
It feels like both an omen and a prayer, but I’m okay with that.
The best things tend to have darkness even within the light.