34. Chloe
CHAPTER 34
CHLOE
As soon as I got home, I grabbed my noise canceling headphones, a bowl of ice cream (pistachio flavored—for obvious reasons I wasn’t in the mood for vanilla, chocolate or strawberry), a handful of brownies and a poptart for good measure.
In short, I had everything I needed for my well-deserved mental breakdown.
Instead of perfect solitude, however, a knock came at my bedroom door.
When I saw who opened it, I groaned internally.
Papa Diesel was like a wall of towering six-pack, with just about every spare inch of skin on his chest inked up. He had an intricate tattoo of a dragon bursting out of the waves, mouth wide open and fangs bared—like it was ready to charge off his skin and launch straight into battle.
Honestly, if I was in any kind of physical danger, I might have my fingers crossed that Papa Diesel was the first one to get there. I’m sure he could tear through my enemies like a bowling ball scatters pins.
If only my enemies were more interesting than an ornery middle-aged dentist with more sarcasm than sense, then I might be in luck.
But I wasn’t.
Papa Diesel had the dubious honor of being my biological father. Though his DNA wasn’t a strike for or against him or anything.
In some packs, the kids were somewhat closer to their biological parent—which was kind of bullshit. They were all my dads. We were a family, and it didn’t matter which one of my parent’s blood flowed through my veins.
But out of all my dads, Papa Diesel was by far the worst at helping his kids handle their emotions.
Okay honestly, my bio dad sort of sucked at it.
It wasn’t because he had the emotional range of a drowning slug. No. Papa Diesel felt emotions, same as everyone else. It was more because he was about as good at talking about his feelings as a canary was at bench pressing two hundred pounds.
“Hey Peanut,” Papa Diesel, ruffled my hair with his big meaty hand. Like I was four.
“Hey Papa,” I tried and failed to keep all the stress of the day out of my voice.
“Okay, what’s wrong, Peanut.” Papa Diesel frowned at me. “Is it about that dentist? Because that was just your first job. They’re not all going to be like that. Don’t blame yourself for working for an asshole.”
Maybe it was because Papa Diesel was trying so hard. The fact that he was trying… even asking me how I was feeling right now was a big stretch for him.
Maybe it was just because I’d worked so hard for so many months… neglecting self care in pursuit of a dream that was now looking more like a dead end.
Maybe it was because I wanted my scent matches… but how could I go back to them now, after I’d fucked everything up?
…barely a week ago, I left them because I needed to go and find myself. How was I supposed to come running back now… when it turns out the self I was trying to find, ended up being shitty.
After I hurt them… the men that I loved… and for what?
All I know is this—everything unleashed in a flood.
My eyes went from moisture prickling at the corner to trickles pouring down that I couldn’t stop. My nose was doing that thing where it was starting to feel drippy. I was in a desperate need of tissues before gross snot entered into the equation.
All I wanted was to feel like a hot mess—not look like one too.
But now it was too late, and I couldn’t stop the tears. They seemed to be pouring down.
I tried to get my words out and explain everything to Papa Diesel, but I might have been hyperventilating a little.
“It-t’s just… all that studying, and all those tests. It was so much… and for what? I don’t know why I did that, and I’m fucking everything up. And now they’re going to hate me, and I don’t know what to do.” Once I got the words out, I rubbed my forehead, as if that would help me hold in all of the emotions that were threatening to drown me.
Why did I do all that?
Why hadn’t I just talked to them about working? Instead of pushing them away…
How did I manage to fuck up my entire life, within a week of graduating from the Institute?
Had I really turned my back on the men I loved… in order to work for a minimum wage job?
By now, I was practically sobbing. It was bad. Like I was using the top of my shirt as a make-shift tissue. I’d probably have to throw the whole thing out by the time I got my emotions under control.
Papa Diesel was holding up his hands, like dealing with his emotional omega daughter was somehow worse than a terrorist extremist negotiation.
“It’s okay, Peanut.” He was backing away, even as he attempted to reassure me. “How about I go get your Mother?
Soft hands started rubbing my back. Hands that I knew.
“Hey Chloe-cutie,” Mother crooned in her soft voice.
I wanted to hug her and bury my face in her warmth and let all of this mess disappear—except that she was like a thousand months pregnant and I didn’t want to like, give her affection that was too aggressive and trigger early labor or something.
I sniffed loudly and rubbed some of the tears out of my eyes to get a good look at her instead. Mother sat by my side and Daddy-Gee was next to her, providing support. Perhaps more than just emotional support. It looked like he was holding her arm so that she wouldn’t go toppling over. I guess balancing gets trickier when one knows that they have feet, but can’t see them. Or maybe Mother had one of the dads by her side in case her fetus decided it wanted to pop out early.
“What’s going on, my Chloe-cutie-pie?” Mother looked tired. She was always tired this late into pregnancy. But her concern was still warm and comforting.
If anyone could help me sort out this mess that I’d gotten myself into, it was Mother. No matter how exhausted she was from growing yet another sibling, Mother would give me good advice.
I’d worked my ass off for the entire Institute program, and finished my online Associates degree a year early. Why the fuck did I feel such a burning need to do all that?
I don’t know who I was trying to prove myself to—it didn’t seem like anyone cared how academically accomplished I was. All I’d managed to do was to stress myself out.
I’d thought that working at my dream job would make it all worth it. I had even filled one notebook with detailed plans for what I was going to do with the money… Maybe in a couple of years I’d even be able to afford to go on a vacation to some vacant island in the middle of nowhere.
But obviously, all of those plans had gone to shit. All that remained of all that effort were the stains left behind on the bottom of the toilet bowl after my dreams had been flushed away.
“Why did no one ever tell me that a secretary job would be so awful?” I crossed my arms around my chest, my gaze fixed on the unfinished bowl of ice cream on my desk that was slowly melting into a sad puddle.
Daddy-Gee looked like he was struggling not to laugh, hiding his laugh behind a coughing fit.
“Oh, Sweetheart,” Mother cooed, elbowing Daddy-Gee sharply in the side. He yelped and got himself together. “Were you expecting the job to be a bit more exciting?”
“Well, no,” I admitted.
Okay. So honestly, I took this job because I was sick of all the excitement and was ready for something stable and boring.
I just wasn’t expecting the quiet and boring job to be so… well, boring .
Well, I would have been fine if boring was the only problem. When that job wasn’t boring, it was psychologically damaging. Why did people think it was okay to take all of their aggression out on receptionists?
Their poor planning and lack of communication skills were not my fault.
“Ugh, I can’t believe that I gave up my scent matches to work at a dental office,” I ran both my fingers through my hair, mussing it up.
“Wait, what? Since when has my Baby got scent matches?” Daddy-Gee was looking at the door, like he was just about ready to go track down my alphas and beat them up just for existing.
Mother silenced him with a sharp, “Genesis!”
“Sorry, Honey,” Daddy-Gee muttered.
“Can you tell us what happened?” Mother soothed a palm down my forehead, smoothing down my hair.
“I thought that all I wanted was a bit of peace and quiet. This job was supposed to be that. It was going to be the start of a brand-new life. I was going to prove myself. But it wasn’t quiet, it was filled with assholes, and I hated every minute of it.”
Mother nodded encouragingly, showing me that she was listening.
“And it’s one thing that I have to give up on my career dreams. Just like last week, I practically broke up with my scent matches so that I could start working there.” I’d given up everything… any chance for a social life back at the Institute. Vast chunks of my mental health. Worst of all, I’d hurt my alphas… so that I could fetch coffee for asshole dentists.
“Chloe… just because they’re your scent matches doesn’t mean that you need to feel forced to be with them.”
Mother probably thought that I was using the work thing as an excuse not to bond them… which couldn’t be further from the truth.
I shook my head. “It’s not like that. I love them.”
“Well then, is there any reason why you can’t go be with your alphas?” Mother was tilting her head to the side as she pursed her lips. It was as if she could see the dots in this conversation and had no idea how they connected.
Ha.
So that was a great question Mother brought up. Why couldn’t I just be with my alphas?
Even though it was hard to admit it, even to myself… the an swer was yes. Though I’d tried to pretend like everything was fine… I did have genuine concerns about being with my scent matches.
I took a deep breath, bracing myself to be vulnerable. This was a safe space. Who was better than Mother to help me sort through my deepest and darkest fears?
“You know how my scent is vanilla? They are chocolate, strawberry and banana. Together we literally smell like a neapolitan banana split.”
Mother pinched her lips together, forcing herself not to react.
Daddy-Gee didn’t have that kind of restraint.
“That sounds really serious… ” then he dropped the sarcastic tone and whatever else he was going to say as Mother glared at him.
Okay, my parents weren’t acting like the scent thing was a big deal… Maybe I was overreacting about that…
But that wasn’t even the biggest issue.
“That’s not even the worst part. Their last name is Fanny. If I accepted them… we would all be known as the Fanny Pack.” Tears started to well up, stinging my eyes again… even after I thought I’d cried them all out. “I’m going to be known as the omega from the Fanny Pack.”
Mother winced each time I said their pack name. So, I knew that things weren’t looking good. But I really knew that I was right to be concerned about the last name when Daddy-Gee didn’t even crack a dumb joke about it.
“You know, it’s alright for the pack to choose the name of one of the other alphas, if they all agreed on it. It doesn’t need to be based on the Pack lead.” Daddy-Gee’s voice was grim, any hint of laughter completely gone.
“They already offered me that.” I shook my head. If the solution was that simple, I wouldn’t be sitting on my bed, bawling my eyes out.
I probably wouldn’t have been so quick to tell Kain that I needed space.
In all honesty, if things were just a little different, I probably would have agreed to move in with them, like I wanted to.
“Besides the Fanny twins there’s one other alpha I’m scent matched to. His name is…” I wiped the rest of the tears away. I just had to say it. “His name is Brutus Back. I’m not going to ask them to change their name just to become… the Back Pack.”
I didn’t even know that there was a pack name that was worse than the Fanny pack. Couldn’t even have imagined it until I heard Brutus’ last name.
How the fuck did I end up with an alternative name that was even worse, when I’d started with the Fanny pack?
“Chloe, I’m not going to lie… neither of those choices are ideal.” Mother took my hand in hers, squeezing it in reassurance. “But I also know this. I didn’t raise my daughter to be a quitter. You told me that you love them. Do you really want to give up your alphas because they have silly last names?”
I squeezed Mother’s hand back.
Mother was right.
Did I want to be known as Chloe, former member of the Stryker pack, former omega Valedictorian… now a part of the Fanny pack? Or even worse, the Back pack?
Obviously not.
But did I want to leave them over it?
No.
I couldn’t. Even now. I missed them.
If I was being completely honest with myself, all I really wanted to do was to reach out to them. Find them. Apologize to them until I’d fixed what I’d broken between us.
As soon as she asked me the question, I knew in my heart what I had to do.
If they even wanted to see my sorry ass after I’d gone and broken their hearts just last week.