36. Kallis #2
It just shows how furious they are if they are willing to take a risk out in the open. Or they believe the team is so beneath them that they don’t care about appearances.
“We only allowed you to leave New York because of the facilities at Philadelphia General, but this is not what we agreed upon,” Father says.
I don’t want to share anything about my research or the team.
If they show interest, they might dive deeper and discover that I ‘just’ work as an on-site medic and I don’t perform major surgeries anymore.
I don’t want them to know how it’s going to advance my career, because Father would be able to take it from me on a whim.
Mother has already fixed her gaze on someone, and I glance over my shoulder to see her watching the owner. She has a sixth sense for the most influential person in the room.
“At least do something useful and introduce us to him.” She sniffs.
My heart freezes, my throat goes tight. My fists curl as my father pinches me again, his nails digging in harder, but I can’t let them pass.
“Kallis, do what your mother says.”
Aspen joked about the Bears being defensive of The Woods, but that protectiveness flares up inside me as they try to push past me again. I want to spread out my arms and stop them, to protect the Bears from having to endure my parents, and to protect myself from them.
Because this is my team.
Even if my parents have enough influence to ban my research or outright steal it from me, that doesn’t eliminate the fact that I’m responsible for the Bears’ safety. It’s the same as when Artie was hurt.
The Bears are mine to protect.
“This is a closed event,” I manage to force out, even though my body is screaming that I have to bow my head and follow their orders or I’ll suffer for it.
“Nonsense, Kallis. You’re being ridiculous. We’ve come all this way; the least you can do is invite us in.” He moves higher, pinching along my ribline. I wince, tears building behind my eyes as shame and humiliation take over, but I can’t let it go.
My body is going numb, pain is piercing my chest, and I’m almost swaying on the spot as nausea festers in me.
It’s not the pinching itself; it’s the memories that come with it.
Of every time I did something they disapproved of, whenever I spoke out of line, or failed tests, fraternized with the wrong people; absolutely anything they deemed unacceptable, and the stabs of pain that came with it.
Their stares continue, preferring to wear me down to a thin scrap to show their power rather than simply use their strength to push past me.
Panic claws at me from the inside. I can feel myself shutting down, my body going stiff, unable to breathe as their eyes bore into me. Expectation, judgment, disappointment; everything I’ve been trained to avoid.
“Can we do this somewhere else? You’re too loud,” I say, nearly choking on the words.
“You are the one who is speaking back to us,” Father replies, his voice slicing through me.
I’ve been fighting for years to be free of this, but I can’t stop them. My research was a way to escape them, but looking at them now, I feel so insignificant that there’s no way I can ever escape.
The emotions that used to be so easy to hide are surging up. And I know why I can’t hold them back, and why it feels like they are attacking me rather than this being a normal meeting with my parents. Because I opened myself up to the three Bears, and I made the mistake of letting go with them.
I can’t even gasp, because if they sense something is wrong, Father will pinch me again. I don’t know how to make them leave; I’ve never defied them this way before.
I’m growing dizzy as oxygen refuses to travel to my brain. I’ve frozen, and there’s nothing I can do.
Useless, weak, and no matter what I say, they will drag me back to them. I’ll be forced under their regime again because I’ve only ever had the illusion of making my own choices.
They’re going to sit down next to the owner and assess whether this place is worthy of our family before they force me away, and I may never be with the Bears like this again.
That’s how much control they used to have over me. But I can’t let them take this from me. I want to leave on my own terms.
Mother pauses as she sees who is sitting three seats away from the owner, and tuts instantly. “It’s that woman’s fault, isn’t it? Aspen has always been a terrible influence on you. Don’t tell me you actually let her talk you into coming to this ridiculous town to do a job like this.”
“You don’t know what work I do,” I croak. Is that really the best I can say?
“I can see well enough from the kind of company you keep. If your work involved the higher levels of the NHL, we could understand, but do you really have to engage with the players as well?” Father asks.
“We care about you, Kallis. You can’t waste yourself in this dowdy town. You’re better than this.” Mother puts her hand on my shoulder with a caring smile. To anyone else, it’s a loving gesture, but they don’t see how her thumb digs into my collarbone.
I want to snarl at them because they have no idea what this place means to me now. Yes, most of the team are rough around the edges, but that’s what gives them soul.
Not like me or my parents, who can’t even laugh without effort.
I’m going to vomit because there really is nothing I can do. I’d rather throw up on them and earn their scorn for the rest of my life than let the Bears see them.
“Oh, hey, whatcha doing over here?” A familiar voice curls from behind me, along with a rush of freshly cut grass. “Dr. Tully’s in the middle of an important meeting with some tacos, and you’re interrupting.”
The panic that’s gnawing away at me explodes, and pure fear shudders through me as Artie appears with a steady and determined gaze.
My eyes slowly shut as defeat rises in me. Because out of all the people in the room, my scent matches are the ones I want to shelter the most.
“Excuse me?” Father asks, his tone as flat as mine as I start to choke.
I can’t breathe. They’re looking at Artie in disbelief as he grins up at them, like they are shocked that anyone from the players’ side of the room would dare talk to them. I don’t want them to know who he is to me, and I don’t want Artie to interact with them.
I’m still making steps to get to know the three of them, but if they see what my parents are really like, they may permanently reject me. So it could be for the better.
“You’re in the wrong place,” a growl comes from my right. “This isn’t a party for people like you.”
My fear is so intense that I’m ramrod straight, even with Orso’s clover churning around me. I can’t feel my fingers, my toes are numb, and my throat has closed off as my lungs scream.
A warm hand rides my back as wildflowers wash over me, and Mathan’s comforting size presses against my side. Orso and Artie are still watching my parents, as if they can’t wait for them to make a move, and Mathan’s nose brushes my cheek.
“We’re here now,” he murmurs. “You can breathe.”