Chapter 18 Bonnie
Bonnie
Cyn put the spider on Kevin’s back. He put…the spider on his back. Actually reached out in stealth mode and placed it there.
I watched him do it.
The longer I think about it, the madder and more amused I get.
Even with Rory distracting me, I clearly saw it. Clear as day. I am such an idiot. I knew they were bad, but I didn’t realise they were like this, and yet, as frustrated as I am, I still want to just sit down and laugh myself stupid.
I grind my teeth and gesture for everyone to get moving. Today, I lead the group, keeping to a pace that keeps everyone away from me so I can think. It presses on me all day, and no matter how I think about it, I cannot stop seeing him reach out and leave the arachnid on Kevin’s back.
But thinking about that leads into this fascinating little rerun of the last couple of days and all the sudden and uncomfortable memories of the accidents that have happened.
Which leads into now, where I’m a cauldron of rage, wondering if stabbing them with a branch is something I could get away with.
The more I think about it, the angrier I get.
I try desperately to ignore the attraction, and I do not at all acknowledge how aroused I am, but they are full of bullshit, and this situation is absolutely fucked.
I wish I could talk to Meg or my father. I mean, if they want to kill people, they can do it anywhere else, but why are they trying to ruin my family business? Are they trying to ruin me? Is this about me? They were surprised to see that I was working here, so maybe it’s about something else.
“Bonnie? Should we set up camp?”
I smile at Kendall, who anxiously plays with the drawstring of his jumper.
“Yes, thank you. Let the others know I’ll be back. I’m going to get some firewood.”
I stalk off before he can stop me. I get far enough away and sit down on a rock, putting my hands on my knees and trying the meditative breathing techniques that Desi taught me.
It starts to work, but then Dakota finds me, and I want to punch him in the face, and all the zen I found disappears.
I want to shout and scream at him, rage. Throw a fucking rock at his head and howl at his stupidity. Except, how do you accuse someone of attempted murder without either getting murdered or looking crazy?
I don’t have the answer, but worse, in the face of this horrible discovery, I find the shocking and appalling revelation that it doesn’t change their appeal at all. Not even a little bit.
I still want his knot in me. Maybe more than I did before because it’s kind of a little hot. I am a sick, sick omega.
Maybe I could put a bag over his head so I don’t get tempted to stab him.
“Bonnie, you look like you fell-”
“Finish that sentence, and I’ll put bugs in your tent,” I grumble, disgusted with my traitorous body.
His smile widens, deepening with something more. It’s intense, like rolling grey storm clouds or a rapid. His smile is exciting. God, I want to play with him.
“Bonnie, love, are you ever going to let me win you over?”
I snort. “No. That would be a complete waste of time.” It would be so much fun! Go play with the hot alpha.
“I don’t think any minute spent with you is a waste of time.”
He sidles closer, and before I can stop him, he reaches out and slides his fingers through my hair and steals my hair tie.
My gasp slips out before I can stop it, but he’s so close now, and I’m sitting on the rock, staring up at him, and I can’t think of a single appropriate thing to say.
I want you to knot me.
Chase me through the forest.
Be dark and dangerous but make me yours.
Ew, no. None of those thoughts.
His expression gets soft as he stares at my hair, and then he looks at my lips for the longest time, I think he might bend down and kiss me, but then he looks up, and he must see the warning rage that’s lingering because he steps back.
“I’m going to go collect the wood.”
I watch him until I can’t see him anymore, then let out the breath I’ve been holding.
I rub my chest where that ache has been since that night all those years ago.
No amount of dating repaired what they broke, no heats with other alphas fixed the desperate longing.
My dreams are full of them: nightmares, happy endings, fantasies where I stab them or fuck them, where they say they were wrong and kneel before me.
In the day, I keep so busy I don’t think about them, but this new version of them is scary and interesting, fascinating, perplexing. I’m obsessing over them again.
Falling into old patterns.
Am I the kind of omega who would overlook my criminal alphas? I don’t even know if I can answer that with any honesty. It would depend.
Am I the kind of omega who can look past the way they brutally left me ruined ten years ago?
No, I can’t look past it. I can’t forgive them. They need to pay for what they did to me. But my anger is slipping away, and trying to hold it is like trying to hold water in my hand.
I rub my eyes, my head’s starting to ache with all the insane thoughts going through it, but there’s one thing that my calm, logical self is saying that I cling to- there is nothing I can do about it until I get back there.
I focus on the jobs, go through the motions. When they come near me, they are polite, and I’m polite, but I think they can sense something is wrong because they give me space.
And my thoughts roil.
We all go to bed early, but I lay there in the sleeping bag that Cyn donated, trying not to touch myself, long into the night, and before sleep takes me, I have a plan.
Apparently, I’m not the only one who had a plan. We’ve been up for barely thirty minutes and just started walking, and the audacity of these assholes, I cannot even believe it, but they tried again.
I don’t know how they got the boulder to come rolling down the steep side of the hill, but if I hadn’t been alert and waiting for them, Rojer’s head would have been an abstract painting on the dirt path.
I am seething.
“You ought to buy a lotto ticket,” I tell Rojer with a laugh.
He glowers up at me. “I’m going to sue you.” His words are clipped.
Yeah, I think you probably will.
“Sure, you can do that, but let’s get you out of here first.”
I help him to his feet, and I can see he’s a whole lot more shook than he wants to admit. He’s got scratches on the side of his face, but he won’t let me take a look.
He shoves me off him and stalks towards Nathan and Kevin.
“Are you all right?” Quincy asks.
I startle; I hadn’t heard him sneak up on me. “Of course.”
“You have a bit of blood on your cheek?”
“I do?” I slap a hand to my face and feel a long, thin line.
I can’t help it; I lift my eyes and skewer the Prince with a hard glare.
Dakota’s eyebrows raise, and I know I’ve just given myself away a bit. Shit.
“Get moving, stop looking at me like that. I’m fine,” I say impulsively to cover my error.
Quincy steps away as if he’s burned, and, for that, I’m sorry, but the suspicion on the Prince pack eases as their expressions transform into that smug amusement that looks so damn good on them. Too bad I know it’s a front.
I turn and march down the path; my heart is still beating too fast. That was close, too close. I was so lucky he was just ahead of me and my reflexes are that good. I managed to swing us both out of the way, hitting the ground hard, the boulder just bouncing past us.
So close.
Vale catches up and walks beside me.
“Are you all right?”
Does he even care?
“I am fine,” I say in a clipped voice.
“I was scared.” His voice is oddly subdued. “That was too close.”
I look at him sharply; does he regret what almost happened?
“I am fine,” I say in a slightly softer tone. “I’ve got amazing reflexes.”
“It has been noticed.”
Why does that sound like he’s noticing a lot about me, but not just my reflexes?
Vale abruptly grabs my wrist and pulls me off the path behind a tree. He pulls me close, so close I can practically feel his body, like there’s a force field of warmth and strength that exists around him. I feel small in his arms; the power he keeps contained is clear to witness.
His scent of burning paper wafts around us, stronger than ever, and I almost close my eyes as it goes into my lungs, bringing up a warm comfort that I never knew I needed.
“Vale, what are we doing?” I want my words to be strong, but they come out weak, needy, breathless.
His arms wrap around me, pulling me up against his chest. It’s like coming home, it’s a lifetime of longing, it’s an entire future of possibilities laid out before me.
All I can do is swirl in the storm of the realisation that nothing, nothing will ever come close to feeling as good as I feel in their arms.
My chest tightens and aches as the memories crash back in, the feeling of loss. I must tense because he draws back, staring at me intently.
“I’m just happy you are alive and okay.”
“It takes a lot to kill me.”
“I don’t doubt it,” he whispers, and I feel the words in his chest. His breathing hits my hair, and for one incredibly dumb, fucked-up moment, I just want to stay in his arms forever.
Clarity returns with a tiny throb in my cheek, reminding me of my near-death experience. I shove out of his arms and turn away from him.
“I’m fine,” I say sharply. “We better get back; I don’t want to lose anyone out here.”
The rest of the day passes uneventfully.
But I can still feel his arms around me, and that feeling hasn’t gone away, and I wonder suddenly if it ever will.