Chapter 3 #2
"Oh my gosh, Lila! I'm so glad you're home!” she cries out as she dusts her flour-coated hands onto her apron. As she clacks her way over in those odd kitten-heel shoes she likes to wear, her soft brown curls bounce with each step, framing her face in a perfect coif. The complete opposite of Mom’s crazy messy buns with paint sticks jammed into them.
“You must be exhausted. Here, let me take your bag. "
"Careful, Linda," my dad teases with a gruff laugh. "She probably won't let you take it from her." He leans over and gives an exaggerated whisper. "Female stuff, you know."
"Dad," I grind out, finally allowing a little of the irritation to bleed into my tone. "Can't you just drop it?"
"What? A dad can't tease his daughter?"
Linda chuckles as she swats him on the arm. "Oh, Bobby. You're incorrigible. Leave the poor girl alone and let her get settled back in. It's almost dinner."
"Thanks, Li—Mom." I quickly amend as I catch my dad's warning gaze. "Shouldn't take too long. I'll get a quick shower and be right down."
"I'll get the rest of your stuff in the room for you," Dad calls out as he reaches his hand out to ruffle my hair. "Good to have you back home, kiddo. Even if it's just for a few weeks."
The smile I give him is wan and thin. I can feel myself grimace up at him.
It certainly doesn't reach my eyes, and why would it?
I hate everything about this interaction.
If only my classes weren't so consuming that I could get a good enough job to pay for my room and board at school.
Or hell, even a small apartment. Maybe then I could finally get out from under his exacting, annoying thumb.
My brain takes a darker turn as I trudge past my parents' downstairs bedroom and up the stairs to where I know my bedroom will still be that pristine white and pink from when I was little. Dad never did let me repaint it. Even when I told him my color palette had vastly changed.
Not that I completely blame him. Even now, as I walk past the room Nathan uses, the nostalgia and memories creep in until my eyes nearly burn with unshed tears.
As I turn into my room, I stop and stare at the delicate lines giving the space a cotton candy pinstripe.
Though I barely remember Mom and I painting this room together, it's still there at the ragged edges of my memories, clinging on for dear life.
In some ways, I'm glad he never let me change it. It keeps a small part of her still alive. As I tuck the bag of illicit goodies into the adjoining jack and jill bathroom, I come back out to stand in the middle and look at everything, forcing my heart and soul to remember.
The four-poster canopy still stands in the middle with the fluffy white curtains draped on top. Thankfully, I'm still sort of small enough that I can fit. It's not as comfortable as when I was a child, but it'll do. Perks of being an omega, I guess.
As I curl my hand around one of the pillars, my dad walks in and stands behind me. "She'd be proud of you, kiddo," he murmurs, his voice gruff and thick with emotion.
Needing to break the tension, I turn back to him and smirk. "I hope you're proud of me too."
"Well, of course I am. I just wish you didn't have to be so far away. I worry about you. I know what Alphas and betas are like. I'm in the streets every day dealing with them."
"You're an Alpha too, you know."
"Yes." He clears his throat and raises an eyebrow. "But I'm one of the good ones."
"You know many of the other Alphas are good too."
"I know that. But I don't trust them."
"You mean you don't trust them around me."
"Of course, that's what I mean. If you just knew how many calls I've had to handle of Alphas going rogue over an omega in heat. Hell, I'd take the petty crimes the betas do over dealing with an Alpha in a rut."
I can see the pain in his eyes, the absolute gut-wrenching devastation as he talks about it.
But what happened to Mom was a fluke. Wrong place.
Wrong time. The Alpha didn't even want her.
She was just in the way of who he was really after.
No one could have predicted it. No one could have stopped it.
"You're on your suppressants, right?” He cuts back into my thoughts. “Please tell me you're still taking them."
"Yes, Dad. It's mandatory at school, anyway. We get our hormones checked once a month to make sure they're holding steady."
"Good girl. Go get cleaned up, and I'll get the rest of your stuff."
My heart thumps in my chest as I go in and lock the door before turning on the hot spray. I guess maybe I'm giving him too hard of a time. It's just so hard to grasp for every scrap of freedom I can sink my claws into when he fears for my safety every single minute.
Stepping in, I let the water sluice over me as I force my mind to think of something else. After a minute or two, I find myself contemplating exactly what to do with the dildos in my bag. It was a mistake ordering them, but an even bigger one bringing them home with me.
Even now, my muscles clench as slick slides down my inner thigh. Great. Horny again. At least I know it's not my suppressants failing. At least… I hope not. That would make winter break even more awkward.
I need to get myself under control before Nate gets here. The last thing I need is to be a slick, needy mess when I see him for the first time in years.