2. Everett
Everett
“Look, Charles, I know you’re doing your best. But this is unacceptable.” I’m fighting desperately to keep my voice even and controlled. I’m failing. Miserably.
I’ve practically worn a hole through the dining room floors of Beck’s penthouse. Even across the wide, open-concept space, I can feel four sets of eyes on me as I talk to my lawyers.
“I understand, sir,” Charles says. I can hear the exhaustion in his voice. “But there is nothing that can be done right now. Gina Sterling’s emergency conservatorship over Andromeda has been granted. Everything has been above board.”
“Above board?” I bite out. “That woman threw herself down those stairs.”
“That’s not what the witnesses cited in the case are saying.”
We don’t know for sure that’s what Gina Sterling did. But we certainly know that Andi didn’t push her mother down those steps, unprovoked, in some sort of mental breakdown.
I’m also personally inclined to believe Gina Sterling did this to herself, considering what Edison Wade, Andi’s father, shared with us the other day about his past.
“Of course.” I scrub a hand down my face. My limbs feel heavy, like I’ve aged an extra decade.
I’m sure if Andi were here, she’d crack a joke about me being old. Maybe something along the lines of, you know, I’d say the stress is gonna give you gray hair, but you’re already halfway there!
I’m going insane. I’m talking to her voice in my head.
I spent the first sixteen years of my life at the whims of my father—who struggled with the monsters in his mind the same way I suspect Gina does—before the world grew to be too much and he killed himself.
I’ve spent years, decades even, working on myself and undoing the programming that sort of childhood instills in your brain. I have money, power, and meticulous routines which I use to maintain my sense of control.
Nothing has made me feel as childish, as helpless, as this current situation.
“Look, Charles. Just... just keep looking, okay? The cost is of no consequence. I just want a way to get her out of this mess, understood?”
“Yes,” Charles says, his tone serious and professional.
I press the heel of my hand against my sternum, hard enough that it should hurt more than my brain is currently registering. My pulse is doing something erratic under my palm—something my morning runs and excellent blood pressure readings, according to my doctor, should have no business allowing.
I haven’t lost control of a conversation in a very long time. The entire career I’ve built has been reliant on the careful control I maintain over myself and those around me.
“Everett?” Charles asks. “Are you still there?”
“Here,” I say. My voice comes out steadier than I would’ve expected. Good. That’s good. That’s the version of me that gets things done. “Good. Thank you, Charles.”
I sit with the empty silence after I end the call for a second, trying my best to collect myself.
It’s difficult. How in the world am I expected to function, to be the leader of this not-even fully formed pack when I feel like I’m falling apart.
I keep replaying in my mind, Andi’s bright smile as she stared up at the stars in Beck’s hometown the night before we went to meet her father. We made so many galaxy jokes, considering Andi’s full name is Andromeda.
I’m pretty sure Beck said his “it’s galaxy-ception!” joke half a dozen times over the course of the night.
Why did the universe have to be so cruel to such a sweet and earnest girl who just wanted to belong? Why did it have to give her a taste of happiness, of what life could be, before ripping it all away in a public scandal of this magnitude?
I let out a deep, frustrated sigh before forcing myself to take a slow breath.
The others are relying on me to fix this, to figure out a solution. I have to be the one in charge here.
I stalk into the living room, pulling my shoulders back.
Beck’s eyes are swollen from crying. When I first showed up here, right after I got the call from Cameron about the terrible news, Beck was hysterical. Not even Eli could get him to calm down.
And as he blinks up at me with wide, hopeful eyes that aren’t filled with tears for the first time in hours, I nearly choke on my guilt.
I’m also nearly choking on Beck’s normally sweet, caramel perfume that’s twisted with his stress. It’s so burnt you can barely tell what it’s supposed to be when he’s calm or happy.
“I don’t have good news,” I say, fighting to keep my words even past the lump in my throat.
Leo looks up at me for the first time. He’s been sitting in an almost comatose state, staring at the wall for who knows how long.
Eli stiffens, his hands clenched into trembling fists at his sides.
He immediately reaches for Beck, swinging the omega’s legs across his lap and squeezing Beck’s thigh.
Whether he’s anchoring himself or offering Beck the physical reassurance an emotional omega needs, is a little unclear.
Given the situation and the way everyone here feels about Andi, it’s probably a mix of both.
My eyes cut to Cameron last. He meets my gaze with a tired one of his own.
This is affecting him too. It’s obvious in the way he’s perched at the very edge of the armchair. There’s tension radiating off him in waves, but he’s trying to keep it buried under the front of professionalism. Almost like he’s unsure whether he has a right to care as much as he does.
If this were any other situation, I’d probably take the time to probe around and figure out exactly how much it’s affecting him and why, but for now? I just accept the fact that he’s here and willing to help. He didn’t have to call me the moment he found out about that headline.
He could’ve let us find out hours later on our own.
For that, I’m grateful.
“Don’t just stand there,” Eli bites out, his jaw working. “What the hell did they say?”
“The conservatorship was filed on emergency grounds, following the ‘violent outburst’ Andi supposedly had,” I answer. “That... complicates things.”
Beck lets out a choked sob and buries his head in his hands, his shoulders trembling.
I have to fight to keep silent and still.
There’s a growl that desperately wants to explode out of my chest right now in response to hearing and scenting an omega in such distress.
And I’m not even interested in Beck like that.
I’m surprised Eli is keeping himself together so well.
Instead of going on a rampage and throwing things or putting holes in walls, Eli just tugs Beck’s shaking form into his lap completely. Eli’s chest vibrates with a sound that’s a mix between a purr and a growl, but it does its job. Beck’s shoulders relax and his perfume pulls back ever so slightly.
It’s good enough for the rest of us to resume breathing again. Not normally, but at least we can continue the conversation.
“Complicates things, how?” Leo asks, his voice soft, but there’s a hardness there that’s not normally present.
“Conservatorships normally don’t work this fast,” I explain, summarizing what Charles, the partner at the law firm I keep on retainer, explained to me earlier.
“There’s time between the petition being filed and the hearing where it’s granted.
In normal proceedings, the potential conservatee is even notified so that they can arrange representation for themselves.
That’s not the case here. Because it was an emergency filing, claiming that Andi was a danger to herself and others around her, it was granted immediately. ”
“Even if it was an emergency application, she was just with us,” Cameron says softly. “Her mother had to have been preparing this for a while.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised to find out she was.” I nod.
“So—so what are we supposed to do now?” Beck rasps, raking the palms of his hands over his eyes.
“The current conservatorship is technically temporary. They’re going to set an official hearing date, probably within the next thirty to forty-five days. That’ll be where Gina will probably push the case to make the emergency conservatorship a permanent one,” I say, beginning to pace once more.
“So we just have to sit on our asses with our dicks in our hands for a month?” Eli bites out. “While that bitch does God knows what to her?”
“That’s not what I’m saying,” I bite out.
But isn’t it? Eli has a point. All I’ve managed to figure out is exactly how screwed Andi is. I haven’t found a solution. Not a real one.
It’s my job to hold us together. Ever since I signed Beck, I knew that keeping him safe was just as important to me as helping his music career flourish. Maybe even more so.
And then Andi stumbled into all our lives and changed everything. How do I thank her? By failing to protect her.
“We can try to ensure that Andi has good representation when that hearing happens. But there’s no guarantee that the courts will accept our acting on her behalf when she’s already under the emergency conservatorship. We have no claim to her, especially not now.”
“Not even if I’m the one to get it for her? Doesn’t us being together publicly mean anything?” Beck asks, running a trembling hand through his hair.
“Not to the courts,” I say with a shake of my head.
The room fills with a thick, tense silence. The sun is starting to set, casting the space in a golden glow. The light glitters off the windows of the nearby high-rise buildings.
“Maybe not to the legal system, but it could be helpful when dealing with the court of public opinion,” Cameron says, breaking the silence.
“Everett is right. The court system would probably only acknowledge a bond mark or a marriage certificate. But that doesn’t mean that we have to stay silent about this whole thing. ”
“But we’ll have to play our cards carefully,” Leo says, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees, moving for the first time in a while. “The last thing we need is to piss Andi’s mom off and have her retaliate somehow.”
“She’s obviously batshit insane,” Eli scowls, offering Leo a nod of acknowledgment.
“Why do you think she’s doing this?” Beck asks, looking longingly at his phone, which lies on the floor beside the coffee table, the corner of its screen cracked from when he threw it down onto the floor earlier.
None of his texts or calls went through to Andi.
I know because I tried calling her the moment I heard the news.
It’s unsurprising. I’m sure that Gina probably blocked all of us, or even disconnected Andi’s number completely. Maybe both.
“Control,” I answer, my voice rough.
“But why now?” Beck shakes his head as if none of this makes sense to him.
Probably because it doesn’t.
There are certain things about dealing with a parent who has an untreated mental illness like this that people who haven’t experienced don’t understand.
But instead of trying to explain to Beck the warped mindset Andi’s mom has—probably a product of her own trauma and the aftereffects of her chemical unbonding to Andi’s father years ago—I explain the more logistical reasons that are easier to understand.
“I have a call to make,” I say, reaching into my pocket and pulling out my phone.
“Who are you calling?” Leo asks, tilting his head as he looks up at me.
“Someone who can help?” Beck adds.
“Hopefully,” I say with a sigh. “He at least has more experience dealing with Gina Sterling—especially within a legal context.”
“You’re calling Edison,” Cameron says, sitting up straighter.
“Yes.” I nod.
It takes a bit of searching, but I’m able to find his number easily enough. He should probably invest in making sure his contact information is more private.
Or maybe he left it easily accessible on purpose, with the hope his daughter would reach out one day.
The phone rings four times before he picks up.
“Is this Edison Wade?” I ask.
“This is he,” Edison answers. There’s the sound of a mouse clicking in the background—probably working away on something.
“This is Everett Vaughn... we met a couple of days ago.”
“Ah, Everett! This is a surprise. How can I help you?” His friendly tone tells me that he probably doesn’t know what is going on.
He doesn’t strike me as the type to take the news about Andi being put under an emergency conservatorship and losing all of her rights to the woman who fucked him over lightly.
“Are you sitting down, Mr. Wade?”
“I am,” he says, his tone growing more serious when he hears the tenseness in my voice.
“I assume you haven’t checked the news today.”
“No, I tend to avoid it unless I’m in the proper headspace. Why? What’s going on?”
“Andi has been put under an emergency conservatorship... under her mother.”
There’s silence on the other end of the line. All four of the others around me seem to lean forward with anticipation for Edison’s reaction.
I hear typing on the other end of the line. He’s probably rushing to the internet the same way I did when I first heard the news.
“Oh God,” Edison breathes out, his voice shaky.
“We were... we were hoping that you’d be willing to help. You’re more familiar with Gina Sterling than any of us, and this is the type of situation where understanding who we’re dealing with could be helpful.”
“How soon can you make it over?”
“We’ll be over in thirty minutes.”