Chapter 13
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
ONE DAY LATER
ALISA
Shifting in the wheelchair once Lyle places me inside its confines, I watch as he and Easton carefully tuck a blanket around my lap.
It’s cold today, though nowhere near the chilly temperatures of where I grew up.
It rarely snows in Savannah, which is one of the only reasons I survived being homeless here.
I have a newfound appreciation for people who live on the streets in the Midwest. The weather doesn’t play there. I would have been a frozen popsicle in Minneapolis.
Glancing down, I smile at the long sleeved sweatshirt that belongs to Lyle.
I’m sure there are other things I could have worn, but I like that he gave me this.
I'm also wearing a long sleeved shirt and flannel pants Easton gave me when I went to change this morning. There are even cozy socks on my feet!
I can’t even begin to explain how happy I am to be wearing real clothes. Despite the state of my health, it makes me feel a little more normal.
We said goodbye to Troy over breakfast yesterday, and while I didn’t eat much, it was nice to eat toast with fresh fruit. At least now, I no longer have the persistent growl in my stomach that demands I eat, though my appetite still only allows me to have a few bites before I’m full.
Instead, the growls of my stomach have been exchanged for cramps as my uterus works to clear my body of an unviable pregnancy.
Silas lifts the blanket to press the travel heating pad against my stomach and I hum with relief from the constant ache of pain that fills me. I’m still bleeding, though it’s not as heavy as before. I don’t know how betas and alpha females handle bleeding every month.
It’s awful. Though, I’m not sure if a heat is a decent trade off with how terrible all of my experiences with it have been. I don’t feel special to be an omega, it’s merely a giant arrow over my head to tell others I’m easily manipulated and used for their own ends.
“I don’t want to be a victim anymore.” The words are barely spoken as my thoughts make themselves known to the alphas surrounding me. Troy isn’t here yet, but I was told someone is driving him here from the airport.
He played a hockey game yesterday and then jumped on a plane in between his usual activities for the day. I would say it’s unnerving to have so much attention from these men, but that would be a lie.
A part of me is happy Troy wants to be here. Inhaling deeply to test if I can sense my scent matches, I frown as their scents wash over me, but I don’t feel any different. I doubt they’re lying to me about this…
Maybe I really am broken beyond repair. I want to press the material of Lyle’s sweatshirt against my nose to breathe in his scent, but I’ve never leaned into my omega instincts before. Is it odd if I sniff the sweatshirt?
Will they laugh at me for it? I’ve never had a nest, private space, or learned how to self regulate. I simply suppress everything until it’s locked in a box inside of me because I’m not allowed to be anything less than the perfect fuck toy.
“Today is about helping you do that,” Lyle says. He’s oblivious to the topic of my tumultuous thoughts, and his hands grip the handles of the wheelchair as he pushes me toward the entrance of the warehouse.
I’m still really weak, and I can’t stand for long before I begin to sag. The wheelchair is the compromise to keep me mobile.
“If you decide you want to participate, we have ways for you to do that from the chair,” Easton adds.
“This is going to be a marathon, not a sprint, Alisa. Drag it out as long as you’d like.
Troy is going to be here for the length of our torture session, and then he’s going to get cleaned up and make it back for evening practice and his game. ”
“I can’t believe he’s flying here for this,” I mumble. “Won’t he be tired later?”
“Troy is very good at rallying,” Lyle murmurs. “He wouldn’t do this if he didn’t want to.”
Opening the warehouse door, Silas holds it while Lyle guides me in. It’s about eleven in the morning, and it feels odd that the birds are chirping happily when we’re going to be responsible for people’s deaths today. Granted, they’re terrible people, but still.
“His ETA is fifteen minutes,” Easton says, checking his watch. “He just texted. Friends of ours are bringing him from the airport. You’re important to the four of us, Alisa. He despises having to be away.”
“It’s his job though,” I shrug, my eyes on the fluffy purple slippers on my feet. I am wildly excited about these. Silas slipped them onto my feet this morning before picking me up to walk to the SUV. “And we just met.”
Silas said a little whimsy is necessary for healing, and I swear I saw Dr. Walsh hide a snort as we left the house.
My striped socks don’t match my pants and Lyle’s sweatshirt swallows the top half of my body to the point where he had to roll up the sleeves.
However, I could tell he loved seeing me in his clothing and I can’t help but enjoy how soft it is.
He says it’s from his hockey days and at least twenty years old.
My cheeks heat as I think about how much older the men around me are compared to me. They probably have socks older than I am.
“You’re thinking really hard,” Lyle murmurs, leaning toward me. His cheek rubs against my temple as he scent marks me in affection, and my cheeks grow hotter. The scruff on his face is rough and he didn’t shave today.
I’m enjoying how relaxed he looks in his sweatpants and long sleeved shirt rolling up his forearms. He said he’s working from home this afternoon and he doesn’t need to wear a suit and tie to do that.
“I think I’m broken,” I mumble.
Lyle stops so quickly, I have to grab onto the armrests of the chair to keep from continuing forward and falling on my face.
“Why?” he asks.
Silas and Easton’s eyes turn toward me, and Lyle raises his hand toward someone I can’t see.
“We’ll be right there,” he says. “Just need to handle something first.”
“No worries,” a deep voice calls back. Now that I think about it, there’s an interesting energy inside the warehouse. It no longer feels semi-abandoned the way it appears on the outside.
“You said I’m your scent match,” I begin, clasping my hands nervously. “You’re not lying about that, right?”
“No.” The word is grunted by the three of them at the same time, and I take a deep breath. It should settle my nerves, but it doesn’t. I can smell Lyle’s caramel scent, Easton’s mocha coffee, and Silas… Woah. He smells more like fresh cookies than the storm I smelled earlier.
I want to wrap them around me and snuggle with their scents, but I’m not feeling the fireworks people often talk about when they find their scent match.
“I can’t feel anything,” I whisper, tears burning in my eyes. I refuse to let them fall, my eyes widening to keep them trapped. “I should be able to tell if you’re my scent matches, right?”
“Not if someone made sure you can’t,” Silas says, taking my hand.
He and East crouch down on either side of me, and East pulls my bottom lip away from my teeth.
“When I spoke with Bellamy and Winter, they told me this would most likely be the case. The owner at Slick Dreams did this for control, and it could be a while before it works its way out of your system.”
I didn’t even realize I was torturing myself with my anxious energy, but I can feel the sting in my lip once Easton pulls it away from my teeth.
“Dr. Walsh is testing for ways your body has been manipulated without your permission, and if it’s some kind of alpha blocker to keep you from connecting to our scents, then we’ll wait for it to dissipate.
I don’t know of any medication that’s permanent without continuing to take it,” Lyle murmurs above me.
“The way we see it, we can court you without the added pressure of fate and biology,” Easton says. “No sex, just getting to know each other. We’re courting Troy too. The man is stubborn as hell, but he finally spent the night because he didn’t want to be away from you.”
“He said he had a nightmare too and women have hurt him,” I muse.
“That’s true. He couldn’t stand to have anyone touch him. We’re the special ones,” Lyle says, making it clear I’m included in his ‘we’. “His ex-wife is a cunt and she swears Troy cheated on her. However, on what planet does a man cheat when he’s duct taped and asleep in bed?”
I can’t help the shudder that wracks my body at the thought of someone so strong brought low by anyone.
“There’s no consent in that situation,” I rasp. “If there’s no consent, it isn’t cheating. How could she believe anything different?”
“Ella saw a gorgeous, very talented athlete, and figured he’d be a good catch.
She didn’t stop to think about the hours he’d be keeping to stay on top of his game.
Dating a hockey player comes with the drawbacks of their career as well,” Lyle explains.
“If he’s traded, he has to move within seventy-two hours.
If you’re lucky, your family will go with you.
If you aren’t, you move alone and set your family up in a permanent home.
That’s what Troy did. He went to see her on his breaks because he didn’t want to mess with her idea of the perfect home.
Ella wanted the perks of his money, but not the man. ”
“Today isn’t going to be like that for him,” I murmur, piecing together what the guys are explaining to me. “We’re excited he’s coming back to be with us.”
I shouldn’t be getting attached to these alphas. I feel a kinship with Troy, knowing he’s experienced some of the same things I have. Silas, Lyle, and Easton are impossible not to pay attention to, as their presence commands every cell in my body to know where they are.
Yet, they don’t scare me. Respectively, I know not all alphas are terrible people. My brothers were good alphas. I can’t paint everyone with the same brush if I want to move on from the things I’ve experienced. I’ve been thinking a lot recently and trying to practice some introspection.