Chapter 11 #2
Oof. I groaned and palmed my face with both hands. Kill me. Of course Mr. Marino had to tell her about last night. “You two are worse than a pair of meddling geese.”
“It’s because we care about you. You know that, right?” she said, pulling through the gated driveway that wound around the side of the house to the underground garage entrance.
My defensive remarks deflated. “Yes. I know.”
She parked and shut off the car. “Good. Now, I won’t pry anymore today, but please let me know if you need anything. And maybe call the doctor, just to make sure.”
We stepped out, and I gathered the bags with my things, hoping she wouldn’t realize I’d accidentally left behind the red light mask. “I will. Thanks for everything today. I’ll let you know if I need time off this week.”
“Take care of yourself, Max,” she said, going in to hug me before she stopped and tipped her head in curiosity. “Huh. That’s weird. I can’t smell you anymore. I mean, you definitely need to change, but I don’t think it’s as strong as it was at the store.”
I didn’t know if that was better or worse. “Great,” I replied flatly.
Before I was out of reach, she blew me a kiss and shoved that stupid mask into my bag. “Don’t forget your red light therapy! I bet it’ll help you feel better.”
I flipped her off over my shoulder and then blew a kiss back before shuffling down the path to my apartment.
After forty-five minutes in a hot shower, three different body washes that all smelled worse than the last, and too many face creams to count, I sat cross-legged on my bed, wrapped in my favorite bougie cotton robe.
It had cats sunning themselves in Cabana chairs all over it.
“Sure, try putting the bright red traffic light directly on your face. I’m sure that’s exactly what the doctor meant by you need to rest,” I mumbled to myself, fiddling with the stupid mask.
I pressed a button, and it began to strobe. “Yikes.”
Once I found the right settings, I strapped it on and sat back against the pillows, legs crossed in front of me, hands in my lap. Jeffrey peered at me from his spot at the end of the bed, unimpressed, and jumped down to find somewhere else to lie.
Fine. I’d just relax without him.
My phone dinged. I huffed and ignored it.
Gwen had been right. My heat symptoms—or pre-heat, false heat, or whatever the fuck they were—had passed without further incident. In fact, other than a bit of slick and my scent changing, nothing else had happened.
Usually, I got a bit sore from cramps and headaches in the days leading up to my heat, and my sex drive went through the roof. Like, I’d need to masturbate two or three times in a row, riding my own fingers before I could fall asleep.
Well, I guess that last one applied, but the others definitely weren't happening.
I’d called the doctor anyway, and she said I might experience a more drawn-out full heat, or it might just fizzle into nothing. But if I did go into heat, she’d cautioned against spending it alone.
“If you don’t have a partner or loved one to take care of you, I’d encourage you to make an appointment back at the heat clinic,” she’d said. “This first cycle after so long could be unpredictable and possibly dangerous. You need to stay hydrated.”
Yeah, going back to the clinic wasn’t going to happen. Fuck that.
I didn’t have the courage to ask her about unsealed bonds and whether someone’s heat could really be triggered by one person. I still wasn’t ready to decide what I’d do, even if she confirmed it was possible. Not knowing for a little while longer felt safer.
The mask gently warmed my skin, but was nothing like one of those awful tanning beds I’d tried in high school. Still, I fidgeted, crossing and uncrossing my legs, folding my arms, and turning onto my side.
I couldn’t seem to settle.
Soft afternoon light filtered in through the sheer curtains, dancing in the breeze. Being on the second floor, I’d always loved opening the window on cool days to air out the room.
My phone dinged again.
I rolled over, facing away from the nightstand, but it didn’t stop the complicated mess of emotions whirling around inside me. I was relieved, sure. Of course I was glad to be able to experience a heat again—to be able to choose who I spent it with.
But it dredged up so much shit from that night.
None of this would’ve happened if… if Joey hadn’t been literally the worst piece of trash on the planet.
And if I hadn’t been so naive.
Stop. I had to stop that. Remembering the Masked Man’s words, I shook out the tension in my body.
The most dangerous monsters are the ones who are able to fool the people around them. What happened was never your fault.
I didn’t choose what’d happened to me. I didn’t choose this bond, but I could choose how to move forward.
Okay, so. The Masked Man and I were bonded, and we needed to spend a heat together so we could reject the bond and go our separate ways. Phrased like that, it sounded easy.
But could I actually go through with it?
I wasn’t saving my heat for any particular reason, other than I just wanted to find the right person. Someone I connected with and who cared about me.
Maybe even someone who loved me.
I’d had sex before, but heat was another thing entirely, and I just wanted an alpha I knew I could trust to take care of me. Logically, a murdering stalker should be the last person on that list.
But he seemed genuinely desperate for this to end, and promised he wouldn’t hurt me. However, even if I were safe with him, sharing a heat was one thing, but knowing we were already partially bonded and would need to reject the claim was an entirely different beast.
What if something went wrong? What if we ended up accidentally bonded for real? What if he went back on his word and decided he did want to hurt me, after all?
He won’t, my omega whispered. That was a dangerous voice to listen to, because I wanted it to be true.
A rustle outside my window pulled me from my spiraling thoughts.
I sat up and held my breath. It was probably just the wind, right?
Another rustle—and then something brushed up against the house.
Slowly, I slid out of bed, careful to muffle my steps on the soft carpet. The shuffling continued, growing louder the closer I crept to the window.
A quiet curse made me freeze in place. I recognized that voice, dripping with dark intensity.
He was outside. Right now. I could sense him getting closer.
What the hell is he doing?
Well, he certainly wasn’t there to pull weeds.
Carefully, I leaned out the open window to catch a glimpse. Only to come face-to-face with the Masked Man.