Chapter 18
River
Idon’t know how long I sat there, staring at the screen.
The little green chat bubble had long since faded, but the words lingered.
The project I’d been bracing myself for suddenly had a face—well, not a face, but a voice, and one that cared enough to reach out first. I read his message again.
Then again. By the fifth time, I could almost hear him talking, casual and a little awkward.
My stomach churns, my chest tightens, the air thins around me and I feel as if I can’t breathe, can’t think.
It’s like I’m suffocating. My hands shake.
Another cramp hits my stomach as a sour taste rises in my throat.
This message is different. I’m use to being the one to initiate the conversations.
It puts me in control. I dictate who has the ability to message me.
But this out of the blue has me on edge.
No, no, no. The familiar itch of a blade between my fingers, the euphoria that washes over me when I press it into my skin and make that first cut suddenly overtakes me.
But I can’t. I’ve come too far to go back now. Cutting is an addiction I promised not only myself but Storm I wouldn’t fall back into.
Another wave of nausea overtakes me, and I rush to the bathroom, slamming my palm against the door and push it open. Time is running out, and I know everything is about to come up.
My legs barely listen as I lurch forward, dropping to the floor, my knees slamming down on the hard linoleum floor. I don’t care though. I’ve barely lifted the lid when the entire contents of my stomach explodes from my mouth.
I can’t stop. My whole body shakes, convulses, sweat glistens on my skin. Tears sting hot, unbidden, blurring everything. I choke, spit, gasp like I’m drowning, clutching the porcelain bowl like it’s the only thing keeping me upright. Keeping me alive.
And when my stomach finally empties and I can flush away the disaster it caused, the fear still sits there. It’s a heavy burden in my chest that doesn’t want to leave.
Breathe in. Breathe out. It’s what my therapist taught me to do when I get panicked. Instead of rushing to the object that would deflect my pain and anxiety, I work through the situation.
“Get it together, River,” I whisper hoarsely, as I pull myself up on the bathroom counter.
Once I’m standing, I brace my hands on the porcelain bowl of the sink and gaze at myself in the mirror.
I take a deep breath in and slowly blow it out, repeating it four times.
“It’s just a message. He’s not here. He doesn’t know where you live. You’re safe.” I repeat that four times.
When my breathing is finally under control, I turn on the cold water, cupping my hands underneath the flow, collecting some to wash the distaste from my mouth.
“Teeth. I need to brush my teeth.” It’s a distraction for my brain, giving me more time to process the emotions flooding me. I stroke meticulously, covering every inch of enamel on every tooth, until I can’t taste the bile taste of vomit anymore.
Once I’m done, I head back to my living room and sit down at my desk. My fingers tap on the cherry wood in a staccato pattern.
“Fuuucckkk,” I drag out. “Come on, River, it’s a fucking message. You want to be able to be on your own one day then you’re going to have to deal with talking to people. This is the first step. It’s not like I have to meet him or anything. He doesn’t even know the real me.”
There’s a knock at my door causing me to let out a scream, before my door bursts open. Tav stands there, eyes wide, as his dark emerald eyes dart around the room. His long brown hair is pulled up into a man bun. His towering frame fills the entire doorway.
“Are you okay?” He’s already shifted the package in his hand and pulled his gun.
“Geesh, put that thing away before you shoot me. You just startled me. I was doing schoolwork.”
“Well, don’t scream in the future. Here’s your meds.” He holds out the small box to me, and I stand moving across the room, and take it from him.
His eyes scan the room as if he’s still looking for an intruder, making sure I am truly safe. He clears his throat before sticking the gun back in the holster on the chest strap he wears. Tav crosses his arms over his chest before changing his mind and slips his hands into the pockets of pants.
“What?” I burst out.
“Torin said you’re ready to go off your suppressants so that your body can go through a heat cycle.”
I can feel my face heating in embarrassment.
Talking with my therapist, doctor and Torin about that is one thing.
But Tav, an alpha, who isn’t even mine, is a whole different story.
I’ve known him, Callax, and Josh for two years, and they’ve seen me at my worst, but some things a woman should be able to keep to herself.
Am I right?
“I told him I’d think about it. He wanted to check out that Heatwave place in case I wanted to use their services.
” I duck my head, not able to look him in the face.
The only time they’ve ever used their alpha bark on me has been the few times I relapsed and cut.
Other than that, they refuse to use it on me, not wanting to bring up memories of that night.
“And I’m glad everyone is so concerned with my heat. ”
I turn and take the package back to my desk and set it down.
When I get there, I don’t open it; I just stand there frozen.
I feel him step up behind me, his coffee and cinnamon scent thick with worry.
His firm hands land on my shoulders, squeezing gently.
I smile, him and the others being able to touch me without me flinching or trying to pull away didn’t happen until almost a year ago.
“We care about you. It may say you’re Torin’s sister on paper, but blood or not, that’s how we think of you. You deserve a pack that loves you. A heat that should be the way every omega wants. You can tell us you don’t, but I know that somewhere deep inside it’s what you want too.”
I can’t answer him, because it would be a lie.
Even though I tell myself I don’t want a pack, I secretly do.
Watching the way they treat Torin over the last two years, even though for the most part he doesn’t act as a conventional omega, made that desire grow.
Who doesn’t want someone who loves you unconditionally?
Reaching up I place my hand on top of his and squeeze.
“I know all of you do. It’s just… I’m scared.
My first time was robbed from me, and I have to live with that forever.
Going into heat and being with a pack of men I don’t even know is overwhelming.
A part of me is afraid something bad will happen.
But the thought of going through one alone is even more daunting.
” I let out a sigh as my lip quivers. I refuse to cry.
“That’s not going to happen,” he growls, spinning the chair around so I have to face him.
“There’s no fucking way any of us are going to let anyone hurt you.
Torin will vet anyone that you choose. We’ll have it at a safehouse.
And I know this makes you uncomfortable, but we’ll be there to make sure nothing happens that you don’t want.
” He wipes the tears from my face. “We’re not your alphas but we will take care of you, River.
Just like Storm would if he could be here. ”
“But it’s too dangerous,” I whisper. “Because we don’t know if anyone is looking for me.”
“You know it still is. Someone was looking into the death of the Hartman Pack. If someone hadn’t tried to reopen the case six months ago, we would’ve felt you were safe. We need to make sure they’ve moved on before…”
I reach up, taking hold of his wrist. “I know. Thank you.”
He lets go of me and steps back. “Just think about it. If you truly are planning for next month, then don’t take what’s in that box. We’re going to have pizza and wings for dinner, Callax and Josh should be home in an hour with the food. Join us.”
I nod my head. He turns and leaves the house, shutting the door behind him.
I lift my finger to my mouth and nervously bite on my lip as I think about what the hell I’m going to do.
Can I really go through a heat with a pack? I think to myself as I slide back down into my chair.
My knee begins to jump as my foot taps the floor.
The compulsion to cut takes over and tries to claw its way back to the forefront, but I push it away again.
I can’t go back to that. Not now. Not if I want to continue to heal and move forward on a positive path.
Therapy. I need to call and schedule some more appointments.
Especially if I decide to go off the suppressants to have my heat, I’m going to need some extra sessions to deal with all the emotions it’s going to bring forward.
I pick up the box, holding it in my hands as if the answer will magically appear. But it doesn’t. This is a choice I’m going to need to make for myself. If I do it now, I have the guys behind me, protecting me, making sure it goes the way it should. If I wait, I may not have that luxury.
Forty minutes pass, and I finally make my decision. Placing the box back on my desk, I stand and leave my little apartment and head to the main house. I’ve barely stepped on the porch when I hear the loud, boisterous voices of the men inside.
I open the door and step inside, immediately being hit with all their scents. Coffee, cinnamon, pine and spearmint. It’s familiar. It’s home, but not.
“I was about to come get you.” Torin steps into the living room from the kitchen, taking my hand in his and pulls me behind him. “The guys just got home with the food.”
“I…umm... I want to talk to the four of you about something.”
“Go ahead, short stack,” Callax’s deep timber voice says as he places a couple slices of pizza on a plate and then does the same for another plate, adding an extra one to it and sets it down at the table. “Sit,” he tells us, giving Torin a playful wink.
“I’m going to do a heat cycle, but I have conditions.”
“What are they?” Josh asks, placing glasses of soda in front of me and Torin.
“I want it at a safehouse like you mentioned today, Tav. But I don’t want them to ask me any personal questions, use an alpha bark, or try to mark me.”
“Done,” they all say in unison.
Torin reaches under the table, placing his hand on my knee in comfort.
“I don’t want to know their names or for them to know mine. I don’t want them to show up until I absolutely need them. And as soon as the haze is over, I want them to leave. The less time I have to spend with them, the better. And condoms. They have to wear condoms.”
“The three of them can make sure all that happens. Now eat,” Torin whispers as he removes his hand and picks up a slice of pizza.
I can do this. I just need boundaries.