Chapter 16
Leo
Istorm through my house and head straight for the low music and hum of voices in the backyard.
Monday evening, my dad’s poker night. The back screen door slams against the wall as I barrel through it.
Four sets of eyes swing to me, the coloured lights giving the patio a warm glow. I zone in on one set.
Marching over, I haul my father out of his chair by the scruff of his shirt and swing, cracking my fist across his cheek and following through to break his nose.
He doesn’t even get a chance to bring his hands up.
I shove him to the ground and hit him on repeat, my fist coating in his blood as I punch him over and over again.
Arms pull me off him, hauling me back by the armpits. Voices, men’s voices, rise with anger, alarm, but my gaze is fixed on my father’s. He’s blinking, panting, trying to regain his sense of reality. His eyes find mine and stay there. I’m heaving in the hold, staring the old man down.
“Come near him again and I’ll fucking kill you!”
He wipes at his face and sits up. Arms tug me back as if they think I’m going to go at him again.
And I probably would too. But if he agrees, I’ll let this go.
Oh, I’ll never speak to him again, but I’ll do him the courtesy of not killing him.
Threatening my mate like that, telling him to kill himself—Terry told me what my father had left for Addie to use.
The goddamn fucking son of a bitch.
“I did it for you,” my father says, turning his face to spit blood. “He was always going to drag you down. You’re ruining your life, bonding that whore.”
I lunge, thrashing in their hold. Arms drag me back, the glow of the patio fading as I’m tugged inside.
“You’re a dead man! A fucking dead man!” I scream as I’m dragged into the kitchen, past my omega mother, who’s staring at me like I’m some deranged stranger. “You don’t get to speak about him! You hear me?! I’ll kill you. I’m going to fucking kill you!”
It’s Frank and Marshall holding me, the second and third in charge from the factory. Both betas, I’ve known them all my life. They shove me out the front door.
“Go walk it off,” Marshall says. “We don’t wanna get the cops involved.”
“Fuck you!” I yell at him. “Fuck all of you!”
I turn and stride back across the front lawn to the curb where Terry’s idling in front of the house, wiping my bloody knuckles on my shirt.
“Feel better?” Terry asks, handing me my phone.
“Marginally,” I bite out and look at the phone.
“He called too,” Terry says as he puts it in gear.
There’s a message. I swipe open the phone.
Are u alright? You feel ANGRY.
And another text, Terry said ur with ur dad. Please don’t let him hurt you. Not over this.
I snort and scowl at the same time. Addie’s self-effacing attitude really pisses me off.
Your lack of faith in me is heartwarming, I type and add a laughing emoji. Hit send.
Then I add, And you’re worth it. I’d die for you, when are you gonna get that?
A laughing emoji meets the first message before the text bubble pops up.
Don’t u dare fucking die.
I shake my head, type quickly, Now you know how I feel.
It’s bitter, maybe kind of petty, but when Terry confirmed what I was pretty sure Addie had been talking around, I’d been beyond furious. Like, if furious was a journey to Antarctica, I’d overshot Antarctica and ended up at the Arctic.
The feelings flood the bond before the words pop up on the phone.
I’m sorry.
Don’t apologise, I type angrily. Stop apologising. I’m—
I stop myself, I don’t want to order Addie around, so I’m not going to ban him from apologising. I delete that and try to put this another way.
You don’t have anything to be sorry for, not ever. Please just look after yourself.
I get a thumbs up, a smiley face, and a love heart.
U too, for me, he sends back.
Is Carson there? I type, even though I know he is. And that Will is already in the bar at the brothel ready to take over. That’ll cover tonight. The guys have come in clutch, no questions asked. I’m going to miss them so much.
Yes, he’s telling me stories.
I groan but can’t help chuckling. That’s going to get embarrassing. I once flew hungover—only once—and managed not to throw up while in the air, but vomited copiously once I got back to base. Carson had been my wingman on the exercise, and he’d been hysterical with laughter.
Don’t listen to anything he says. He’s a liar.
He said ur virgin ass wouldn’t even look at anyone. Is that a lie?
I blush, but I’m smiling too.
Guilty as charged. I beam with pride. Now, that’s not embarrassing. Not at all. I was right to wait for my mate.
Good, Addie sends back, and I feel the pulse of warmth-love-arousal come down the bond. I rub my head and huddle down in the seat, shooting Terry a quick glance. Could we do phone sex via text while both being accompanied by members of my squad?
I can practically feel Addie laughing at me down the bond.
Soon, he sends. And yeah, fair call—I don’t really want Addie slicking up around anyone else. Even Carson, who I’d trust with my life. Have trusted with my life.
Soon, I send back. It’s a promise.
“Okay,” I say to Terry, feeling much calmer. “What’s the plan?”
Terry shoots me a grin and proceeds to tell me the shittiest plan ever.
Hiring the Reapers is starting to sound better and better. Except …
Addie is mine. And I protect what’s mine.
“Let’s do this.”