Chapter Nineteen
Millie
Pete.
Here and on pack land. He was going to see me. Going to know. So, what did I do? I ran off, hoping that he didn’t see me.
I’d known Pete since I was a child, and not seeing him was one of the biggest benefits of college. He was a power-hungry piece of crap. Thank the goddess, he never got any. As it was, he made omegas and those he saw as less thans’ lives miserable.
Pete wasn’t a driver, that was the thing. It wasn’t his job. He’d always fixed shit around the sleuth as his contribution. Nothing more. Why was he here? For me? Had my father sent him? Was he planning on taking me back?
I wouldn’t put it past my father, if he thought he was wronged, to do anything to make it right again. And he absolutely did think he was wronged…by me. By the stunt that I pulled, and by default, by my mates who bought me for pennies compared to what he thought he was going to get.
I ran and ran and ran, trying to figure out the best place to hide. In the house where I could lock the doors was the logical choice, but that also meant I’d be trapped. My mates would protect me if I cried out for them, but they shouldn’t have to. No. The cabin was a bad choice.
What if Pete asked to use the bathroom? They’d let him in, right? Not knowing I was there, of course they would. They didn’t know what I knew. To them, Pete was nothing more than a delivery driver.
I didn’t have time to tell them who he was, so I ran away from our home instead and hid in between the woodpiles. After I settled in, I saw the wisdom in my decision. There was an axe there if need be.
My bear wouldn’t be strong enough to fight Pete on my own, and it would only take seconds for him to severely harm me.
But, could I wield an axe? I mean, possibly.
Hiding didn’t make me a strong alpha, so it wasn’t a guarantee.
If anything, hiding made me a coward, and as weak as everyone claimed omegas were.
Crap, why was I talking myself down instead of getting myself ready for action?
I planned to stay put until I heard the truck leave and then go find my mates. Only, when it did leave, I couldn’t convince myself to move, scared that it wasn’t over, that he was still there and I’d been hearing things.
Felix found me first. He held out his arms, and I ran into them, holding him close. My body trembled in his embrace.
“Oh, sweetheart, I’ve got you. I’ve got you. Please tell me what happened.”
“He’s from my ex-sleuth. He shouldn’t have been here. He’s from my sleuth. He’s from my sleuth. He shouldn’t have been here.” I tried to get the whole story out, but instead, I just kept repeating the same words over and over again.
I half recognized that he was calling my other mates, and soon, it was the four of us standing by the woodpile, their arms around me, protecting me, holding me close, keeping me safe. And when they had me so well protected, my words came. I told them about Pete.
I told them about his job at the pack, how he didn’t do deliveries, how I didn’t trust him, how he was always trying to work his way up the sleuth hierarchy.
I told them how he’d made unsavory comments to me about the things he wanted to do to me, how he was one of many bullies.
But I kept bringing it back to the fact that he wasn’t supposed to be there.
“I’ll look into this,” Tyrone said. “Why don’t you and the others go inside? Have some tea or chocolate or snuggles, whatever will help ease you the most while I make some calls.”
I agreed, and we went inside. I sat on the couch with them on either side of me, waiting for Tyrone to do what Cannon called his magic. Tyrone had connections in all sorts of places. His former role made that a reality.
He came back inside less than an hour later.
“You’re right, Millie. He wasn’t supposed to be here.
The company we had the delivery from? He doesn’t work for them at all.
He’s not on their payroll. He’s not on their to-be-hired list. He’s not on their applicant list. I can’t even find him related to somebody who works for them. He was not supposed to be here.”
I pulled my knees up and hugged them. It was worse than I thought. It meant, somewhere there was a delivery driver who… I couldn’t even think about it.
“Millie, I hate to say this.” Cannon’s hand settled on my knee. “But we’re going to need to meet with your father. These games have to stop.”
“He won’t let them stop,” I whispered. “Not ever. This is who he is.”
“Well, if they won’t stop”—Cannon’s voice shifted, growing less human—“then we’re going to have to end him. It’s as simple as that. It’s his choice.”
And Cannon was serious. They would kill my father over letting him torment me in this way.
It shouldn’t be so hot seeing them like this.
I should be wanting them to change their minds, to remember he was my father.
Only it was that hot, and no part of me cared that my father was about to sign his own death warrant.