Page 15 of Cruel Knots

Callum never wavered from what he told me.

I kept hoping they’d turn up one day but after seven years of waiting, I’m forced to acknowledge the truth. My brother killed the three young men I’d fallen in love with. That had to be the only reason they never came to see me again.

Damien, Leon, and Mikhail were guilty of nothing. Yet, they paid the price of being my friends.

My brother shows no pity for our poor father. Part of me believes Callum was responsible for the accident that incapacitated Dad and chained him to the bed and a wheelchair. He even goes as far as to complain about the money Dad’s treatments cost him.

Callum quickly stepped in to fill Dad’s position. From then on, it didn’t take him long to steal control over Dad’s company and his assets. The more I think about it, the more it seems like a planned conspiracy.

“Could you hand me that towel, please?” I say, desperately looking for an excuse to get Callum off me.

He obliges. Unlocking his arms, he moves to the counter to grab me a towel.

“Thanks,” I say as he hands me a roll of kitchen napkins. “Would you like some coffee?”

“I came to speak to you about something,” he says, his expression turning grim. “How about we meet up in Dad’s room? He should probably know about it too.”

“What are you talking about?”

He boops my nose with a manic grin I’d come to fear. “If you’re curious, hurry up and join me in Dad’s bedroom.” With a chuckle, he turns around and walks out of the kitchen.

My body sags against the counter. Dealing with Callum in a calm, poised manner always drains me.

His possessive touches and flirty innuendos never stopped touching a nerve. I can also see how much he struggles to hold himself back when I resist him.

I’m lucky he hasn’t completely lost his mind and taken what he hungers for. His love isn’t that of a brother’s. His psychotic mind is only obsessed with possessing me and making sure I’m fully dependent on him.

To stay safe, I’ve been on a consistent dose of blockers and suppressors. The first thing I do every morning is to spray my body liberally with de-scenters, ensuring my natural perfume stays masked from my brother.

An outsider might think I’m overreacting but having lived with Callum for the past seven years, I’ve become wary of him and his intentions with me. I don’t want to leave anything to chance and risk driving him wild with a whiff of my natural perfume.

Callum even stopped me from going to school these past years. He insisted homeschooling was a safer option. It came as no surprise when he employed only female betas as my teachers.

I have a high school diploma but I never applied for college. I could never leave Dad under his care. Even if I decided to be selfish and go, Callum would never allow it in the first place.

He insisted I take online courses because a college campus was a dangerous and unsafe place for a sweet, innocent omega like me.

It has been suffocating to stay under Callum’s rule but abandoning Dad is also out of the question. So, I’ve been forced to stay home and become my dad’s caregiver.

Swallowing a sob, I bury the thoughts that bring me nothing but pain.

Going to the fridge, I start collecting the stuff I’d need to make a second batch of smoothies for Dad.

When the concoction is ready, I place the glass on a tray and make my way toward Dad’s room.

Anxiety settles in my gut. Whatever Callum is planning to tell us can’t be good for either Dad or me. Knowing there’s no way to resist his commands, I steel myself.

Reaching the room, I find Callum seated on a chair by Dad’s bed. He looks relaxed and in an unusually good mood as he taps his foot to an imaginary beat.

“Hey, Dad,” I say, moving toward him.

Dad’s face crumples into a frown but I’m familiar with this expression by now. He’s trying to smile at me.

Taking the glass, I help him hold it by wrapping his fingers around it securely. He can no longer chew food, so to eliminate the risk of him choking on bigger chunks, we feed him smoothies like this.

Callum clears his throat pointedly. He doesn’t like me paying attention to anyone else but him.

Straightening up, I face him. “What did you want to tell us?”

---