Page 121 of Fight

Tommy: You know I don’t give two shits about propriety, baby girl. Fuck, and now I have to talk to these assholes while hard. Thanks, baby. I need a photo to get through this time of need.

Snorting at his dramatics, I snap a photo of my eyes crossed and send it to him. Two minutes later, I receive various messages from the guys because Tommy shared the photo with them.

Jasper: Did you know that your eyes do that when you come?

Augustine: Fuck, I should have stayed home so I could break that new chair in.

Gabriel: I’m going to imagine you topless in that chair while I beat the hell out of my opponent in the ring tonight.

Giggling, I shake my head as I knit, excited to see them. For not being able to stand the sight of Jas and Tommy, to missing them, it’s funny how fast things change. The way they worked together to make me come last night makes me shiver in need, and I groan.

“I can’t be horny while they’re gone,” I mutter. “It’s just not fair.”

Tossing down my yarn and needles, I get up to twitch my curtains into place, touch the soft material of a new pillow I bought, and hug a squishy stuffed animal I touched while shopping yesterday, so Auggie insisted I needed it.

Each man in my pack fills something I need. I didn’t really understand that mates could be like this because of what I was taught by my mom.

Tommy reminds me it’s okay to be vulnerable when I’m sad, and that my past has made me stronger in a lot of ways. Jasper’s voice fills my mind whenever I start to tell myself my need for order is ridiculous, allowing me to feel more accepted.

He also doesn’t worry about challenging my brattiness. He spanked me during sex last night, and I almost fucking came. Jasper just smirked and asked if his Mistress liked it when he punished me.

Fuck, I’m officially dickmatized.

And Gabriel… God, he’s fucking wonderful. He tempers the wildness in the guys. I can see him being the voice of reason during a heat.

Jasper: Be a good girl, Tiny. We want all your orgasms… Unless you’re planning to video call us again.

“Where the fuck are you, anyway?” I sigh, shivering at his text as my pussy clenches around air. Great, now I’m talking to my fucking uterus. Just perfect.

My phone buzzes in my hand as I walk to the mini fridge Augustine relocated from my closet to my bedroom. Frowning, I see Weeping Willow Home’s number scroll over my caller ID.

“Hello?” I ask, my surprise seeping into my tone. The last time I went to see her was almost three years ago. I’ve been terrified to go back, ever since the doctor told me I was part of her psychosis and delusions, likely making them worse.

How do you go back after that?

“Good morning, Miss Quinn,” says a calm voice. “I am your mother’s new psychiatrist, Dr. Brunes, and I wanted to let you know she’s been asking about you lately.”

“That’s not possible,” I say immediately. “Mama loses her shit whenever I go to see her. I don’t see her asking for me. I’m sorry, are you sure you have the right number?”

I know he asked for me, but I’m having a hard time with this.

“I can assure you that I do,” he says, sounding a bit miffed.

“Are you saying she’s better?” I ask with a squeak. It’s silly for me to hold onto this idea, but there’s a part of me that misses her desperately.

“No, she’s not,” he says gently. “I want to try something new, and you’re her only listed family member.”

Mama cut ties with her entire family when she went on the run after she was kidnapped. She couldn’t tell me why the alphas of Pack Cockburn kept finding her, and a part of me wonders if they bit and bonded her against her will.

Without her claiming them back, the connection between them wouldn’t be as strong, but it would be enough to attempt to track her.

If she was too far away, the connection would be too faint, which is why she kept running. Now, she’s safe, even if they may still be looking for her. It’s been so many years since she was with them, I would hope they’d get over her.

“I don’t think this will go well, but I can come see her,” I murmur. It may soothe my unease today. I feel like I should be doing something, even though there’s nothing for me to do. I’m supposed to be having a chill day.

“Today?” he insists as I blink slowly at the phone.

“Yes,” I sigh, unsure why he’s being so pushy. “I need to drive there, but it’ll be today.”

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