Page 17 of Bonding the Band

Phin leaned on the door. “Thanks for taking care of him.”

“Of course,” Gary said softly. “Someone has to.”

I almost burst out laughing. If any of them knew how Gary was taking care of me, they’d probably push him in front of a bus, but they would realize really fucking fast why he was doing what he was doing. Without Gary keeping me in line, I would fall apart in no time at all.

They had all worked so hard. Their careers didn’t deserve to suffer because I was a hot fucking mess. I just wished Gary had different answers sometimes. Too exhausted to perform? Drugs. Too overwhelmed and anxious for VIP visits? Drugs. Can’t sleep? Drugs.

It was fucking endless.

Sometimes I wanted to get off that goddamn hamster wheel. I couldn’t stop. If I did, I’d get flung off straight into the future I was already terrified of.

The 27 Club had an opening with my name on it. I didn’t want it.

I focused on breathing, even as my body started to react to whatever Gary had given me.

I had to stay.

I wanted to stay.

Didn’t I?

Chapter 8

Meadow

June, Seattle

Trying to write a comparative literary analysis on Chaucer stories would usually be a breeze. Except that I was working on it in the waiting room of the campus clinic, feeling like death warmed over. Finding out I was pregnant was stressful enough, but none of the baby-safe remedies I had tried were helping at all. So, back to the clinic I went, hoping they would have some magic cure I hadn’t thought of.

“Meadow Reed?” the nurse called out.

I closed my book and clutched it to my chest as I followed her back to one of the exam rooms.

“The doctor will be right with you.”

My PCP was too far to go to, and I wasn’t entirely sure how confidential it would be since both of my parents went there as well and it was a small town outside Seattle. Despite privacy regulations, no one kept anyone’s business to themselves in small towns. For now I would stick to the campus clinic for my own sanity.

I fidgeted while I waited, reading over the same sentence about twenty times before the doctor finally knocked and slipped into the room. “Hello there. I hear you’re having some struggles with your symptoms?”

“It’s miserable,” I confessed. “I’m exhausted and nauseated all the time. Nothing really helps, and I can’t keep powering through. Icannotstart failing my classes.”

“We’ll get everything figured out. Let me ask a few questions so we can narrow down the issues. Have you been having regular contact with your pack?”

“Um…”

“Oh dear.” She gave me a concerned look. “Have you still not told them? Are there safety concerns?”

I huffed out a sigh. “It’s not that. As far as I know, the father’s not even in the country right now. I haven’t tried getting in contact yet.”

“Well, I can give you some medication that might help, but honestly, the best cure is going to be your pack. The hormones released when you’re in close proximity, specifically with the alpha who fathered the child, reduce most symptoms for omegas. I strongly encourage you to reach out to them and see if they’ll come back and take care of you.”

“I’ll just take the medicine, thanks.”

The doctor frowned, muttering something about how unusual I was for an omega. “Do you have any support system to aid you during your pregnancy?”

“My roommate’s been great,” I told her.

“At least you havesomeone. I do have to warn you, though, that it’s entirely possible your symptoms are worse because you’ve separated a recent bond. I cannot believe an alpha would be so irresponsible as to leave the country after bonding an omega.”

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