Page 17 of Forget

Unfortunately, as I crawl naked toward my bag of sex toys, I can’t seem to care.

If he was here, I would beg for his knot to fill my pussy. Slick slides down my thighs. My mind is spinning, and as a cramp comes over me, I scream. These pains are going to rip me apart.

“I’m not strong enough for this,” I scream again as tears roll down my face. My fingers reach out to pull a shopping bag to me, and I upend it in an effort to find something to help me. “Please, please, where are you?!”

It’s probably just as well that I’m all alone in this house, because I’m unraveling quickly.

There is my fluffy blanket, a candle, but nothing else in the bag. Breaths coming faster, I upend the next, only to find a book, a pocket knife and a note that reminds me that only whores need sex toys.

“I’ll damn well be a whore if I can come,” I groan, closing my eyes against the betrayal I’m feeling. I trusted Hayes to bring my fucking things inside, but instead he decided to steal my shit.

“I hate it here.”

Struggling, I pull the blanket and candle into the closet with me, grabbing the pocket knife as a second thought. If it gets toobad, I’ll use it to stab myself. At least then, I’ll feel peace, silence, and nothingness.

If I get really lucky, maybe I’ll get to see Mom. God, I miss her so much. My thoughts get really bleak as I shove my nose into the candle, inhaling it as if it’s crack. The label said it’s calledWitches Brew, and it was on clearance.

The notes of cinnamon, jasmine, and patchouli are unfortunately no match for the emptiness I’m feeling.

Tossing away the candle, I ignore where it rolls, deciding to masturbate instead. Over and over, I writhe in pain, my vocal cords straining as I scream in frustration and unending rage. Nothing is working. I’ve heard of packless omegas taking medication to knock them out during the duration of their heat, but thought it was just a rumor.

I don’t think that anything could be this bad. I was so incredibly wrong. I never want to do this again. Not ever.

The knife looks better and better as the hours pass. As I reach out for it, my eyes roll back and I convulse sharply from lack of water and food. The blackness that greets me is a blessing as it beckons. Why didn’t anyone ever warn me that you could die during this heat?

I don’t ever want to wake up if it means pain like this. I can’t bear it.

Chapter 4

Aisling

One month later

“Aisling,this is your decision, but medical sedation for your heat could be really dangerous,” Dad hisses, as if anyone could hear us outside.

I’ve made it a point now to avoid seeing Hayes since my heat. I’m still waking up to nightmares from it, one more traumatic incident to add to a long line of them.

“Dad, I can’t do it again,” I tell him, shaking my head furiously. “You don’t understand, it was awful. I had a knife and?—”

“Fuck!” he yells, rising to his feet and shoving his hands through his hair.

I was dehydrated and incredibly sick after a four day heat. I didn’t think they were supposed to last so long. I don’t even remember my mother going through them.

How did she get through them in our tiny apartment?There are suppressants, but did she find one that only suppressed her heat? It’s almost the two year anniversary of her death, and I still have so many questions I’ll never have answered.

Maybe if I had been older, she’d have felt more comfortable spilling her secrets to me.

“I can’t lose you, Aisling,” Dad snarls.

The door begins to open, and he turns toward it, his face transforming into a mixture of anger and intense grief.

“No! I don’t fucking care what you need, Hayes. I’m in a meeting with my daughter,” he says. “I do not want to be disturbed.”

“What does the little brat need?” Hayes asks, making me shudder.

I haven’t stopped using my alpha pheromone suppressant gel, even though I’m mostly home. It’s the only thing that’s routine in my very fucked up life. I spent so many days doing the same thing over and over that it gave me comfort. Now, nothing about what I eat, my life, or habits are natural, yet.

I can’t get settled. There’s an itch under my skin, and I can’t help but worry that maybe it’s my body telling me my that heat will be coming soon. It feels like it’s too soon, but that’s simply wishful thinking on my part.

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