Page 21 of Who We Were

"I'm fine," I choke out, lowering my gaze with no intention of looking up.

I know Paul wants to push for more information, but I step forward and give him a pleading gaze. He stiffens, but my eyes drop too fast to figure out what his expression might give away.

"Mr. Jenkins," Paul greets, voice filled with violence. "Let's get this over with."

I don't hear much after that hoping to save myself and my omega from the ongoing rejection of our mate's flat voice and standoffish posture. It's all a low drone beyond the pounding of my broken heart anyway.

The pen nudged into my freezing fingers is hardly felt; the numbness having seeped to my extremities. I sign the dotted lines, just following Paul's pointed finger.

It doesn't matter anyway. None of it does.

All I have now is the hope sparking in my heart that maybe, just maybe, Paul feels some kind of protective instincts toward me. Maybe his aggressive posture and growly tone areon mybehalf.

Kate was right. There are always multiple sides of a story.

I won't ever know Samuel's side if his obvious rejection and hatred is anything to go by. But maybe it's time I solve Paul's.

I'm at the door now, my feet having taken me here with Paul's direction. At my back, he gathers the paperwork, and Samuel leans back in his chair. Tears haven't stopped flowing since his glass door opened, but they continue with a vengeance at my mate’s next dismissal.

"The door, Ms. Rose."

I choke and die inside all at once.

"Consider any further business from us terminated," Paul,my dad,growls at Samuel before storming toward me and snatching my hand.

Maybe I'm not as alone as I thought.

16

SAMUEL

SEVENTEEN YEARS OLD

Just pulled in. Be there soon

Hopefully my message will keep Oliver chill. The little shit has zero patience, especially when it comes to Amaya. He's also jealous, and I can't help but puff my chest out a little as I climb her front steps.

Today is my day to pick her up for school, and just like every time, I'm going to make the ten-minute drive the best ten minutes of our day.

I may not have a ridiculously large smile to give Amaya like my brother or the calm effect of Emmett, but she's my girl and I wouldn't give her up for anything. She doesn't know it yet, but I'm hers, forever.

With a little pep in my step, I knock on the peeling white door. I bounce on the balls of my feet while I wait for Amaya to answer. My happiness dims the longer I'm left waiting, replaced with concern. Protectiveness rises with each passing moment until my fist curls and bangs on the door again.

My throat strains on a noise I'm not equipped to make yet when crashing and glass shattering sounds through the door. The cursing voice of Amaya's mom comes next, but before I can bust the damn door down, it's thrown open.

Stephanie fills the doorway reeking of alcohol and, to my horror, piss. Stifling my gag, I meet her glare with one of my own.

"Where is she?" I demand, my voice coming out thunderous. The throaty rumble ripping from my chest startles me.That's a first.It has the same effect on Amaya's piece of shit mom too, because she jolts and seems to snap out of her drunken haze.

Annoyed by her own reaction, she narrows her gaze on me. "The fuck do you want, kid?"

"Where's Amaya?"

I'm getting impatient and fidgety, almost like something is rippling beneath my skin. Kind of like a beast waking up from a slumber and stretching its arms in the tight confines of my simple seventeen-year-old body.

The bitch smirks, making my stomach drop. "Gone."

"What do you mean gone?" I snap, not missing a beat.

---