Page 38 of Knot All That Glitters: Part 2

“Not sexual enough, huh?” I scoff, folding my arms over my stomach. I hope it looks standoffish and strong, when what it really is is me trying to comfort myself, hold my insides in after they’ve eviscerated me so completely.

The four of them look at each other and I wonder what their pack bond is saying.

Finally, Hale looks at me with those icy blue eyes of his and says softly, like I’m the mouse he calls me and he doesn’t want to make me scurry away, “We fucked up, we get that. We would like to explain if you’ll let us.”

“Explain?” How can they possibly think any explanation they give me will be enough to make up for the heartache I feel? How can it be enough to justify the betrayal? The way they used me, no doubt intending to discard me, when they were finished?

“Yes, baby girl. Explain.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Creed’s hands curl into fists, like he’s keeping himself from reaching for me, which is good because I’d be likely to bite his hand like an injured, cornered dog if he tried.

Tic clears his throat, dragging my attention over to him. “Will you sit and have some food, Haven?”

I want to deny him, deny them. But that would only hurt myself. After all, I haven’t really eaten in the last few weeks since my father put me back on his nutritionist approved diet. The one meant to abolish my omega curves and make me look more like a beta.

In answer, I move to the island and take a seat the farthest from all of them as I can, perching myself on the stool and folding my arms over my chest as I wait.

Tic doesn’t hesitate, pulling open the fridge and grabbing out a plastic wrap covered charcuterie board. He slides it in front of me and then moves a bowl of sliced French bread next to it. “Dinner’s not ready yet, but you can get started on this.”

I frown down at the offering. All of my favorite cheeses in perfect slices, the cured meats arranged in neat rows, the grapes and olives and pickled vegetables. There are also crackers and two types of jam: fig and hot pepper.

My stomach grumbles, but I can’t bring myself to eat it yet. My mind flickering back to the doctor telling me I’d been dosed with InstyxBurn that forced my heat. I’m not sure any of the food in front of me could be drugged, but I don’t know. I watched Tic make me a smoothie every morning and never once saw him put anything in it that looked suspicious.

Though there was that dropper bottle he told me was vitamin d.

“Can I get you something to drink?” Creed asks solicitously.

Now that is something they can drug for sure. I’m dying for some water, but I don’t trust that they wouldn’t have alreadyprepped a glass with some kind of chemical.Don’t be ridiculous. Tic gave you something to burn out the chemicals in your system, Haven.

My omega nods and adds that they wouldn’t hurt us.They’re our alphas. They only want to protect us. Help us. Care for us.

I push that thought aside. “Seltzer. In a can. Unopened.”

The four of them pause for the longest moment, likely reading into that exactly what they should. But in the next moment, they all move. Creed to the fridge, Jude reaches over and grabs some of the cheese, popping it into his mouth and chewing vigorously, staring at me the entire time like ‘see? It’s safe.’

Tic turns back to whatever he’s making on the stove and Hale goes back to his laptop, fingers flying over the keys. I pluck a grape from the board and pop it into my mouth. The first taste of the juice has me groaning as my stomach growls and demands that devour every slice of cheese and cured meat in front of me.

Who cares if I end up high out of my mind?

Creed carefully sets an unopened can in front of me and then steps away. Eyes focused on me. Actually, all of them are watching me. Even Tic, who should be watching the food. I ignore them in favor of attacking the sustenance in front of me. Eating in silence until a quarter of the food is gone and my stomach is no longer trying to devour itself.

Feeling better for the calories and the seltzer (which is just as good as water, right?) I take a deep breath and decide it’s best to just get this over with.

“I’d like to leave,” I say, voice quiet but strong. “Please. I don’t want… You got me away from my father, and I appreciate that, but I-I can’t stay here.”

Hale pins me with an unamused look, shutting his laptop and swiveling to face me. “Where the hell do you think you can go, little mouse? Where else will you be safe?”

I hesitate. He sees it. His grin grows. “Where, mouse?” he presses. “You gonna put Florence and her family at risk? You said your dad threatened her already. What will he do if you go to her?”

At AOA, one of our teachers, a sweet middle-aged omega named Elise Levenseller, made sure every omega in her care memorized the contact information for at least three groups that specialized in omega rights. She hoped we would never need to use them, but she wanted us to be prepared all the same. I still remember them to this day. In fact, when things got really bad with my father, I used Florence’s phone to look them up online. I never took the plunge, but there’s no time like the present.

“There are groups that protect omegas from bad alphas. I’ll go to one of them.”

“Are you calling us bad alphas, baby girl?”

“Yes,” I say without hesitation. “You are almost as bad as my father, and that’s saying something.”

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