Page 72 of Knot All That Glitters: Part 2

I don’t even want to contemplate that they went with my father, that they’ve likely witnessed him having sex, seen his ‘O’ face. Gross. Even worse, my father probably learned what they look like when they come before I did.

Yuck to the tenth degree.So much yuck.

In a blur, I make my way upstairs and into the bathroom attached to my bedroom. I’m vaguely aware that something looks out of place, but don’t bother trying to figure it out. There’s a headache forming behind my eyes, and my nose is stuffed up. My fingers and toes are tingling painfully. I just want to get warm.

I spend too long in the bath to avoid the conversation that I know is coming and because even after scrubbing three times from head to toe, I still don’t feel clean.

I can’t keep doing this, can’t hang on to the idea that the Calloways might figure out the one thing that will make all of this better. I can’t hold on to the idea of them being my pack.

I know they think I have already let go, but if I’m honest with myself, I very much have still hoped that they’d magically be able to make this okay. That they’ll figure out how to wipe away the memory of all those videos, of the spreadsheet, of the comments to each other that I didn’t understand at the time, but that make sense now.

You aren’t even on the board.

I’m on the board now, motherfucker.

It’s why I was resistant to Ren’s suggestion that I reach out to scent clinics. Hope.

But hope is a dangerous thing.

It’s not ‘the thing with feathers, that perches in the soul.’ That makes it sound harmless. Soft. It’s not. The longer I let this go on, the longer I let them fool me into thinking they might not be such bad guys…

How many more times am I going to have moments like this?

Where I find out some action they’ve taken in the past that makes my skin crawl, all while my stupid omega is begging me to just let them do whatever they want. To let them take care of me.

This life is better than the one I had with my father. There’s no doubt about that, but it isn’t the life I deserve. I deserve stability. To know the pack I’m with hasn’t manipulated me into getting their way. I need to find a pack that is safe and bland and would never dream of hurting an omega. I need a pack that doesn’t have a dead fated mate that I will never live up to.

The Calloway pack might want to keep me, but they won’t ever be able to love me the way I need. It’s not possible for fated mates who have lost the other half of their soul.

As I dry off and get dressed, I make my decision. It’s time to move on, to take steps for my life after all this is over. Belinda will help us take down my father, finally. She didn’t say as much, but I fully intend on asking her for all the information she has that might hurt my father.

I’ll need a place to go once he’s been taken care of. I can stay with Ren for the short term, but depending on the form my father’s demise takes, I might be left with nothing to my name. For example, if he “disappears” it can be years before he’s legally deemed dead. I’m not on any of his bank accounts. Hell, I don’t even know if his body shows up if I’m in his will. I might not be. It seems like something he’d do. Leave everything to one of his awful programs for the demise of the designations. Or maybe Brian. Why would he leave anything to me, when he never intended me to be anything but weak, beaten down, dependent entirely on him or Brian for everything?

No, I can’t bank on anything from his estate. So I need to look after myself and my future.

Decided, I weave my hair into a French braid, pull on the clothes someone left on the bed for me, and go to search for my laptop.

I find it downstairs in the empty living room. I don’t have to check that it’s mine, like I did before. When I got back, Jude bought so many laptop cases for me that I could swap them out every day of the month and I still wouldn’t use the same one twice.

Jude’s computer is now covered in a satin touch navy case. So we can be sure we’ll never mistake them.

I make my way downstairs. The pack seems to have disappeared into the house, or maybe they’re off planningFrederick’s demise without me. Which is fine. Just fine. I’m going to make a cup of tea and make plans of my own.

I settle on a stool at the island and open my laptop—antique jewel toned flowers with gold accents—and spend the next few minutes pulling up the three scent clinics in Granton and their intake forms.

A little thrill runs down my spine as the thud of footsteps reaches my ears, making their way toward the kitchen, toward me. I straighten in my chair and keep my eyes focused on the screen, ignoring when Jude saunters in, pausing at the sight of me.

“Okay, button?”

Pursing my lips, I nod. I’m not really okay, but I’m sure what he means is ‘physically am I okay?’ Which I am. “Yep, no toes lost.” I lift a foot and wiggle the little appendages at him.

I don’t have to look at him to know his mouth hooks into a smile at that. “You sure? Maybe I should check.”

“I know how to count to ten, Jude,” I say drily, opening the first of the scent clinic intake forms, and clicking into the first box.

He moves closer to me until he’s hovering just over my shoulder. “You sure you don’t want me to check? I can give your arches a rub while I’m at it.”

That’s tempting. Those stupid heels made my feet hurt something fierce, even after not wearing them for at least an hour. “I’m kind of busy at the moment.”

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