Page 110 of Broken Dreams

My body flinches at being called out. He’s absolutely right, but am I a killer? Would I be sad if Christian was no longer in the world? Ugh, I think I’m having an existential crisis.

“That’s a bit extreme,” I grunt instead.

“Want to tell me what he is to you?” he asks.

“He says that he’s my scent match, but I don’t know if that’s true,” I explain.

We’re in his office so I wouldn’t have to worry about judgmental people. Sure, the other dancers have been great so far, but you never know when people will turn on you.

“How do you not know, unless you’re on alpha pheromone blockers?” he asks.

“I’m not,” I say. “The club I was at before did a lot of fucked up shit so there was no way that I’d ever know if I was scent matched to someone.”

His brows knit together as he nods slowly. I know that Duncan and Callum told him a bit about the situation in case something happened.

“Do you know if it can be reversed?” he asks, surprising me.

“Ah, the shots he gave us controlled a lot, including my heats. I did some research the other day and found out that the body will begin to metabolize and work through medications at different rates,” I tell him. “Based on what I could find, my body will work through this. There’s no way for me to know how long it’ll take though.”

I’ve been doing this research without telling anyone, because I wanted to know if it was possible for my body to work itself through the shit he’s been pumping into my system for the past ten years. The issue is that since it’s been so long, and I don’t know the specifics of the cocktail, I can’t look up how long it’ll stay in my body without another dose.

I’m flying blind, and I’m frustrated about it. While I want to build my relationship with the brothers without the added complications of biology, I’m jealous of the closeness Quinn has with them.

I’m a mess, which means I’m trying to fall back on intellect and logic. Before Slick Dreams, it’s what never let me down, I could always depend on it to make sense. There’s no logic that’ll change how depraved Bret was. I saw too many omegas die due to his never ending greed.

While some of the snuff episodes were by accident, Bret organized others when an alpha or pack would approach him with their fantasy. All he ever asked in return outside of cash was to watch.

“It may be a good idea to run a blood test panel,” Augustine suggests. “It’ll help you be able to see what the levels are of different types of drugs, or what you may be deficient in.”

“I will. I hadn’t thought about that,” I admit. Glancing at the time, I see that Callum and Duncan are due to come pick me up. Now that I’m reminded of my shift being over, I want to know how Quinn is.

“They’re here,” Augustine says gently. “My phone is blowing up.”

My lips curl up, because it sounds like them.

“I’m going to text them to meet us at the office so you can go out the side exit,” he says, pulling out his phone to do that. “While we kicked that guy out, and there are guards now walking around the property, it’s better to be safe than sorry.”

“Thank you,” I say. “For everything. I’m kind of having a really weird day.”

“I could tell by how hard you danced,” he says. “No one throws themselves around a cage for two hours without having to work through some shit.”

He must see my cringe, because he shakes his head as he stands. “You misunderstand. Everyone at the club loved it. I think they all danced harder to match your energy. However, I could tell you were in a mood.”

“I’ve burned a lot of it off, but I’m still in a funk,” I sigh, standing. “Christian chose a bad time to surprise me.”

“I’m not saying violence is always the best policy, but some people have a hard time understanding they’ve fucked up until it literally hits them in the face,” Augustine mutters, leading me out to meet my alphas.

As I see them, a smile spreads across my face. A real one. As much as I agonize about my own shit, they are mine. I know that.

“You okay?” Duncan asks, his gaze bouncing over me until he sees me still holding the ice pack. “Show me.”

The growl is packed with an alpha bark, and I immediately lift my hand for him to see, pulling away the ice. I don’t even mind it, because it’s kind of hot.

His large hands cup the hand I offer him, carefully checking it over.

“It’s not any more swollen than I’d expect it to be if one of us punched someone,” Callum says, crowding Duncan.

Augustine hides a smile, saying, “Christian may have a broken nose. There was a good amount of blood. Security is tighter now so he won’t get back in. I’d suggest going out the door behind us though. I’ll see you in a couple of days, Linus.”

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