Page 18 of Knot Like Other Girls

"Attempted murderer," I correct him under my breath. I meet Mrs. Worthington's irritated gaze. "But of course. Whatever Braxley needs."

She nods, satisfied with my submission. "That's right, dear. Now, why don't you go fetch us some decent coffee? This hospital swill is simply dreadful."

It's not a request, and we all know it. I stand, grateful for the excuse to escape, even if just for a few minutes.

As I make my way down the hospital corridor, my steps slow. I don't want to go back to that room. I don't want to spend another minute listening to Braxley's complaints or watching his parents enable his every ridiculous whim.

I want... I'm not sure what I want.

Freedom? Escape? A life that's my own?

But those are dangerous thoughts. Thoughts I can't afford to entertain. Not when my family is counting on me.

Not when I have nowhere else to go.

Especially if it's decidedly my fault if everything falls apart.

I'm so lost in my own head that I almost collide with a group of men standing near the elevator. It takes me a moment to recognize them as Braxley's security team.

"Oh," I say, startled. "I'm sorry, I didn't see you there."

One of the beefy clones offers me a tight smile. "No worries, miss. We were just heading out."

"Heading out?" I repeat, then understanding dawns. "Oh. You've been..."

"Fired," another one of the men supplies, not bothering to hide his relief. "Apparently, we failed in our duty to protect Mr. Worthington.. Even though he didn't need our help."

I wince, remembering Braxley's dramatic retelling of events. The reality—that he ran and hid, abandoning his almost-fiancée to fend for myself—doesn't quite fit his heroic narrative.

"I'm sorry," I say, and I mean it. These men don't deserve to lose their jobs because of Braxley's ego. "That's not fair."

The tallest bodyguard shrugs. "Comes with the territory. Rich folks and their tantrums, you know how it is."

I do know. All too well.

"Well," I say, suddenly feeling awkward. "I guess this is goodbye then. Thank you for... everything."

They exchange glances, seeming surprised by my gratitude. The one with a light scrape of stubble steps forward, taking off his sunglasses so he can look me in the eyes. I don't think I've ever seen his eyes before. They're dark brown and crinkled at the corners. Surprisingly kind.

"Listen, kiddo," he says, his voice low. "You seem like a nice girl. So let me give you some advice." He pauses, glancing around to make sure we're alone. "Get out while you can."

I blink, taken aback by his bluntness. "I... what?"

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Look, we've worked for a lot of entitled assholes over the years. But that guy? He's something else. And his family? They're worse. You don't want to get mixed up in all that."

I open my mouth to protest, to defend Braxley and the Worthingtons, but the words die in my throat. Because he's right. Deep down, I know he's right.

"I can't," I whisper, hating how weak I sound. "It's... complicated."

The man nods, understanding in his eyes. "It always is. Just... be careful, okay? And good fuckin' luck. You're gonna need it."

He sticks out his hand for a handshake and I take it, even though I'm an omega and not exactly supposed to shake strange alphas' hands. His meaty fingers completely envelope my small hand and he gives it a gentle squeeze with a tight smile.

With that, they file into the elevator, leaving me standing alone in the corridor, their words echoing in my head.

Get out while you can.

If only it were that simple.

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