Page 23 of Pack Baines

“I managed to crawl back to my room, called you, and then your dad came barging in like a raging bull. Beat the snot out of Hershal when he saw my blood still on his hands and arms. I don’t remember much after that. I think Kaleb carried me to the car and drove me to the hospital, but the memories are spotty at best. When I woke up, I was in a sterile hospital room, alone, terrified, and in agony. They told me I’d punctured a lung, broke my arm, and had cuts and bruises everywhere. They spent a long while taking photos and asking questions, but I was always alone.

“When I was well enough, I was shipped off to the nearest Centre, where they watched over me as I came into my designation. They tried to force me into a program where they’d match me with a pack, but I refused. I was kicked out at fifteen when I wouldn’t agree to be placed into foster care. Had a couple of families take me in, but they realized I came with too much baggage for them to deal with. Eventually, I found myself with the Burtons.”

I stop talking suddenly, my throat closing up at the mere mention of the pack that almost fucked me up worse than my own pack had. I drop my head, trying to take a steady breath that won’t come as easily as they did before.

Sensing my inner turmoil, Lowie leaves his position beside me and putters around the kitchen for a few seconds before returningwith two glasses and a bottle of raspberry-flavored vodka. Without uttering a word, he pours us both a drink and slides my glass over to me. I don’t hesitate in taking the shot, slinging it back like a pro, and pushing my glass toward Lowie for another. He obliges after taking his own shot, and I down that one, too. I keep my glass cradled in my hand instead of asking for another, knowing getting drunk isn’t the way to resolve my issues. A bit of liquid courage never hurt, though.

It’s a moment for the vodka to settle in my stomach before I finally take an even breath and continue telling my tales of woe.

“The Burtons were great on paper. Mother, father, three sons all my age or a year younger, all into academics and sports. Parents had money, not wealths of it, but enough to live comfortably. The boys all seemed close. They accepted me into the fold without hesitation. Little did I or social services know why that was until six months later,” I scoff, shaking my head for my stupidity. “I should have seen it, really. Should have known nothing that good ever comes without a cost.”

“What happened?” Lowie asks quietly, pouring himself another drink and tipping it back like he’s the one that needs the boost of alcohol to listen to the rest of my story.

I shrug. “Turns out they only accepted me because they were looking for a center to their pack. The sons, that is. The parents were trying to set up a pack for their boys, and I was meant to be the glue that held them together. After six months, they started hinting at the prospect of bonding with the sons. Those hints became a regular thing for a whole month until, one day, they sat me down and asked it outright. Said I’d be the perfect center for the boys. That they already liked me and wanted me to be theirs. I’d just turned sixteen by that point, had no feelings other than the fake sisterly feelings for them, and so I told them all no. Of course, that didn’t go down well.

“After that, the nice, pleasant, and even sweet family evaporated. I was starved most days unless the dinner lady at school took pity on me. The door to my room was taken away, privacy completely non-existent. I lost count of how many times the sonswould ‘accidentally’ walk in on me while I was changing. I wasn’t to ask for anything, go anywhere but school, and making friends was an abhorrent idea that was firmly frowned upon. If I wouldn’t accept the boys, then I’d have no one. They even took my cell away, replacing it with an old brick of a phone with only their numbers sitting in the contacts.

“When that didn’t work, they resorted to physical abuse, though not as bad as I had it with Hershal and co. The dad liked burning with cigarettes, the mother liked shoving me into things, bruising me in places that would be easily hidden. But the sons,” I shake my head, feeling sick, a small pang of guilt niggling its way beneath my skin while I downplay the abuse I suffered. After all, I have more scars since the last time they all saw me, and it wouldn’t be hard to guess who gave them to me. “They started groping me every time they passed by in the hallway. An ass grab here, a blatant brush of my breasts. One of them even pinned me to the wall near his room and told me I’d beg for his bite before the year was up, all the while running his hands all over me like I was his to touch. I ran away after that, never to see the Burtons again. I’ve been running ever since. From them, from Hershal and the Henley’s. Changed my name, moved far away, made sure I was a nobody just trying to scrape by. I’ve been taking online classes to make up for ditching school, applying for scholarships for universities. It was a miracle that I got into North U, but I did it. I was finally getting somewhere in the world, but it’s not without constant looking over my shoulder. I’m always looking for them, wondering if or when they’ll pop up and ruin everything I’ve worked for. It wasn’t safe for me to go back, and I didn’t have my phone to call any of you. I was on my own, for real, trying to hop from city to city until I found myself working for Mack a few months ago. Got my letter to North U after busting my balls to get here, left two weeks later, and now here I am. Sitting in your house, telling you all the shit I’ve been through in my life up until now.”

Silence follows my words, stretching between us, and I glance up from the glass in my trembling fingers. I find Lowie lookingat me with an array of emotions; guilt, agony, heartache, fury, sympathy. It all blends together to make a fierce look that would make me flinch if I didn’t know him.

“I’m sorry,” he rasps after a long moment, taking another shot before shoving his glass away, coming to stand beside me again.

I breathe in deep, inhaling his scent like I’m afraid it’ll disappear if I don’t get enough, and bask in the feel of the heat that pulses from his body into mine. I’m so distracted by it, that I flinch when Lowie reaches for my arm, picking it up like I’m made of glass, before inspecting the scars that litter my flesh. Little spots of puckered, pale skin litter my arms from where Mr. Burton liked to press his finished cigarettes to put them out when he was particularly angry at my refusal to accept his sons.

“They don’t hurt anymore,” I whisper as his thumb hovers over a mark.

With that, Lowie traces such a soft, gentle brush of his thumb over the burn scars. He doesn’t say a word, but the way his body tightens tells me his anger is bubbling inside him. And I can do nothing but watch it happen, unable to offer anything other than my words.

As he reaches a particularly nasty scar on my wrist, one I picked at constantly after it happened when my anxiety was getting the better of me, I whisper, “I never wanted to leave you. Not any of you. You guys were my home, where I felt safe, comforted, and looked after. With you guys, I knew what it was like to be wanted and cherished, and I never would have given that up for anything. Not willingly. You guys were it for me.”

Lowie frowns, his fingers tensing around me for only a moment before his sky-blue eyes bore into mine and he asks, “What about now?”

I frown. “Now, what?”

“Are we still it for you, Angel?” he asks, gaze intense and imploring. “Because you’re it for us. Always have been, always will be. You have no idea how many times I’ve hoped and prayed you’dreappear, erasing the last eight years. And now that you’re here, there’s no way I’m letting you go again. So, are we it for you, Juniper?”

He watches me for a long moment while I mull over his words, my chest tightening while every thought and feeling trips over oneself inside me. Every thought I had about him not wanting me vanish into a plume of smoke, leaving behind a man who watches me with so many emotions that I can’t keep up with them. My heart is thundering, my pulse fluttering like a hummingbird beneath my skin. I’m sure he can feel it, his thumb pressing hard enough to leave a white print on my skin, but he doesn’t loosen his hold. Doesn't look away. Simply waits for me to conjure an answer.

The thing is, I don’t even need the time to think of one. Because one thing I’ve always known, always will know, is that Lowie, Leylan, Evron, Creek, and Geo… well, they’ll always be the boys I grew up with, the boys I’ve always loved with every inch of my heart, and will always be the ones who own it. I don’t even want it back. It’s theirs to keep, to do whatever the hell they want with it. But it’s theirs, there’s no mistake about that. They’re the end game for me, and I can’t even lie or pretend otherwise.

So, with a choked whisper that would make me wince if I wasn’t trapped in Lowie’s gaze, I confess, “You’re all it for me. Doesn’t matter if I’m the same for you, there was never any other option for me but you guys. Even if I never found you again, even if none of you wanted anything to do with me or even remembered me. Didn’t matter who wanted me, I turned them down. Dating was something that always gave me mental hives, because none of them were you guys. I was always yours, and I’ll be yours long after I’m dead and gone from this earth.”

“Then that’s more than enough for me,” he whispers after my declaration, right before his free hand cups the back of my head, his fingers tangling in my hair as he yanks me close enough to press his lips against mine in a kiss that sets me on fire from the inside out.

Chapter 10

Juniper

Lowie kisses like he needs my mouth for air, devouring and consuming with every push of his soft lips against mine. A rumble vibrates his chest, what I only momentarily think is a growl but is actually a bone-rattling purr, the moment I kiss him back with matching energy. My hands grip his waist, hot skin scorching my palms and fingers in the best way possible.

With a swipe of his hot tongue, brushed against my lower lip, my lips part and that purr grows even louder, sending shivers through my body and goosebumps breaking out over my skin. Everything inside me trembles and swoons, a warmth pooling low in my stomach while the apex of my thighs grows slick with desire and my heart hiccups with the rattling sound.

It’s then that Lowie growls, a strange sound that mingles with his purr, making him almost sound demonic. And yet, it does nothing to dissuade me, my kisses growing fervent and rushed, tongues dueling, breaths catching, moans trapped between our lips. With every push, bite, and suck of his mouth on mine, the desire inside me grows and grows, slick pooling at my core with very little effort.

“Fuck, Angel,” Lowie rasps, tearing his mouth away and inhaling so deeply that I actually blush, because I know what he’s smelling. My desire, thick in the air, coating his every breath with mysugary scent of pineapples, coconut, and an almost cloying sweetness. “You smell like the best thing on Earth.”

And then he’s kissing me again, stealing any words I might have come up with. He’s pouring every single bit of himself into his kisses, removing all thoughts of anything but him, the way he feels against me, his touch, his scent. Everything around me vanishes save for Lowie. It’s heady and mind tingling, body awakening, and lust fueling, my body leaning into his without so much as a single thought. Like it knows what it wants and isn’t giving my mind a chance to catch up with what’s happening between us.

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