Page 88 of Tempted By the Alpha Outlaw

My mom doesn’t say anything right away. She steps inside, closes the door behind her, and just looks at me, brow furrowed. I hate that look…the quiet, searching gaze, the one that says, I see you, Maggie, the one that makes it impossible to pretend.

I clear my throat, trying to keep my voice stead. “Hey, Mom. What’s up”

She tilts her head. “I was about to ask you the same thing.”

“I’m fine,” I say automatically–too fast to be honest.

She doesn’t call me on it, but that just makes it worse. Instead, she steps closer, lowering herself onto the bed beside me, her hands settling in her lap. “You’re home early,” she says lightly, like we’re just having a normal conversation, like I’m not sitting here feeling like my world just collapsed under me. “I thought you were spending the night at Colt’s again.”

I nod. “I just…thought it would be easier to get ready for work from here. It’s nothing.”

Why am I covering for him? I need to tell someone, it could literally be a matter of life or death. Colt could be calling his allies in the Gulf Pack right now, telling them everything they need to know about the den’s weaknesses…

I don’t realize I’m shaking until Mom reaches out, smoothing her hand over mine. The lump in my throat grows too thick, too unbearable. My chest aches with the weight of everything I haven’t said. I should swallow it down. I should keep it in, press it into some deep, dark place where it can’t touch me, where no one can see it. That’s what I do. I take things and carry them and never let them show.

Because I’m the one who holds it together. I always have been.

I can’t fall apart now.

But then Mom squeezes my hand, and her voice is so soft, so full of knowing when she says, “Starshine, you don’t have to lie to me.”

And just like that, I break.

The first sob comes out so suddenly it startles me, my hand flying up to slap over my mouth like I can shove it back inside. But it’s too late.

The floodgates open, and I can’t stop it.

I gasp, shaking, my whole body curling in on itself, and suddenly, my mom is there. She doesn’t ask what’s wrong, doesn’t press me for words I can’t force out. She just pulls me in, tucking my head beneath her chin, wrapping her arms around me like I’m still small enough to hold like this.

And I let her.

I don’t fight it. I don’t push her away.

I just cry.

“Mom,” I sob, curling my fingers in her nightgown. “You were right. I was so stupid, I should have never…”

“Enough of that,” she interrupts, pulling my face up to look me in the eye. “Magnolia, you are a smart and capable woman. I’m not here to judge you. I just want to help.”

I shake my head, my throat so tight it hurts. “You can’t help,” I whisper. “No one can.”

Mom exhales slowly, brushing a strand of hair from my face, her touch careful. “Tell me what happened, starshine.”

I open my mouth. Close it. Because how do I say it? How do I make it real?

But it is real. No matter how much I wish I could undo it.

“I messed up,” I choke out. “Mom, I—he—” My breath catches, another sob breaking loose before I can stop it.

She just waits, but her grip on me is firm, unshakable.

So I force myself to say it.

“He was hired to find Peaches.” The words tumble out, too fast, too raw, my voice breaking over them. “The Gulf Pack sent him here. That’s why he came. That’s why—” My stomach twists violently. “That’s why he found me.”

I let out a ragged breath, my hands twisting into the fabric of her nightgown like it’s the only thing holding me together. My mother holds me tighter, like she can pull the broken pieces of me back into place with sheer will alone.

But then she exhales, long and slow.

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