Page 46 of Wolf Tormented
Is he capable of caring about anyone at all?
“Hey, we are here to get your mind off the stubborn alpha,” Angela says, crossing her arms over her chest.
I turn to her and raise a brow. She does know me, right? Archer is always on my mind. Him and caring for the pack.
“Easier said than done.” I pull the box closer to me and open the lid.
Produce fills it to the top, and I heft the box to the steel table where the older stuff still sits.
Setting out all the baskets and separating the fruits and veggies takes all my focus, and I’m glad for it.
No errant thoughts of my parents or Archer run through my mind as I finish the entire box and move on to the next.
Angela’s phone beeps, and she curses.
“What is it?” I ask.
“An emergency meeting of the enforcers. I have to go,” she says, chewing her lip as nervousness leaks out of her.
“I’m okay. Go. I’m just going to finish with the produce, and then I will leave.”
She fidgets and shuffles her feet indecision warring inside her. “Promise you won’t go near the shelves or do anything dangerous?”
“I don’t really want to be down here on my own, so no, I’m going to finish this and then lock up the storeroom.”
She blows out a relieved breath and nods before racing up the stairs and out the door.
As the front door slams and I’m left completely alone, a chill wracks my spine. I didn’t realize how creepy this place would feel when I’m alone in the house.
I hurry to finish the produce and take the stairs two at a time once I’m done. I do not want another shelf to fall on me. Has someone checked the bolts on the other shelves?
And why did Angela seem so nervous about me finding the broken bolt? Those shelves are heavy, especially when they are full. It could have just snapped under the pressure.
Anyone could have been standing there. It doesn’t mean someone is out to get me.
Grabbing my keys, I lock the door behind me and breathe a sigh of relief when I’m standing in my bright, cheery kitchen.
The afternoon sun peeks through the clouds, sending warm rays of light through the window over the sink.
My stomach growls loudly. I didn’t realize how hungry I am.
I open the fridge and grab the ingredients to make a ham sandwich. I don’t think I can handle much more than that.
Anxiety and pain roil within me as my wolf whimpers in my mind. I do my best to block it all out as I reach for the bread and pull out four slices without a thought.
It doesn’t even occur to me until I’m done that I’ve robotically made two sandwiches, and one of them is exactly the way Archer likes it.
“Fucking stupid mate bond,” I growl, tempted to throw the sandwich in the trash, but I don’t want to waste food when deliveries are so infrequent.
“He probably won’t even eat it, thinking I poisoned it or something,” I say as I open the cabinet and grab a plate.
I set the sandwich on the plate and stick it in the fridge for him to eat after his meeting.
Am I a fucking doormat? Am I letting him treat me like a possession rather than an actual person?
Not that I have much of a choice in the matter. I made this decision, and I have to live with it.
I’ve tried to be a good mate and a good alpha female, but nothing I do is ever enough. At what point will I be enough?
