Page 41 of Dream Girl
But multiple husbands seemed to be a thing here.
“Do you want to go back?” Evan asked.
I thought about it for a moment. My gut instinct was to sayno,despite my brain insisting that I had to. “Won’t my being out of sync mess things up? I don’t want to cause an incursion.”
“I’ll leave that to you and Spence. His offer of a lab is sincere. But you should let your brain heal first.”
“That sounds good. Will you explain what a gamma is? I’ve never heard of it. Only alphas and omegas.” Being here in his arms felt so good, so right, even though I’d just met him.
“I’ll do you one better. I brought those videos.” He got up and took the laptop out of his bag. “I have to go to work soon, but we’ve got enough time to watch some.”
Chapter Fourteen
Grace
Iwoke to the sound of tapping.
“Hey, don’t you have to go to work?” My stomach rumbled as I awoke from my nap. The clock said it was well after lunch. Evan was squished with me on the hospital bed working on his laptop.
“Wes isn’t back yet. The nurse said to press the call button, and they’ll bring you food.” He looked worried.
“Okay, I’m going to use the restroom first. You said that you brought me some clothes?” I was in a hospital gown, which was much cuter but not really any better than in my world.
“I brought you a shirt of mine and a shirt of Wes’ and some PJ pants and stuff.” He went bashful. “I guessed your size. But I should know them since you need clothes–not that you aren’t adorable in Wes’ stuff. Carly from the Center stopped by. Gammas are technically under omega laws, so you’re being assigned an advocate.”
“Oh, okay. This is bad or good?” I frowned, not really understanding, though Carly had been nice.
“While you legally can decline an advocate, I’d rather you have a Center advocate than a city case worker. The social worker that you met with earlier works for the hospital, and makes referrals,” he explained. “I also told Carly that it might be better for you to have an advocate that wasn’t her, because of me.”
“Okay.” Grabbing the clothes, I dragged the monitor with me into the bathroom. When I came out, Evan was speaking with an older woman in a pantsuit who was holding a tablet and wearing a badge. She smelled a bit like old books.
“Grace, this is Mrs. Beekman, from the Center. I’m going to step out and make some calls. I’ll be right back, okay?” Evan gave me a hug and left.
“Hi, Grace. I’ve been legally appointed to you.” Mrs. Beekman looked kind. “I’m here to make sureyouare okay and that your rights and wishes are advocated for. We’re going to have lots of talks, and I know you’re exhausted and recovering, so we’ll keep this one short, okay?”
“Okay. My memories are still so scrambled, and it’s hard to think.” I got back on the bed and curled up in the blankets.
I thought she’d walk me through everything, but instead we just talked, which was nice.
“How do you feel about Wes having an omega?” she finally asked.
“I love Evan and want to keep him forever.” My head ducked. The idea of multiple husbands seemed both scandalous and practical.
“He seems like a dear. I don’t know him well; they had me brought from another Center. It’s a lot, coming into an established pack when you don’t know most of them–and you have rights,” she told me. “Do you mind if I use the restroom? My bladder isn't as young as it used to be.”
She stood and went to the restroom. Where was Evan? I hope he brought me food. I didn’t want to bother the nurses.
Evan had left the door open, and a man strode in without knocking. He wore a suit, but seemed a little shady, and smelled like string cheese that had been in your lunchbox all day.
“Who are you?” I demanded. He didn’t look like a detective or a doctor. Fear hit me. Had they found me? I went to call out, and it stuck in my throat.
“That doesn’t matter. What matters is who are you and why are you here?” he prodded.
I swallowed my scream and blinked. “I’m Grace and I had a seizure?”
Confusion shot through me. Not the people chasing me then?
“You haven’t seen Wes in years, and now, right as Compass BioTek is doing very well, here you are. What, him being some working-class boy wasn’t attractive, but then you saw some gossip write-up on his rich pack and thought you’d cash in?” he pressed, getting very close to me, his scent of string cheese cloying.
