Page 85 of Dream Mates
“Remember, in my world there are no omegas or alphas. My mom didn’t deny me stuffies to curb omega tendencies. Just like she wasn’t angry about Wes because he was analphathe way you mean it here. She freaked out because he was a guy and I wassneaking around,as she put it, instead of dating thenice church boysshe wanted me to. She took everything in my roomas punishment, even the bed and door. Leaving me my rug, one blanket and a pillow–and a couple of basic outfits.” I winced because it had been humiliating, and she hadn’t listened.
She’d also let my brothers take whatever of mine they wanted.
“While taking everything, she found my notes. There weren’t just formulas, but theories, my dreams–and a whole lot about Wes. This all freaked her out, because I believed thisalphaI saw in my dreams was real and one day I’d use math to be with him. Anyhow, the next day I found myself at some religiouswilderness campsince apparently everything else wasn’thelping my delusions.”I plopped down on a bench, we were back in the rose garden where we started.
That had been a horrible day. I still didn’t know why my mom was so angry. Maybe my bio-dad had been a self-styled ‘alpha male.’ Our church had been full of them. They weren’t kind and protective like my alphas. They’d been mean and used their size and the fact they were dudes to get their way.
Concern flickered through his eyes. “Camp. That’s where…”
“It was terrifying and dehumanizing in a way my other experiences never were. Even the church-run summer camp for ‘troubled kids’ I’d gone to wasn’t like that. This was not the sort ofwilderness campwhere you lived in a tent and hiked for three months. It was a religious behavior modification camp that used extreme measures.” My heart sped, recalling the sheer misery of that place–and the pain.
I hunched over, my breath hitching, at the memories of that place. Brennan sat next to me, putting an arm around my shoulders. My phone buzzed.
Wes
Are you okay?
Me
Bren and I are getting deep, but I’m okay.
I’d come to terms with it. I just didn’t like to dwell on that place and what she and the church did to me.
“And I was scared–so scared.” My chest shuddered as I leaned into him, filling my lungs with his pine scent.
“It sounds awful. I am so sorry they did that.” He rubbed my back.
“It was nothing short of torture. They even messed with our sleep cycles, which made talking to Wes, the one positive thing I had, difficult. I got through everything else because I could still visit him in my dreams. I could be wrapped in blankets and hold Mr. Hippo, snuggle him, and get a pep talk. But between the sleep deprivation and the new drugs it got harder and harder to reach him.” Tears streamed down my face. Slowly they stripped me ofeverything.
Brennan started to purr. “I’ve got you–and you don’t have to talk about it.”
I rubbed my wrists. “I tried to hang on, especially for Wes’ sake. I knew he wasn’t going to find me, but I thought maybe the mating connection would enable me to hang on. But I’m weak.”
A sob escaped my lips. I wasn’t strong enough.
I wasn’t enough.
“Then they moved from just hurting me to shock therapy. I was so tired. My soul hurt so bad. After I’d had a heart attack, I’d gotten to talk to my parents on the phone. My dad begged me to just go along with it because he was afraid I’d die. In the end, I thought Wes was just a dream–a sinful dream that was best to not remember, and that advanced math wasn’t for girls like me.” My head bowed with the weight of those memories.
“You’re not weak, Grace. If that didn’t happen in another world, I’d kill someone for you. I can’t believe that it’s fucking legal.” Brennan held me tight, and I rested my head on his chest.
“Oh, they’re not. But because they run asreligious campsthey skirt by because in my world, my country values religion over the lives of children.” My voice went bitter, and I kept rubbing my wrists. “So, there it is.”
Brennan entwined his hand with mine. “As Evan would say, there’s so much to unpack there. I can’t believe someone would do that to their kid. You had a fucking heart attack?”
“Yeah. I went through a shit-ton of actual legitimate therapy to be able to talk about it. I still don’t like to,” I whispered. Kids died at that camp. Like my roommate.
“Understandable.” His finger very lightly ran over my wrist.
“There were marks on my wrists, too. One of my therapists found someone who removed them for free. I’d looked into getting my back done, but even with help it would be a long and expensive process.” I closed my eyes again and leaned on his shoulder.
“If at any point you want to get the scars on your back removed, I’ll cover whatever the insurance doesn’t. The Center might even be able to help you,” he told me.
I thought about that for a moment. It hit differently coming from him, considering his own scars. “Thank you. I’d want to make sure it’s for the right reasons.”
“As you should. I’d once thought about it, but ended up not, because I wasn’t doing it for me,” he replied.
I started to sob again, and Brennan continued to hold me and purr. My phone rang, but I didn’t want to let go of him.
