Page 31 of Petals and Strings
My brain burned that image into my memories so it never faded. Mom’s look of absolute horror, the way she was afraid to touch me, shifted uncomfortably to get away, and left the moment she could. My fathers doing the same.
I was tainted to them.
When I still hadn’t budged, Nancy moved around me to open the door, gently guiding me inside to face the three people sitting around a table. It was cold in here, like a conference room with stark, white paint and cold, metal furniture.
Their rigid postures weren’t helping. Clearly, they didn’t want to be here.
“My baby,” mom said with a simpering tone. Her blonde hair was woven into a braid hanging to one side, her dress something more fitting for church than a visit here. She was always going on about posture and perception, the two p’s, to impress others.
I sat, not saying a word as my eyes skimmed to my dads. They all were staring at me, almost cautious.
There was no real love or understanding to be found.
“Why are you here? Where is my pack?” They looked taken aback by my question. Offended, even.
“We’re your parents,” my alpha dad started, that same voice that was always backing up the insane strict rules my mom enforced.
“And I’m an adult, and until my time here is up, not your problem anymore.”
“That little stunt of yours ended up on the news, you know,” mom sniffed, as if she was barely containing tears. They were fake. Her eyes were full of annoyance. “That pack claims they aren’t yours, and that you stalked them.”
My alpha dad leaned in. “You sent them omega underwear, where did you even get that?”
My lips curled into a grin. That was one memory that was unclouded. It took only one afternoon in a laundromat for that to work. I was just a clumsy, little omega, no one looked at me twice. I wanted to chase her off of them, to reclaim what was mine. They were my pack, not hers. If only I wasn’t turned away every time I tried to approach them.
“I told you we shouldn’t have come,” my beta dad grunted, looking like he’d rather be anywhere but here. The real kicker was he was my biological dad of the group… I even had his eyes. Or eye, rather, the darker one was identical to his.
Just not his parental love, I guess.
“You’re lucky to be here,” my alpha dad ground out through gritted teeth. “The pack you terrorised is paying for you. A gesture that’s far too kind when you act like this.”
The words hit me right in the chest. I thought it was odd when I learned that this was a private pay facility. I never expected them to pay for it. I’d heard them bitching about the cost of the outpatient ones, I couldn’t imagine something this elaborate.
Guilt bubbled up at the thought of that pack being so kind after all I did, but it was overshadowed by the pain of my family treating me like I didn’t deserve compassion or kindness.
“Do you have any idea what you’ve put us through? We’re here to make sure you’re getting better and you act like this?”
Mom’s words hit me like a hard slap to the face.
“WhatIput you through?” I gasped, her words stunning me enough that shocked laughter escaped. “You?”
She rolled her eyes. “You know what I meant. No need for dramatics.”
I bared my bite marks for them, showing them the visual representation of my pain that they couldn’t ignore. “I put you through hell? Well, too fucking bad. I lived it. Ten years of being used, abused, and close to death. Forced to mate for them, enduring pain and horrors you couldn’t fucking imagine. Then my pack tossed me aside. But sure, the gossip is too much for you to handle.”
I stood as they stammered out their half-assed apologies and admonishments. Neither one something I planned to listen toas I pushed out of the door, heading straight for director Cross’ office.
My knock was loud enough it echoed in the room. He flung the door open, stopping short at the sight of me.
“Audrey, what’s wrong?”
“Can I take visitation off the table? I don’t want any visitors,” I said firmly. That even extended to my pack. Not that I thought they’d come for me.
For a brief moment I felt reality clawing at that response. Trying to remind me of something but I couldn't figure out what. I was foggier today.
His eyes went from me to the family I once trusted. They were soothing my mom, of course, and shooting me daggers in the process.
“They’ve made it clear I’ve put them through too much. I’d hate to have them endure even hearing about my trauma and recovery.”
