Page 19 of Down Knot Out
Hurt shoots through me, and she must catch itin my expression, because her lips form anO, and she catches my hand.
“That came out wrong. I’m bad with words sometimes, which is stupid, considering what I do for a living.” Her nose scrunches in thought. “What I meant is that you and the others have been wonderful to me, and I cherish what we’ve been building together. What’s bothering me is outside of what we have here.”
Not letting her hand go, I grab the other chair at the table and drag it over to sit beside her. “Like Louie was outside of here?”
“Yeah.” Chloe takes a deep breath, her chest rising and falling as she gathers her thoughts.
Her lips tremble, but she keeps them pressed together like she’s holding back tears, and the silence stretches between us as I give her time to speak.
“I don’t know what to do anymore.” Her voice cracks, tugging on my protective instinct. “I… I feel like I’m stuck in the middle of everything, and no matter what I do, it’s never enough. Sometimes, I wonder if I used up all my happiness before I was sixteen. Everything after that… Every time things are getting better…”
Her eyes glisten, and she scrubs her hand overthem to wipe away the tears. “Sorry, I’m just so tired.”
My heart aches to see her like this. “Tell me what you need. We can’t fix everything, but we’re here. We’re your Alphas. We’ll figure it out.”
She sniffles, blotting her sleeves over her face. “I feel like I don’t belong anywhere. I thought I could come here and forget everything… forget who I was. But I can’t.”
“You’re not alone here.” I reach out to tuck soft pink strands of hair behind her ear. “We’re not going anywhere, cupcake. You don’t have to carry everything on your own.”
Her head lifts, and she searches my face for reassurance or understanding, and the raw, unguarded vulnerability I see hurts. It’s clear now more than ever that she’s been holding whatever is eating at her inside for so long that even the thought of sharing it with us has become a mountain she’s struggling to climb.
“I’m scared,” she whispers. “Scared I’ll lose you and the others. That I won’t be enough… that I won’t ever be able to belong.”
My heart breaks at how tired she appears. “You don’t have to be anything. Not for us, not for anyone. You just have to be you. That’s enough.”
She blinks as the words sink in, but she stilldoesn’t seem convinced. Her shoulders sag with exhaustion from the fight she’s been waging with herself. It breaks something in me to see her like this, to realize she still hasn’t fully allowed herself to trust or accept that she won’t lose us.
I stand, drawing Chloe to her feet before she can sink any deeper into her downward spiral. Her body wobbles, and she doesn’t resist when I grab her laptop and tuck it under my arm.
“We’re going inside,” I tell her. “And we’re going to bed. You’re sleeping in my room tonight, and you’re not arguing.”
She blinks up at me, too tired to put up even a token protest. That alone tells me how much she’s been struggling. She needs someone to take control, to take care of her.
I guide her back into the house, keeping my hand on the small of her back as we step inside. Dominic still sits on the stairs, watching as if he never once considered going to sleep himself. It’s still early for him, though. His sharp gray eyes flick between us, assessing the situation.
“We’re going to bed,” I inform him.
Dominic rises to his feet. “Sounds like a good idea."
At the base of the stairs, Chloe hesitates, exhaustion pulling at her limbs, her movementssluggish. I want to carry her, to be the one to sweep her up in my arms so she doesn’t have to take another step tonight. But I’m not strong enough, not like Dominic or Blake or Nathaniel.
A familiar pang of inferiority curls in my stomach, but before it can fester, Dominic hurries down the steps and scoops Chloe into his arms.
She squeaks, stiffening in protest, but he ignores it, adjusting his hold as if she weighs nothing. A deep, soothing purr rumbles through his chest, and she slumps within his hold, her fingers curling into his shirt, her nose pressing into the curve of his throat.
I swallow past the lump in my throat, watching the way Dominic handles her with such ease. But then he gestures with his chin for me to lead the way upstairs, and the simple gesture steadies my insecurities. I don’t have to be able to do everything for Chloe. That’s not what this is about. I’m not alone in this. None of us are.
This is what it means to be in a pack. We take care of each other.
At the top of the stairs, I open the door into the family wing of the Homestead, then hurry down the hall to my room, stepping aside for Dominic to stride in and set Chloe on her feet. She sways,already half-asleep, and clings to him for a moment longer than necessary.
I don’t rush her, knowing how much this means to Dominic, having her not reject him. When she steps back, I help her out of her sweater and into one of my shirts. I push down her pants and slip off her bra, drawing it through the sleeve like I’ve seen her do before.
She lets me guide her to the bed, crawling under the blankets with a sigh of relief. I set her laptop on my nightstand and slide in beside her, warmth spreading through me when she curls into my side, her head on my chest.
“Sorry if I wake you up,” she mumbles, her eyelids drooping. “I have nightmares.”
I smooth my hand down her back, hushing her. “Then wake me up, and I’ll hold you until you fall back asleep.”
