Page 2 of These Bonds that Unite Us
I fight to keep my comments to myself. No need to add to his stress with my concerns. I imagine the weak scent of my distress is causing enough of a distraction for him.
“Open the glove box,” he orders when we reach the edge of the city and he’s sure we aren’t being followed. “There should be a burner phone in there. Turn it on and text Donovan. Do you need me to tell you his contact number?”
“No,” I shake my head. I memorized Donovan and Shelby’s numbers when I enrolled at Dillon Falls Omega Academy. They wanted me to have a way to contact them in case something were to happen.
Tapping in Donovan’s number I type out the message Lex relays to me. ‘Rocky Road is out of stock. I’ll stop by the Chestnut Street corner store to look there.’ It seems like an odd message to send but I imagine there is some sort of code behind it. After I confirm it's been sent he has me power off the device and remove the SIM card so it can’t be traced.
“What now?”
“Now we go completely off-grid. I’ll stop at a gas station to fill up the tank and we’ll use the first aid kit in the back to patch ourselves up. Then it’s a five hour drive to the next safe house I know is offline.” Lex explains the next few steps in his plan.
I lean against the window to watch the world outside fly by. Worry curls in my chest, tightening like a rubber band on a watermelon. If they went after me did they go after Hannah too? I wish there was a way to know for sure. To reach out toShepherd or Foster and check in without putting their location at risk.
As if he senses where my thoughts are, Lex taps the steering wheel twice to get me to look at him. “The Wilsons would never let Hannah or her children get hurt. And honestly, not to upset you further, but I don’t believe Grant Montgomery would go after her. Not yet anyway.”
“Because I’m an omega,” I sigh. He’s right. My punishment will be a priority in my birth father’s eyes. I’m the thing he hates most in this world so he won’t focus on anyone else until I’ve been dealt with.
It probably isn’t a good sign that this knowledge brings me relief. I’ve spent so much of my adult life terrified of what would happen if he ever discovered my designation. Now I bear the weight of his hatred without fear.
I’m not bravely facing his punishment, I’m just indifferent to the outcome.
At the gas station, I get a crash course in treating bullet wounds. Luckily, the injury to Lex’s arm was a through-and-through he swears didn’t hit anything vital, so I don’t have to dig into his arm. Putting in stitches is nauseating enough. The graze on my thigh isn’t deep so we’re able to clean the blood away and patch it with butterfly bandages.
Lex’s training comes in handy once again when I find a bag with clean clothes for both of us stashed in the trunk. Walking into a grocery store covered in blood is a surefire way to get the cops called.
Lex fills the tank while I grab drinks from inside, hiding my hair and face with a ball cap, and then we’re back on the road. I can feel the adrenaline fading from my body leaving only bone-deep exhaustion in its wake. My eyes slowly slide shut as we leave yet another city to be greeted by dark highways and starry skies.
Morning light blinds me as I climb out of the passenger seat. Despite sleeping for the majority of the drive—and several hours before the attack on our last safe house—I feel as though I haven’t slept in days. The fatigue is getting worse. My energy depletes with even the simplest of tasks, like walking through a grocery store or washing my hair.
I’m starting to understand what Nebula meant when he said he had to watch his sister Elizabeth wither away after her rejection. The longer I’m apart from my mates the worse the symptoms of this chemical rejection get.
Some days when I’m lying in a nest of blankets I can almost feel my body slowly giving up. Or maybe my heartbroken, fucked up brain is supplying those imaginary feelings as a side effect of my depression.
I push the cart while Lex grabs enough food to last us until he can arrange for a drop from the DAU here in town. He asks for my input but I just shrug. I can see the concern in his gray eyes each time I space out. It doesn’t matter what he buys for me to eat when everything tastes like ash.
After stocking up on groceries he guides us through the clothing section to grab extra outfits. I’m surprised when he also stops in the home goods section and makes me pick out a few nesting blankets. I’m not sure what our budget is but I imagined it to be somewhere near ‘necessities only’.
“Nesting is a necessity,” he tells me when I voice my concern. “You need a nest to help combat the worst of the effects of the rejection.”
I pick three cheap but soft blankets and add them to our pile. I don’t argue with him, partially because I simply don’t have the energy to do so, but also because he’s right. Going withoutsome semblance of a nest will make my downward spiral exponentially faster.
“Thank you,” I whisper when we are in the car again. The words packed with gratitude for more than the blankets. Lex saved my life last night. Even if those mercenaries wouldn’t have killed me, my birth family would have.
In classic Lex manner, he only grunts in response. I snort out a laugh and flip on the radio. The volume stays low so it isn’t too distracting. I switch to a pop channel and let the catchy tunes pull me back to sleep.
The car bumps over a driveway made of more dirt than gravel, parts of it still washed out from the heavy spring rains. I grip the door to stop myself from smashing against it each time we hit one of the dips.
I’m slightly concerned for the bottom of the car. It may fall apart when we finally get to the safe house. When we pull to a stop the car seems fine, though I question the vehicle's ability to handle a second trip out of here.
Stepping out, I take a deep steady breath. Soaking in the fresh forest air. The sun beats down through the tall trees growing around the small cabin. The building's exterior is faded with age, the door a weathered dark brown that may have once been burgundy.
Surprisingly, it looks like it's been regularly maintained with a sturdy porch and a decent stockpile of wood beneath the covered overhang off the right side. I grab some of our bags and follow Lex to the door. He drops his haul on a cute little outdoor couch. The kind handcrafted by someone with woodworking skills.
I peek out into the forest around us, not seeing anything of interest, while he fishes the key from its hiding spot and opens the door. The cabin’s interior is a little dusty but livable. It’s one floor with a small loft above what looks like a bedroom.
I sit everything in the kitchen and get to work putting things away. It’s all been sitting in the trunk for over half an hour and needs to be attended to before I explore. Lex walks back outside to check the exterior and bring in the rest of what we bought. We work together to put things away in the fridge and empty cupboards.
It doesn’t take long, maybe twenty minutes, but I’m left slumped against the counter. I sigh, frustrated with myself for always being so exhausted. It’s fucking stupid my body has convinced itself Pack Graves rejected me.
