Page 21 of Bound By Pain
“I know little about what you’re going through, but I know alcohol isn’t the answer.”
I nod. “Yeah. I didn’t drink any of it, but… I was going to. Before you knocked.”
“Then I’m glad I came when I did.”
I watch as he climbs to his feet, groaning when the joints in his knees crack. He grabs the glass and the bottle and carries them to the kitchen. I can’t see him, but I hear him emptying thebottle into the sink. Taking away the temptation I nearly gave in to.
Pulling myself up onto the couch, I rest my elbows on my knees and wait for him to return. When he does, it’s like a dam breaks. Everything I’ve been through, all of my heartache and worry from the past two years, spills from my lips. Telling him about Bea brings tears back to my eyes.
Dad squeezes my forearm, not interrupting, but silently offering his support and understanding.
“She’s missing. Taken by someone we suspect is connected to the breeding ring that has been kidnapping people along the East Coast for the past several months. And she’s hurt. The pain-”
“That Fated connection type is as much a curse as it is a blessing,” Dad says. “If I could’ve changed it for you, I would have.” He shakes his head with a very disgruntled look on his face. It’s gone, replaced by his usual stoicism when he looks back at me. “So your Omega is missing. What can you do to help?”
“I- nothing? She’s gone, Dad.”
“Being hurt and dead ain’t the same thing, kid.”
“Obviously, I know that,” I protest, but he cuts me off.
“Obviously,you don’t. Otherwise, you’d be doing everything in your power to help her, not mope around your apartment letting past demons whisper painful fantasies in your head.”
My jaw drops open in shock. “I won’t survive-”
“There you go again, letting those demons win. You don’t know the outcome yet, so why are you assuming you’ve lost the race?”
Closing my mouth, I set aside my fear and hurt and consider his words. “I don’t know how to help.”
“Finding her isn’t something you can help with. You don’t have the skills or connections to pull something like that off, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t something you can do. She’s anOmega. She’s hurt, and she was kidnapped. What is she going to need when they find her?”
“A doctor?”
Dad scowls at me, crossing his arms over his chest in the same menacing way he would when I was a kid and trying to get out of housework.
“Okay, right.” Thinking back on the Omega-centered classes we were required to take at the Alpha Academy, I try to remember what to do when dealing with trauma. “The best thing would be her mates. Their scents, but also physical contact. Purring. Comfort too. Either in her nest, or as close as it can get if she is hospitalized.”
Dad pushes to his feet and nods. “You know where she lives?”
“Yeah, but I don’t have a key. I might know someone who does, though.”
“Alright, then it’s time for you to get to work. And Orion? If you feel like drinking, call me. Or stop by the house. You aren’t facing this alone.”
My shoulders sink. I offer him a tight smile as he opens the door.
“And please call your mother. She misses you something fierce.”
He leaves before I can reply. I feel bad about having avoided them for so long. It just felt like returning home would be like trying to go back to the way things were before Ren died. Life moves on, and that’s something I keep forgetting.
Grabbing my phone from where it slipped between the couch cushions, I dial Brady Moore’s number. He is the band manager of Primordial Covenant. A band that is mated to Bea’s former roommate and best friend, Omen.
After explaining what happened, he agrees to reach out to the band and ask for their help. I’m changing into clean clothes when my phone rings a few moments later. “Orion Walker.”
“This is Nebula Graves,” replies the voice on the other end. I haven’t met the men behind the masked band, only heard about them through working at the label, so we aren’t familiar with one another. “Brady said you needed our help with something?”
Frowning, I mentally curse the older Alpha for not telling them why I needed their help. I fucking hate delivering bad news. “Yeah. Uh, is your Omega around?”
“Why?”
