Page 5 of Patiently Yours
“People don’t talk about it enough, but only certain omegas have packs, Stacia. Those omegas are spoiled, self-centered brats. Are you spoiled and self-centered?”
“No,” I say, tears threatening to spill over.
“I didn’t think so. How do you think that makes me feel? Knowing that I’ll never be enough for you?”
I start to push at him, becoming vocal in my discomfort.
“Let go of me!” I scream, kicking at his leg.
“No, you need to know how this makes me feel,” he thunders back at me. “Don’t you care? Who is this omega that I’ve fallen in love with? Have you been this damaged the whole time, and I didn’t see it?”
I start sobbing uncontrollably, piercing the air with my wails.
Words I wish I never had to remember come roaring back.
I won’t have a damaged daughter.
Don’t be that kind of omega.
Cover up, you’re a disgrace.
That’s all omegas are good for.
Stop being so airheaded, Stacia, for Christ’s sake.
You never think of anyone but yourself.
“Get off of me! Get off! Get off! We’re over! Fuck you!” I’m pulling with all my might now, scratching and punching hisarms. He hisses but only lets me go when my bedroom door flies open.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?!” Rory rushes in, a baseball bat secure in her hands. She marches forward and swings for the bed.
I back up away from the bed, trying to catch my breath. I hear them arguing through a fog. I think she threatens to kill him, and he tells her to mind her own business. She threatens to call the cops, which leaves him angry but finally compliant as he turns toward me one last time.
“We’ll talk later.”
My bedroom door shuts and I lose my battle with my concealed emotions, finally letting it all out. I wrap my arms around myself and sink to the floor.
The next thing I know, Rory is there and holding me tightly. One of her hands cradles my head while the other is wrapped around me, soothing me as I cry in the crook of her neck.
“He’s gone, I promise. Never again. You’re safe now.”
After a while, I feel my body start to relax, and my energy ebbs out of me in waves. All that’s left is apathy and confusion. Rory helps me get back in bed, and she curls up into me before turning off the lamp. I hear her whisper to get some rest. And when I close my eyes, I decide that’s what I’d like to do for the rest of my life.
FOUR
I hold Kendall up with one arm while I fish our house keys out of my pocket. “It’s time for some Netflix and take out. Do you want a burrito?” I ask him as the keys nearly fumble out of my hand.
“Black bean chalupa,” Kendall mutters with a laugh. “And a Baja Blast.”
“You got it, sunshine.” After I finally get the door unlocked, we slip inside. Uriah, who’s carrying an unconscious Ciro, marches in behind us.
Each of us have been a lot more settled and happy since moving into our off-campus house. Kendall and I have been friends all our lives. We always knew that we would be pack someday. It wasn’t until we met Uriah and Ciro our freshman year while pledging for our fraternity that we realized we were just waiting for our other half.
Meeting them was kismet, but there’s official rules about packs living in frat housing together. When we became an official pack last year, we were happy to walk away. Being in our own space has given us a whole new perspective on what it means to be a pack, even if it makes us feel detached from our frat brothers.
“Let him have the couch, Uri,” I tell him before walking our other inebriated friend to the recliner. Looks like we’re going to have a little pack sleepover in the living room. Ciro has a habit of waking up black-out drunk to either drink more or go outside and Kendall will probably get the spins in about ten minutes, which means I am on throw up duty.
Uriah places Ciro gently on the couch, giving him a loving brush on the head. I sneak a grin behind his back. It’s those little things that only his pack mates are privy to that show who he really is. The little gestures he gives, even without cracking a smile, mean the world to us even if he doesn’t notice.
