Page 71 of Begrudgingly Yours
It already has affected it in the past, but I can’t let it prevent a future between us. My pack deserves more than that.
With that decision in mind, I pull my phone back to my ear.
“Hey, Cranny. What’s up?”
I smile at my best friend’s nickname for me. “Hey, I have a weird question.”
“Okay, shoot,” Stacia answers.
“When do you go to therapy again?”
“Tomorrow,” she says, suspicion layering her voice. “Why? What’s up?”
“Is there any way you could see if she knows of any good support groups? For victims of alpha abuse?”
Because if I’m going to let these guys in, I need to figure out how to get the memories of my mother all the wayout.
THIRTY-THREE
Playing: I’m Not Angry Anymore by Paramore
Staciaand I meet on the side of town that we’re not fully familiar with. There’s a shopping center, and the group is being held in an old therapy office. I have anxious jitters when I get there, and Stacia kisses Uriah goodbye as he drops her off.
“I’m so proud of you, Cranny,” Stacia says as we try to find the right room number.
Her praise makes me the tiniest bit happy, but my nerves cause me to sigh. “I just… I don’t want my mother to haunt me for the rest of my life.”
“I know. This group will be good for you. For me, too. My therapist says this group is highly talked about by her colleagues and that I could benefit from it as well. Most of the people who go specifically talk about their alpha parents or partners that abuse their barks and have a high sense of self-importance, but she says it works for my situation too—rich, designation-bias parents.”
I nod, knowing that Stacia trusts her therapist. I think I’m just nervous about reaching out. Possiblyspeakingabout the things my mother used to do. It feels like an impossible step to take.
The support group is both smooth and rocky, but the people are nice enough. The hour flies by, everybody getting a slotted time frame to discuss how things have been and how they’ve changed their habits with the narcissists in their lives.
When it gets to me and Stacia, we introduce ourselves but keep the details a bit vague. I specifically bring up my mother’s tendency to use her bark and many of the other omegas in the group agree that it’s a narcissist’s favorite form of control. The advice that follows includes how to deal with the somewhat PTSD of it and how to rewire the belief structure that all alphas abuse it. Both are very helpful, and I’m already coming up with affirmations to use as we leave at the end of the session.
“Well, that wasn’t too bad,” Stacia comments as we walk across the street to get a coffee. “Do you want to go back next week?”
I just shrug. “If we both have time, sure. We can make it our weekly support group and dinner date.”
We enter the cafe at the wrong—or maybe the right—time because I run right into another customer on their way out. Luckily, they avoid spilling hot coffee on me by pouring it on themselves, the hot brew mixing in with their naturally spicy scent.
Theiramberscent.
“Oh fuck.” My eyes widen as Jett hisses at the pain. Hot, boiling coffee just hit him right in the chest, and I know it must have hurt because his t-shirt is thin.
Like,reallythin. Like I might be able to see his abs through it right now as the coffee drips further down.
“It’s okay. I’m fine,” Jett says enthusiastically, but I can see the lieflicker briefly across his features. He’s a good actor, but he can’t get past me.
“Let me help.” I take his now empty cup and throw it in the trashcan, then I discreetly give Stacia my wallet. “Get him a new one. It’s just black coffee. And get yourself something, too.” She winks at me and heads to the counter.
“How did you get here? Did you order a ride across town?” I ask him, curious.
Jett smiles despite the pain and shakes his head. “Dax actually let me drive his car.”
I smile wide. “Oh shit. You guys are at the stage where you can officially borrow each other’s stuff?”
“Technically. And within reason. We obviously have to ask each other. Although he’s constantly stealing my shirts.”
