Page 89 of Pack of Crooks
“Oh my god, you do?! Can we go somewhere?” Lottie turns to me. “Please, Hazel, please, please, please.”
My eyes flutter closed. Dear god. I think Lottie being resistant to move in would have been better than her diving head first into being rich. “We can talk about vacation, but I have to build up paid time off.”
Lest we all forget, I’m still employed at Kain Industries and asking for spur of the moment time off won’t win me any favors.
“We could plan a trip over Christmas break,” Mad offers.
Milly and I trade looks. She mouthsoh my god, where can I find a pack like this?and I shrug, because I honestly have zero clue as to how I deserve any of this. I’m not going to fight fate though. Maybe this is the universe’s way of apologizing for giving me such a shitty childhood.
Whatever the reason, I’m going to embrace this new life.
I swear something is wrong with Lottie. She’s practically dancing as we pack up some of our belongings, humming a pop song as she flits about the apartment, a grin on her face that hasn’t let up since we said goodbye to the pack after dinner the other night. We won’t move in for a few more days, but I thought we’d get a head start and donate whatever we won’t be taking with us.
When she starts to sing out loud—full on belting—I snap.
I toss a random pot into a box. “Okay, what is going on?”
“Nothing,” she says in that defensive teenage tone.
“Liar. You’ve been bouncing around here like you’re about to go on a hot date.” I cross my arms over my chest.
She wrinkles her forehead. “Forgive me for being excited.”
I drop my hands, sighing and shaking my head. “That’s not what I mean. . .” I trail off, swallow a lump and continue. “You’ve just been happier the last two days than you have been since Mom died.” I don’t confess my big fear out loud. She’s been happier ever since she learned we were moving in with the pack rather than her and me going it alone. My chest constricts.
Lottie leaves the box she’s been filling and comes over to me, features pinched together and eyes bouncing between mine. “Are you mad? I thought you wanted to move in with them.”
My vision swims, but I force the tears back. “I’m not mad, Lottie.” Confused. Maybe a little ashamed that I thought I could take care of her on my own. An omega who’s only ever been good at breaking the law. A loser.Stop it. You’re being stupid. “Sorry,” I tell her quickly, swiping my cheek. “Ignore me. I think it’s my hormones.”
She tips her head, eyeing me with far too much knowing for a girl her age. I hate that Mom did that to her and that, as hard as I tried, I gave her some of that too. I’ve set a horrible example.
“This pack loves you.”
I shake my head. “It’s too soon for that.”
“Not with packs that are meant to be,” she insists.
True love? I try not to scoff at the idea and ruin yet another thing for her. “Well, I guess we’ll see.”
“Do you want to know why I’m happy?”
I laugh. “Because you’re getting out of this shithole. We won’t have to worry about food or rent.” Or any of the other things I can’t give you.
“No, Haze. I’m happy because finally someone is going to take care of you.”
My eyebrows pinch. “I don’t need?—”
“I know you don’t,” she says quickly. “But you took care of me and Mom, and when she died, you took care of me. You could have left me.”
“I would never.”
“I know,” she says, smiling at me. “And you’ve sacrificed your early twenties to take care of me. Your future. Your life. I owe you.”
“No you don’t.” My voice breaks. “Lottie, you’re my sister. I love you. You don’t owe meanything.”
“And that’s why I’m happy,” she says softly. “You’re too stubborn to chase true love if it means upsetting me.”
My mouth pops open, and I stare at her for a second, wondering how my fourteen-year-old sister suddenly turned thirty-five. “Who are you?”
