by J. L. Wilder
“I’m supposed to relieve you,” he said.
Gino looked doubtful. “Yeah?”
“Hawk said so.” Gino could go and ask him if he didn’t believe Weston. “And Norma’s almost done making dinner, so you might as well go get some.”
Gino nodded and got to his feet. “I’ll bring you a plate.”
“Thanks, man.” Gino wasn’t so bad, really, Weston thought. If only he wasn’t living in Hawk’s pocket, they might have been close. It would have been nice to have a brother—a blood brother, a brother from his own litter—who he could confide in. But the only males in their litter had been Hawk, Gino, and Weston. And Gino had chosen his side.
He couldn’t be trusted. That was all there was to it.
Weston lingered in the hall as Gino disappeared toward the kitchen. Then he turned, without realizing that he’d decided to do it, opened the door to the spare room, and stepped inside.
And there she was.
Charity.
Norma was right—she had grown. She was different from the girl he remembered. Her hair, which had been wild and untamable when they’d been teenagers, was now sleek and well cared for. Her nails were trimmed and polished. She’d filled out pleasantly, was curvier than the stick slender girl he’d known.
But there was no mistaking her. Those bright blue eyes that seemed to pierce right through him, that could summon thoughts from his mind straight to his tongue. That clear skin that he’d once run his fingers across every day when they’d escaped into the woods together. She had been almost as close to him as an extension of himself...
“Charity,” he said quietly.
She stared up at him. “Weston. Jesus, it’s really you.”
He blinked. “Of course, it’s really me. I live here. You’re the one who left. Why are you surprised to see me?”
“Well, I...” She hesitated. “I suppose I didn’t think you’d still be here. Lita told me most of the pack had split after I left.”
“And you thought I’d be one of them?”
“Is Hawk really alpha now?”
“You know he is.”
“Then why would you stay?”
“Because not everybody just runs off when things get hard,” he snapped. “Not everybody ditches their pack. I couldn’t leave the rest of them. I’m not like you.”
She looked slapped.
“I can’t believe you’d judge me,” he said. “I can’t believe that you of all people would judge me. For sticking with my pack! You have no idea what it was like when everyone left. You have no idea what it’s been like, trying to hold this shit together while Hawk does everything he possibly can to run us into the ground.”
“Weston—”
“I really needed you. We all really needed you. And what you did was show half our family that it was okay to bolt at the first sign of trouble. It’s your fault things are like this.”
“You’re not being fair,” she said quietly.
“How am I not being fair?”
“Because I’m an omega. You know what that means. You know what would have happened to me.”
“You should have told me.”
“You should have guessed. You know me, Weston.”
“I thought I did.”
“You should have known I wouldn’t just leave for some stupid reason. I left because there was no other way out. Hawk would have forced me to become his if I’d stayed.”
“That’s going to happen now anyway,” he said coldly. “If you’d told me what was going on back at the beginning, when you first knew you were the omega, I could have helped you, maybe. I could have figured something out. But it’s too late for that now.”
She stared at him. “Why are you being like this, Weston?”
“What are you talking about?”
“We haven’t seen each other in six years,” she pointed out. “Haven’t you wondered how I’m doing? Haven’t you missed me at all?”
“What do you want from me here? You left. You decided to leave. Am I supposed to feel bad because I didn’t spend six years pining after you?” He’d be damned if he was going to admit that he had, in fact, worried about her, that he had wondered how she was doing all the time.
“I didn’t think you’d start yelling at me the minute you saw me. That’s all.”
“I’m not yelling.”
“Your voice is raised.”
She was right. With some effort, he modulated the volume of his voice. “I’m not in the best mood, all right? I’m on guard duty all night, which means I’m not going to get any sleep because I have to watch you and make sure you don’t run away again.”
“I’m not going to run away,” she said.
He scoffed. “How crazy would I have to be to take your word for it?”
“I wouldn’t do it on your watch Weston. I do care what happens to you, you know.”
“Bullshit.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “You’re being really awful,” she said. “I’m sorry you don’t want to do guard duty, but in case it matters to you, I’ve had a pretty bad day too. I was kidnapped. The life I’ve spent six years building is over.”
“Don’t ask me to get upset about your stupid human life,” he snapped. “Don’t ask me to cry over your waitressing job and your human friends. I don’t give a damn about that shit.”
“You know? You know about my job?”
“You weren’t exactly hard to find,” he said. “This was the first day we even tried looking for you.”
“But you knew where I was,” she said slowly. “You knew I had a job as a waitress. How long have you known, Weston?”
She had misunderstood, he realized. She had thought he’d known all along that she was at the restaurant, when in fact he’d only found out today.
But what difference did that make? Had she been expecting him to come looking for her? Was that why she hadn’t bothered to tell him she was running away? It made sense, he realized suddenly. Why else would she stay so nearby? She must have thought he would come after her when she left.
As if that was his responsibility!
He wasn’t going to feel guilty for not chasing her all over creation when she hadn’t even bothered to tell him that she was leaving, or why. He wasn’t the one who had jumped ship on their relationship. That was her. And he wouldn’t let himself be held accountable for it now that she was back.
“Don’t do that,” he said brusquely.
She recoiled slightly, staring at him.
“Don’t act like it matters how long I knew where you were,” he said. “That’s not what this is about. That was never what any of this was about. I could have tracked you from the moment you walked out the front door, and it still wouldn’t make this my fault because I’m not the one who left. I’m not the one who ran away.”
“You know why I had to run, Weston!”
“I’m not talking about running away from Hawk,” he said.
“Then what are you talking about?”
You ran away from me. But he couldn’t say that aloud. Not only because he was afraid to admit to her how badly she’d hurt him—which he was—but also because they were surrounded by the rest of the pack. Someone might walk in at any minute. Gino had even said that he would be bringing Weston a dinner plate. Weston couldn’t allow any of his packmates to walk in on a lovers’ quarrel and discover the connection that he and Charity had once shared. He had to keep this strictly away from that subject.
Unfortunately, that meant he couldn’t clarify why he was angry with her. But that was all right. This conversation was going nowhere. It was clear that Charity didn’t think she’d done anything wrong. She wasn’t going to apologize to him for leaving. If anything, she seemed to expect him to apologize to her.
Well, fat chance of that. He knew he was in the right here.
He sat down with his back to the wall, pulled out his phone, and began to fiddle with it.
She stared. “Since when do you have phones?”
&n
bsp; “I thought you liked human things now.” He couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his voice.
“I like them fine, I just...the Hell’s Bears never carried phones before.”
“Is that why you left? Because you wanted a phone?”
“Jesus.”
That was offensive. He’d known it when he said it. Of course, she hadn’t left for such a trivial reason. Much as he might hate the way she’d handled it, much as he might judge her for it, he did understand why she’d gone. If he’d been in her position, about to be forced to submit to Hawk, he would have wanted to do something about it too.
But he wouldn’t have abandoned the rest of his pack to their fates. Nothing could have made him do that.
And no matter how bad things had been for him, he never would have abandoned Charity.
He would have done anything for her. He would have fought for her, risked life and limb for her. There was nothing he would have said no to. And when she had left, she had left his heart in pieces.
That wasn’t something he thought he could ever get over. No matter how understandable her reasons might have been.
Chapter Eight
CHARITY
If there was one thing about returning to the Hell’s Wolves that should have been good, a relief, it was reuniting with Weston.
Leaving him had been the hardest part of leaving the pack. She had loved him, she thought, even as a teenager. Even when she hadn’t quite known what love was. Seeing Lita and Norma had been bright spots in an otherwise horrifying day but seeing Weston should have been a joy.
But he had changed. Something was fundamentally different about him. He was no longer the Weston she had known and loved. Instead, he was angry and bitter, and he seemed much older than he had been when she’d left him. Decades older.
What had happened to him? Was this the result of living under Hawk’s thumb? If his authority had affected Weston this badly, Charity certainly didn’t like her chances.
But maybe it wasn’t Hawk. Maybe Weston had been so badly affected by her. Maybe this was all the result of her leaving him.
No. It couldn’t be that. She shook away the thought. She was overestimating her own importance. Yes, they’d loved each other. Yes, they’d hoped for a future together. But when she’d left, he would have healed. He would have moved on. And besides, if he’d felt that badly about it, wouldn’t he have come after her? He was a wonderful tracker. He could have found her if he’d wanted to.
The door opened and Gino leaned back in. “Hey, guys. Everything going all right in here?”
“Fine,” Weston said shortly.
“I brought you some lasagna.” Sure enough, he had two plates in his hands. He passed them over to Weston. “Norma’s. She says help yourself to more if you’re hungry.”
“Neither of us can leave this room, Gino,” Weston pointed out.
“Oh. Right. Well, maybe I’ll come back and check?”
“Don’t worry about it. This is plenty. You got forks?”
“Yeah.” Gino handed them over. “So... Charity. You’re an omega, huh?” He gave her a lewd grin.
Charity hugged her knees to her chest and didn’t answer.
“Lay off, Gino,” Weston said.
Gino laughed. “What’s with you?”
“She’s Hawk’s,” Weston said. “We can’t be looking at her like that.”
“Oh, calm down, I’m not going to touch her,” Gino said. “There’s nothing wrong with looking. And she grew up very pretty. Don’t you think so? Come on, you can’t tell me you wouldn’t like a taste.”
“You’re being gross, Gino.”
“What’s wrong, you aren’t attracted to her? I don’t believe that for a minute. She’s practically radiating sex. Hell, I could smell her from a block away. Why do you think she was so easy to find?”
Charity shivered. She and Gino had never been close as teens—he had always been one of the boys who’d yelled at her and at the other girls as they’d walked by, offering perverted suggestions for things they’d like to see the girls do.
But there had always been a sense of playfulness about it back then. Charity hadn’t appreciated the way the boys had talked to her, but she had understood that it was a game. They were doing it to impress each other. In a way, Charity had known, it wasn’t really about her at all.
This felt different. The things Gino was saying about her now felt true. Maybe it was because Weston was so clearly unimpressed that it couldn’t possibly be for his benefit. Maybe it was because of the way Gino was undressing her with his eyes. It felt like she was an object rather than the friend and packmate he’d known since childhood.
And she wasn’t even here for his benefit. She was supposed to be mated to Hawk. Weston was absolutely right to object to the way Gino was looking at her, the way he was talking about her.
Wasn’t he?
What if Gino knew something Weston didn’t?
What if Hawk wouldn’t mind this?
God, was it possible that Hawk was intending to share her?
She had heard of alphas doing that, of course. They had the power since any command they gave had to be obeyed. Some alphas felt that the more an omega was bred, the more babies would be born, and the better it would be for the pack. That was a valid idea, and Charity knew that some omegas enjoyed having several lovers, breeding for the pack as a whole.
But she didn’t want to mate with any of them. That was the whole reason she’d left! She had expected to be forced into a relationship with Hawk now—that was bad enough—but if it was more than just him? If it was all of them?
Life wouldn’t be worth living.
She felt shivery and nauseous and like she might start crying again, and she really didn’t want to do that in front of Gino. She looked down at her plate of lasagna, swallowing hard, but that didn’t help. This lasagna had been made for her by Norma. Norma, who loved her like a mother. Norma, who couldn’t save her.
Nobody could save her.
“Drop it, Gino,” Weston said. “Leave us in peace to eat.”
A moment later the door shut. Charity peeked up through eyelashes that were sticking together and saw that Gino had left the room.
“Jesus,” Weston muttered. “The mouth on him.”
“Did he mean all that?” Charity whispered.
“I don’t know if he meant it or not,” Weston said, glancing at her. “I know Hawk would never let him do it. You don’t have to worry about it.”
She nodded, trying to compose herself. His response hadn’t been warm, exactly, but there was understanding there, and for the first time Charity had the feeling that Weston didn’t want her to be afraid. Maybe he hadn’t changed so much after all. Maybe the man she’d known was still in there somewhere.
She was too upset to eat her lasagna, as good as it looked, and Weston didn’t seem to be feeling much better. He only picked at his. There had been a time when Charity would have asked him what was wrong, when the two of them would have talked for hours about the things that worried them, completely opening up to each other. There was a time when they’d made plans together. But Charity knew those days were over. She had made the biggest plan of her life without him. Even if he could have, he wouldn’t want to help her now.
It was a hard realization, but eventually, it occurred to Charity that she wished he wasn’t here at all.
She would rather never have seen him again than to see him like this—working with Hawk, helping him keep her captive. She hadn’t wanted to tell Weston when she’d realized she was the omega, but that had been for his sake, not because she had been afraid he’d turn her in. But maybe he would have, she thought. He certainly seems like he cares more about the pack than about me. Maybe that means he cares more about Hawk’s wellbeing than about mine.
Maybe.
There was another knock at the door. This time, Weston got to his feet and opened it.
For several seconds, Charity didn’t even recognize the tall blonde man on
the other side. Then, suddenly, the memory clunked into place. “Holy shit. Robbie?”
“Hi Charity.” Robbie smiled at her.
She stared at him in open disbelief. The Robbie she had known had been—well, not short and fat, exactly, but definitely of a modest height with a layer of pudge obscuring his muscles. He’d been ruddy-faced and had had hair that came down past his ears.
The man before her couldn’t have looked more different. His hair was short—not as short as Gino’s and Hawk’s, but short enough that it no longer curled. His face was still reddish, but now the bone structure was defined, as was the shape of his muscles. Most significantly, he seemed to have grown about a foot and a half.
He turned to Weston. “I’m not bringing you any whiskey,” he said. “You can forget it.”
“You know I’m stuck here with her all night, don’t you?” Weston said.
“I know. I already asked Hawk if I could spell you in a few hours. He said no.”
“He’s not onto us, is he?”
“I don’t think so,” Robbie said. “It didn’t seem like that. I think he’s just wanting to give you a hard time, honestly.”
“Sounds like him. Come on, just bring me something. I’m going out of my gourd here.”
“You drink too much, Weston.”
Did he? That was new. The Weston she’d known—well, he’d never had a drink, of course. He had been too young. But he had never seemed very interested in it either. In fact, Charity could recall a few separate instances in which he’d told her stories of Hawk and the boys daydreaming about drinking for the first time, and he’d always rolled his eyes at the idea. He’d seemed to be above it.
“Can we not do this tonight?” Weston asked. “Just...just give me a break about it. Just for tonight. You can give me hell tomorrow if you want.”
“I don’t want to,” Robbie said.
“I know. I didn’t mean it like that. But you get where I’m coming from.”