by Kathryn Moon
“Um…nothing bad was ever made better by letting anyone stew over what it might be for any length of time. You can’t tell me I need to hear it later, and not tell me now.” That just gave my anxiety an entire football field inside of me to run rampant with wild fears and assumptions.
“Lola…” Wes whispered, physically wincing as I tried to catch his eye.
No no no no.
“Is it about me?” Aw, fuck. Wes looked like he was about to cry, and that just made my blood run colder, shivers teasing at my back. “Wes, please. Rip the band-aid off.”
Why did I feel like this was going to hurt worse than any little band-aid action?
Wes swallowed hard and looked up, meeting my gaze. “We broke into Indy’s cloud today.”
My stomach swirled like an overcrowded pool of eels as Wes hesitated.
“It was…mostly, it was really helpful. He stopped using his phone and has been sticking with burners since the Hangmen were broken up, but we’ve got a good collection of leads to follow to track him down.”
“But,” I whispered, waiting for the anvil to drop.
“But…but I found a video,” Wes said.
The word was so innocent in itself, it took me too long to feel the weight of the implication.
“Of me. You found a video of me,” I breathed. The world seemed to grow muted around me, my own pulse amplified in my ears like someone had stuffed them full of cotton.
Wes didn’t answer. The pain was in his eyes and the lines of anger around his pressed lips. “I didn’t watch it all. Just made sure it wasn’t… I fucking hate this guy, sweetheart, but if I can say one thing, one positive thing, that shit isn’t uploaded anywhere. It’s just…”
It’s just that it had happened in the first place. When, when had it happened? The more Indy had hung around my time with Buzz, the less sober I tended to be, but even so, there was…
There was only one night I really thought it could’ve been, simply because it was the night I somehow remembered the least of. And what I did was the most vivid parts of my nightmares.
“You didn’t watch?” I asked, a kind of heavy numbness sinking over me, making my limbs ache and my head feel foggy.
“No. Just…when I saw your face, that was it,” Wes said. He lifted a hand to my face and I flinched automatically. I grabbed his hand before he could pull it away, pressing my cheek into his palm and letting my eyes fall shut.
Except Wes’ touch didn’t erase all of the other touches I was imagining in my head, ones I wasn’t even really certain had happened or not.
“I need to see it,” I said.
“No, Lola,” Wes murmured, sitting up straighter, trying to pull me to his chest.
I braced myself. For once, I didn’t want the cuddle. “Wes, I…I need to know what happened.”
“You…you don’t need to see it Lola. You shouldn’t put yourself through that. It’s not gonna make it go away.”
“You don’t know what’s on it, and I don’t know what’s on it, Wes. What if…”
I scoffed at myself. What if it wasn’t that bad?
It was, I knew it was. The reason Indy had that recording was because he’d been watching that night. The reason I’d woken up reeking of alpha was because…
I twisted away from Wes as acid burnt in my chest, tickling at my throat. Hold it together, Lola. Wes won’t let you face this if he thinks you’re gonna throw up and fall to pieces. Be strong. Be the girl that punched the asshole who tried to grab her today.
“Lola…”
“It’s not rightfully your decision to make, Wes. I need to see that video. I deserve to know what happened that night. It was my body.” I made my words solid and hard, my voice steady, and it took every ounce of strength in me, even as my skin prickled with cold.
Wes was quiet, his hands hovering over my back. He wasn’t sure how to handle me, I knew that about Wes. When I asked, he jumped. This time, I was just asking for something really high. If it were Matthieu or Caleb or hell, any of the others, they would’ve put their foot down. But with Wes… He wanted to believe in my strength as much as I did, and he didn’t like to push back, to challenge my own control.
“Okay, sweetheart. Do you want me to go get Leo or—”
I shook my head and steeled myself, maintaining a calm exterior, even as avalanches of pain were cascading down inside of me. “This part I need to do alone.”
Wes sighed, a heavy and hopeless sound, and grabbed his laptop bag.
You idiot. You stupid bitch. You know what happens next. You know what happened that night too.
Wes drew a dark screen up on his laptop, and I nearly threw myself across the room to escape the first little glint of silver, one of Indy’s stupid bracelets.
“Lola, I…”
“I’m going to watch it in the guest room. I’ll be down when I’m done,” I said, rising from Wes’ lap. I leaned in and kissed his cheek for the sake of the lie, praying every second that I wasn’t about to be sick.
Wes’ eyes were fixed to me as I took the computer in my hands. We both knew what a fucking awful idea this was. I already owed Wes an apology for letting me get away with it. But I walked out the door, relieved no one had come to check on us, and crossed the hall to the guest room. I shut the door behind me and stared down at the laptop in my hands.
It would be a better idea to drop it out a window. Or to take it back to Wes and ask him to get rid of every trace of that video without anyone else ever seeing it.
Indy has seen it, I thought. He was there. He’d made this. He’d done this to me. And he hadn’t been alone.
Maybe it was a weak excuse, but there was something in me that wanted to hate him for every single thing he’d put me through, and to do that I really believed I needed to know each detail.
I sat cross-legged on the bed with the laptop in front of me and took three long breaths. My hand snapped out and hit the play button like it was poisonous.
“Her name was Lola…she was a showgirl…” Indy’s hand caressed a woman’s—my—stomach in dim lighting as he sang at a whisper. There was a bang of a door, tinny and distorted on the phone, and he continued singing. He only knew the first stupid lines of that stupid song. “With yellow feathers in her hair and a dress cut down to there. Ahh…she’s waking up. Get ready.”
“Where’s Buzz?” my voice whimpered.
This was what hell felt like.
Twelve
Rake
My eyes flicked back to the doorway, waiting for Lola and Wes to reappear for dinner. My heart had barely stopped hammering since Matthieu and Wes started calling about Lola being missing, and I just wanted to see her again to reassure myself that she’d made it back safely.
“All I’m saying is that we already know she's pack. If there was a bond, we’d at least have known she was safe. Or running, you know?” I whispered over the kitchen counter to Caleb and to Leo’s back at the stove.
“You know I am as much a fan of the idea of Lola bonding this pack as you are, but I’m telling you, she’s not ready for that step. And doing it as a security measure isn’t going to boost her confidence about her place with us. She’ll feel like a burden,” Leo said.
Matthieu was sitting at my side, ignoring his second glass of scotch and watching the conversation with keen interest. I was pretty sure I had an ally in him if it came to it, and I was willing to test the theory.
“If anything, the bond might help convince her she’s not a burden,” I said. “She’ll know how we feel about her.”
“Rake, I…I see your argument, but I do think there’s an element of rush to it,” Caleb said. “Lola deserves to feel steady, and I’m not sure a sudden bond would achieve that.”
“If I was an alpha, Lola would’ve been bonded by the end of fashion week,” I muttered.
“If you were an alpha, Lola would’ve avoided you like the plague. Your aggression works to your advantage because you’re an omega,” Matthieu said, words clipped and shoulders
high.
Okay, so maybe not an ally. Not that Matthieu wasn’t right. Because Lola had been alpha shy even a month ago. I’d let myself forget that with how far she’d come. Cough, taking knots from Caleb, cough. I huffed and bent over at the counter, scrubbing my face with my palms.
“I know Lola and I aren’t in the same place as the rest of you, but for the record, I agree with Rake,” Cyrus said, leaning into the counter at the corner of the kitchen, a deep glass of wine in his hand.
“Look, we all know the pack is on the same page, okay?” Leo said, staring at each of us. “But for her sake, we should take this one challenge at a time. Let’s make sure Lola is good after this scare.”
Wes’ steps were clear overhead and I fidgeted at the island, waiting for him and Lola to arrive in the kitchen. Except when he did, it was only Wes. I stretched on the stool, hoping Lola was just hidden by all of those muscles and bulk, but there was no sign of her.
“Where is she?” Matthieu asked, sitting up.
“In the guest room,” Wes said, and Matthieu nodded.
I stared at my alpha, the one I’d known longest, all but my brother. I’d seen Wes at his best when he was in love for the first time and had just started his own company, and at his worst when that first flame had broken his heart and he’d lost a client to his old company. And right now, the look on his face was the same terrible mix of self-disgust and heavy-hearted despair. No, this face was even more crumpled, and the sight of it left me with the sensation that the floor had been taken out from under me.
“What happened?” I asked.
Wes swallowed twice and shook his head. “I…she—I think I fucked up.”
Leo and Caleb both swung away from the stove, and Matthieu’s hands fisted around the edge of the counter.
“What do you mean?” Matthieu asked, rising from the stool.
If I had been an alpha, I would’ve growled. It was a testament to Wes and our pack that even dropping a bomb like that, no one lunged at Wes. We knew he’d never hurt Lola.
Wes looked like he might be sick, but he jammed his hands in his pockets and met our eyes, his shoulders heavy. “They broke into Indy’s digital shit last night. I spent all day digging through it and… Fuck, anyway, I found a video of Lola from when she was staying with them.”
The silence hit the room in a single stroke, so thick it was like there was no sound in the world for a moment. And then it broke with a whisper.
“No,” Leo sighed out.
“She asked to see it,” Wes said, and I flinched away from the sound of his voice. “I should’ve said no. I shoulda fucking deleted it this morning. I shouldn’t’ve told her about it.”
“She’s watching it,” Matthieu said, and Wes nodded, motion jerky. Wes’ mouth was twisted in a snarl, and I knew the anger was directed mainly at himself.
“Fuck,” Leo muttered, bracing himself against the island, his head dropping down to the floor.
“Should someone…go be with her?” Caleb asked.
“She asked to be alone and I—”
“It’s no one’s right but Lola’s to see that,” I said, nodding to Wes. “And if she… God, I don’t know what the right thing to do is. I don’t like thinking of her being alone but…”
“But I’m not sure we can barge in on her right now,” Leo murmured to the floor.
“We put together a plate of food for her. We give her…no more than an hour. It is her right to… But it is our job as…” Matthieu sucked in a deep breath and looked us each in the eye, “…as her potential pack, to make sure she gets through this and doesn’t take the responsibility of what happened onto her shoulders. Needing space and isolating herself are two different things.”
“Agreed,” Caleb said, and the rest of us murmured assent.
Smoke and the start of garlic burning rose up from the stove, and Leo cursed and turned the burners off, shaking his head.
“Honestly, though. Who can say they’re hungry right now?” Leo asked, and no one answered.
Lola didn’t come down for dinner. At some point, the shower ran in the guest room en suite. Ran, and ran, and ran. Matthieu and Wes were both in their offices, and the rest of us were curled up together in Caleb’s little library. All three rooms were within hearing distance of the guest room, the entire pack clearly waiting for the sound of the door opening. I was curled up between both of my alphas, Leo on Caleb’s other side, but the mood was ugly. Our entire bond was thick with stress and worry, and it was as if each minute that passed added a cement brick to my chest.
“How long has it been?” I whispered.
“An hour. But I…” Caleb sighed. “I don’t know if it’s an alpha she should see right now?”
Leo shifted at the end of the couch, and I sat up to look at him. “Can I…can I come too?”
I felt Leo’s refusal in my chest like a brick wall, but it seemed to crumble upon impact, and behind that there was only Leo’s honest and gentle concern.
“Would you go and see if you can talk her into coming to bed with all of us?” Leo asked.
I sat up straighter. Leo and Lola had a strong connection. Of all of us, I was pretty sure Leo could ride the waves of Lola’s struggles best. And as for the alphas…Lola turned to them for protection and a kind of shielding. I assumed I’d be the last choice to go to her now.
“She loves you,” Leo reminded me. “All you have to do is go in and be with her. Feel out what she’s up for.”
I nodded and stood up from the couch. I could do that. There were things I was confident in—sex and laughter and parties—and none of those applied here. But Leo knew me, and if he thought I could help Lola right now, then that’s what I would do.
Matthieu was in the hall when I left the library, but he was only standing and staring at the door, his brow furrowed.
“I don’t know what to do,” he whispered.
“Let me,” I said. He nodded, but didn’t move as I approached the door.
The handle turned, a surprising relief lifting the weight from my chest. At least she hadn’t locked us out. It was dark in the room, and the light from the hall fell over Lola’s still legs on the bed. She was on her side, facing the door, wearing sweatpants and one of Leo’s sweaters. She was as still as a doll as I stepped inside, eyes fixed to the wall.
Did I speak? Did I wait for her to acknowledge me?
Leo would go and sit at her side and brush her wet hair off her cheek. Caleb or Matthieu would lift her up into their arms and bundle her up and purr until she fell asleep. But they weren’t here.
I moved to the far side of the bed and slid in behind her, close but not crowding, one of my arms going over her waist to tangle my fingers with hers up by her face.
“I’m okay,” Lola said, sounding the exact opposite of okay. In her head, she was back in that place, I just knew it.
I tested the waters, scooting closer to her back, sighing as her legs curled with mine and her fingers squeezed my hand.
“I think I should just be alone tonight,” she said next.
Fuck. This was the part I was afraid of. Did I push or retreat? What was more valuable to her right now? Being cared for or being obeyed? I had a feeling that no matter what I chose, I would be making a mistake. There was no road map that drove you safely through this territory.
“I know…I know you probably want that. But I think you might be wrong,” I said, cursing myself in my head over and over as I laid out the words in the gentlest way I could. “I will leave if you ask again, but I think it would be better if someone else was here with you.”
It doesn’t have to be me, I thought, but I really didn’t want her to send me away. She’d showered with the scent canceling materials for the first time in weeks, which made me a little sad.
Lola released my hand and rolled toward me, and I prepared myself for her to push me away.
“Fine,” she murmured, tucking her face under my chin and folding her arms between us.
It didn’t real
ly feel like a win.
Thirteen
Lola
Every minute of the next day, it ran through my head. Now I knew what their faces looked like. Now I knew what they did to me. Now I knew why I hurt the way I did the next morning. Where the bruises came from. Why I flinched for months afterward when someone reached for me.
I went through the motions of the day. Wake up, shower, have breakfast, and accept the kisses on my cheek, the fingers through my hair, the arms around my shoulders…
It wasn’t uncomfortable. It did still feel good for Matthieu to nuzzle my forehead or for Leo to kiss my jaw as he passed by. It’s just that the good was buried under a blanket of a mildewy memory and images I’d seen on a screen. Was I still that girl on the bed who moved when told, who cried and obeyed and hurt? I’d put her away, but not permanently. She’d only been hiding from view.
Still, I was functioning. I went with Wes in the morning to make another police report about the attempted kidnapping. I found a therapist where I could make an appointment for the next week. I did my work at the magazine, and I sat down for dinner with the pack.
It was just that I wasn’t alone now. She was sitting with me, squatting in my chest and wincing from the gazes of the men around me.
“Would someone take me to my apartment tomorrow?” I asked, drawing a forkful of salad up to my mouth. I wanted my old tennis shoes in case I needed to run again, even though my body felt weirdly limp and weak all day.
Trapped between two vaguely familiar alphas from the gang, hands slapping on my skin as I whimpered and did as I was told.
“Your apartment?” Matthieu asked in the ensuing silence.
I glanced around the table and realized the entire pack was staring at me in shock. “It’s been a couple weeks, I should make sure everything is okay, right?”
“I’ve had the guys checking on it at least once a day,” Wes said.
I blinked, brow furrowing as I stared back at Wes. “But that’s so much trouble.”