Page 40 of Knot Here for You

“Bullshit,” Davis says, kneeling next to Topher.

“What?” I flick my gaze up to him.

He smirks. “I’m calling bullshit, beautiful. You’re lying through your fucking teeth right now. You can’t even look at us while you do it.”

The other four men relax slightly at his words. In the past, he would have been right. I was a terrible liar, could never look them in the eye while I did, and I’d blush like crazy. It was something Jackson and I had in common, actually. The others teased us to no end about it.

But they don’t know me now. They don’t know how I’ve looked in my own eyes every day for the last seven years and lied to myself, telling myself that I don’t need them, that I’m fine, that someday it won’t hurt so much. I’ve gotten so good at it, that I fooled myself into thinking coming back here to this fucking city would be fine, that I could handle it.

I meet Davis’s eyes, keeping my gaze steady as I repeat. “I found a new pack.” His smirk falls. My eyes move to Topher’s. “One that wants me.” I tip my chin back to look at Ash. “That has wanted me from the moment they saw me.” I don’t let the devastation I see in his eyes stop me as I look at Ford. The pain in his eyes is almost enough to make me break, almost enough to let the lie shatter, but I grit my teeth and push forward. “They offered me a bond to make me their omega.” I meet Jackson’s eyes last, making sure the false truth is clear in my gaze. “I’m going to join their pack when I’m done here.”

Jackson’s nostrils flair, his chest heaves and I can see the struggle, the war he’s waging with his alpha right now. “You have to let me go,” I whisper. “Please let me go. It hurts. Being with you hurts.”

His eyes flutter closed as he lets out another slow breath. Then he shakes his head slowly before pinning me with his gray gaze. “I’m sorry, baby girl. So fucking sorry, but we can’t do that. You’re ours. We can’t just let you go.”

I push to my feet, waiting for one of them to bark at me again. When they don’t, I back up to the door, reaching behind me to grab the handle. “You already did it once. It shouldn’t be that hard for you to do it again.”

I twist the handle and yank the door open.

“Vee,” Ford says just before I slip out the door, making me pause. I don’t turn to look at him, can’t take the pain of it. “We never let you go. We were looking for you, would have kept looking for you for as long as it took.”

I glance over my shoulder at him. “I was forty-five minutes away at a lake we used to go to all the time. There’s a record of my name change to Kinsella, of my adoption into their pack. How hard were you really looking?”

I slip out the door and shut it firmly behind me, before walking away with my shoulders squared and my spine straight. I keep my steps quick, but not at a run.

I halfway expect one of them to follow me, to chase me down.

But just like before, no one comes after me.

And just like before, I tell myself it doesn’t matter.

I head back to my house right from the bank. I had thought I might stop and grab something to eat. But I feel itchy and anxious and like I need to put miles between us in order to feel better. So I hit the highway immediately.

I spend the night drinking wine and packing, though the number of times I pick up my phone to tell Aurie that I’m not coming back, my inheritance be damned, is far too many to count.

The distance doesn’t really help, and I still feel itchy and uncomfortable. Like my skin is stretched too tight and I’m so fucking hot. Though that might be from the alcohol.

I text Sorrel and Sadie and see if they’re around, feeling like I need a distraction and some good old-fashioned girl talk. But Sadie tells me she’s out of town, for what I don’t know. And Sorrell doesn’t respond, which means she’s probably working the late shift at The Snack Shack, the tiny restaurant on the other side of the lake that originally belonged to her parents.

I pour another glass of wine while I consider making the trek over, but inevitably pass out while thinking it over.

The next morning I pack up my car while battling a hangover, bringing mostly blankets and pillows, along with my box of bookbinding supplies and clothes.

On my way back to the city, I swear I spot the same black SUV behind me several times, but tell myself it doesn’t mean anything. I’m on a highway, for crying out loud, one of the main roads into Granton. It’s not out of the realm of possibility that they’re just commuting. That has to be the case.

Because if the assholes that broke my heart have someone following me, I might dick punch them. Even as my omega side preens at being under their watchful eye.

Can you blame them, Vee? You disappeared for seven years. Of course, they want to keep tabs on you.

I make myself think in terms of me being a job to them, nothing more. Because I can’t afford to think they might actually want to try again, to have me be a part of their pack. I won’t survive another rejection.

The bungalow Aurie rented for me is adorable. Light gray siding, crisp white trim, a porch that stretches the front of the house, with neat landscaping around a brick path that leads from the side walkup to the house. It looks bigger than my little cabin by a few hundred square feet, but not giant.

The interior is neutral, soothing, all light grays and whites with splashes of sage green. All the fabrics are so soft, cuddle worthy, which makes my omega extremely happy, even if none of the blankets and pillows carry a scent. It’s better that way.

My nose isn’t as strong as any other omega’s would be. The suppressants I pump into my body dull my sense of smell, as well as my scent. Of course, that doesn’t seem to matter when it comes to the younger Werth Pack. I smell all of them just fine.

Still, a fresh clean house with no lingering alpha, beta or omega scents is a joy and a pleasure.

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