Page 106 of Believe it or Knot

There comes the sound of a third voice. One I recognize all too well. Fucking Joey.

Luca’s warning comes back to me.

“Fucking Joey,” I mutter.

Rafe catches it though and says quieter, more dangerous than I’ve heard him in a long time. “What about him? You think he had something to do with this?” He asks even quieter.

“He was there, wasn’t he? At the interview. I lost track of him, but he was fucking there.” He hasn’t been shy about sharing his concerns regarding Sorrel and Gage, regarding our apparently sudden and wholehearted infatuation with her. He warned us about her repeatedly. Told us we should be cautious and keep our distance. He’s pointed out all the times she’s done anything even remotely shady in his eyes. Which hasn’t been much, if I’m honest, but only added to the doubts already taken root in my mind that she possibly had nefarious motives. The fake recording of her cemented it.

“He’s never hidden that he doesn’t like her, that he doesn’t trust her. He told us multiple times it wasn’t good for Liam’s image to be seen dating her.” My mind flashes back to the restaurant, to the paparazzi outside and Patrick attacking Sorrel. “He’s the only one besides us who knew where we were taking Sorrel that night.” I don’t have to elaborate. Rafe already knows what I mean.

He swears, viciously, then says, “Liam, talk to Gray.”

There’s a shuffle on the other side of the phone, and then Liam’s voice comes over the line. “Why is Rafe going after Joey with murder on his face?”

Maybe I should try to be more delicate about it, maybe I should protect my omega from the knowledge that his assistant is such a lying piece of shit, but then, Liam isn’t a normal omega, and if he finds out we kept this from him, there will be consequences. “Because he’s the one who did this,” I tell him simply.

A loud growl of rage from my omega has me pressing on the accelerator harder, speeding through the city to get to my pack, to find a solution, to win Sorrel back.

Track 24: Last Love Song

I stay with the Falcone pack for two more days before I head home. Sadie and Sylvie come with me, much to the dismay of their packs. Both the Werths and the Falcones wanted to accompany their omegas, but my friends put their foot down… er, feet down, saying I needed girl time. Davis protested that he’d be happy to do face masks and manicures with us, but Vee still told him no.

I’m pretty sure they only agreed because both packs have the woods around our three cabins wired with enough security cameras that they know if a chipmunk sneezes close by. And I’m fairly certain that they’ll still follow us up the mountain, just at a reasonable distance.

Their devotion to my friends acts as both a balm to my wounded heart and also an irritant. I’ll never have that.

We’ve been holed up in my little cabin for two days. The girls have only left me alone long enough to check on their cabins and on the rare occasion we all need to shower at the same time. The three of us sharing a single bathroom is a bit of a nightmare.

We spend our days lazing on the dock in the sun, swimming, talking about anything but the pack that broke my heart. Mostly we talk about Sylvie’s upcoming bonding ceremony, and how Sadie and her guys have decided not to have one.

They tried to avoid the topic at first, not wanting to bring up any negative emotions after what I’ve just gone through, but I am genuinely happy for my friends. They deserve to be loved and cared for by packs that adore them. Once I expressed that, they loosened up a bit.

The time with them has helped so much, but I’m starting to feel antsy, anxious. I’m not used to being inactive, and that is what I’ve been for nearly a week now. Wallowing miserably.

My phone buzzes, and I glance at the screen—unknown number—before silencing it and then navigating to block it. I don’t have to listen to the inevitable message to know that I don’t want whoever this is to call me again.

It’s probably just one of the many, many threatening phone calls I’ve received since the break-up. It didn’t take long for my name to be leaked on the internet. Twenty minutes later, my phone number was released. I think my address was out there too, but Ethan was quick to take down and obliterate any websites that shared the information.

I’m pretty sure he’s under strict orders from Sadie to destroy anyone who shares my private information with anyone.

It doesn’t seem to work all that well, though, seeing as the calls keep coming. Less than there were originally, but still enough to be disturbing. Both the Werth and Falcone packs offered to get me a new cell with a new number, but I haven’t taken them up on it yet. I really should just turn my phone off. Get a new number maybe, but… well, I’m waiting for Gage to apologize.

I suppose if he couldn’t get ahold of me, he’d just… show up. Hunt me down until he can apologize.

But I’m still hesitant.

Be honest, Sorrel. You’re hoping that someday you’ll unblock the Cordova pack and they’ll reach out to you and tell you what idiots they’ve been. And that they still want you.

I snort at the ridiculousness of that hope. It’s never going to happen. Ever.

I just have to accept it and move on.

And in the spirit of that thought… I need to get back to work.

Even if the idea of returning to flipping burgers after the promise of a life of relative leisure and creative pursuits with the Cordova pack, of never having to scrabble for enough money to pay bills or never needing to work if I didn’t want to, makes my already tender heart even more tender.

I love my parents so much.. I know they loved me. But they saddled me with their dream rather than letting me find my own. I was almost there, almost able to spend my life writing songs. With the Cordova pack’s funding behind me, I could have hired a manager for the Shack, more employees, people to run my parents’ business so I could be relatively hands off.

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