Page 15 of Hard Knot

Nothing compared to the onslaught of agony she had to endure from strangers who couldn’t care less about being gentle and loving to someone as innocent and pure as my best friend.

When he finished, I threw out every colorful piece of clothing I owned. I couldn’t dare see myself wearing a colorful piece when my best friend was six feet under despite being the kindest loving individual on this planet.

If this is what happens to Omegas with tender hearts, might as well embrace being the villain they already think I am.

My phone's ringtone cuts through the heavy silence, making me jump. The screen lights up with "DAD," and I can already tell from the time of day what kind of call this will be.

I hit the speaker, not bothering to move from my position.

"You're drinking again."

"M'fine," he slurs, confirming my suspicion. I’m trying not to laugh because whenever my dad is drunk, his thick Russian accent returns. He always tries to act Italian when he’s sober because he likes to give off the impression he’s from my mother’s country. People are “less frightened” by Italians than Russians, so it makes their lives easier.

Until someone barks up the wrong tree and my dad gets angry.

"Just... just wanted to check on my baby girl. How'd the evaluation go?"

"About as well as expected," I say, trying to keep my voice light. He surely knows from the magnitude of attempts how it went, but he always asks. Like any good father would. "You know how these things are."

“Foolish blind fuckers,” he concludes, making me smirk.

“As you know it,” I hum, closing my eyes for a moment as I just envision him sitting in his big leather chair at his office. I miss the luxury black walls and their gold accents.

To be honest, I miss home.

"When're you coming home for Thanksgiving?" He hiccups, and I hear ice cubes clinking against glass. "Your mother's already planning the menu."

A laugh escapes me, more bitter than I intend.

"Dad, you know I can't. Omegas without a pack aren't allowed to leave campus during holidays. It’s our punishment for not being mated up and making little babies."

"Bullshit!" The sudden volume makes me wince, though I know he’s upset. He hates me missing anything family-related. "You're an Abercrombie. Those...thoserulesshouldn't apply to you. I'll make some calls?—"

"Dad, stop." My voice cracks instead of being all growly as I’d originally intended. I watch another tear fall. "Please. Just... stop drinking so much, okay? You're going to hurt yourself."

There's a long pause, filled only with the sound of his breathing and what I suspect is him pouring another drink.

"I miss you, Sweetie," he finally says, voice smaller now. There’s that low loving voice he dares to share with only me and Mother. No one gets to listen to my father’s vulnerable voice. He’s normally barking out orders or insults. "We both do. The house is too quiet without you. Miss having you practicing at all hours of the day, causing a ruckus, and spending all my money on those odd shoes."

“Ballet shoes,” I laugh remembering how he’d nag me with how often I’d have to buy a new pair. I guess one every week was far too much, but no matter how many times my father complained, he never cut me off in using his card. “You miss those transactions now, don’t you.”

Now I’ve been using the same set of shoes for a year.

Torn up and ruined and yet I can’t push myself to get a new pair.

Get those new ones that they make in pure black with their silky exterior and unique ribbon binds that wrap up your angles and legs.

“M’hmn,” he agrees, which makes me smirk further as I briefly open my eyes, only to silently sigh. Letting my head fall back against the lockers, I close my eyes once more.

My parents aren't perfect — far from it.

Mom with her crushing expectations and social climbing, Dad with his growing dependence on alcohol and stress of making things continue to roll in his various businesses and other commitments.

They'd screwed up plenty, especially with hiding my Omega status for so long, but it was never out of shame. It was to protect me from all those who wished to belittle my existence.

They'd never rejected me.

Never looked at me like I was less than human.

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