Page 45 of Pack Apollo

Billie

Laying on my childhood bed, I stare at the ceiling and wonder how my life has become so depressing and mangled. Oh yeah, I went against everything my mother ever taught me and fell in love with a pack. Even going so far as to bond with one of them. I'm not sure if that's the reason I cry every time I think of him. If somehow the bonding has made the separation worse. I could look back through the information from the center if I wanted and if I didn't leave it on campus like it's a life I don't plan on going back to. I opted to finish the rest of the semester online. Somehow that's a thing they allow with omegas. I'd never hoped to use the special treatment that I know that it is, but there's no way in hell I can face Brent three times a week, if not more. Talk about torture.

My social media has taken a backseat to my mental health, possibly ruining everything I’ve worked so hard to build. I just couldn’t force myself to make happy, be positive videos when I’ve felt anything but.

I close my eyes and will myself not to think of it or them like I've tried doing for weeks. Sometimes it helps. Other times not so much. I'd almost contemplated running away for real, finding a new state and new school. Not necessarily to escape them, but I'm exhausted dealing with my mother. As soon as she woke from her drunken stupor and found me in the house, I've heard nothing but I told you so, and you might as well quit and come home. She doesn't even know about the pack. She likely thinks that I can't hack it at school and am still wasting my time and money. Though, why she cares is beyond me. It's not like she's paying for it.

When I'd brought up Daryl, I thought she was going to slap me as the name left my mouth. She'd shut down completelyand hides anytime she thinks I might bring it up. All after calling me a liar, of course. No one but her knows what happened between her and my father, because he's gone forever living his life with his happy little pack without us. According to her.

If matters couldn't possibly be worse, I think bonding with Cordell has pushed me into an early heat. I started feeling it about a week ago. I've been running a fever, cramping with body aches, and been wanting to rearrange my room fifty times. I've got the shades closed to the darkest setting possible, and it still isn't enough. I don't want to leave my room, but I don't want to stay here either. This heat is going to be miserable, and my mother is going to be unbearable. She's never believed in it. Thought it was just something I over exaggerated every time it happened. Boy do I wish.

As if thought into existence, a cramp hits me so hard that I clutch my belly and go into the fetal position on my bed. I hold my breath, hoping that it'll go away soon. Once it does, I let out a short lived sigh of relief.

"Screw this," I say out loud.

I've been contemplating going back to the campus to the center for my heat. If it's as great as Millie-Jane says it is, then I should be able to at least get through this one and figure out what to do about the next one. Decision made, I jump to my feet and grab my duffle off the floor. I'm stuffing my clothes back into it with one hand and ordering a ride with another as the doorbell rings.

The sound freezes me in place. No one has touched that grimy button in a long time. Mom doesn't have visitors. Ever. Waiting a few minutes, I hope they'll get the hint that no one is home and go away. Moments later, it rings again. The sound is loud inside our empty house, and as evil as it is to say, I hope it wakes her up. Which is why I don't bother answering it. It rings again. Then again.

I'm already in pain and annoyed as hell at this point, so I go to answer it since she's clearly not going to. I unlock it and swing it open hard with a glare cold enough to freeze water in hell. My expression flips to one of disgust instantly as I curse myself for thinking it can't get worse.

"Hi, Billie," Daryl says with a small wave.

"You have two seconds, which you don't deserve, to tell me what you're doing here before I call the cops," I snap at him, holding up to show him I've already got 911 dialed.

"Wait, don't do that," he begs. "I didn't even know that you'd be here. I'm honest to God here to see your Maureen. I thought you'd still be at school."

"Well, I'm obviously not," I snark. "Probably shouldn't let some random stranger into our house, but screw it is my motto lately, so come on in. Let me go wake my mother from the drunken stupor she's been in for the past six years."

"Are you okay?" he asks gently.

"Don't do that," I bite out. "Don't pretend like you know me."

I would feel bad if I wasn't so annoyed that he's here, and I'm now having to go wake my mother for him,andhis thick leather and smoke scent is like sucking down a lungful of cactus right now. It's making me sick to my stomach, even more than I already am.

Walking into my mother's room used to make me happy. Especially when I'd crawl in bed with her Saturday mornings and we'd have one of our talks. Now, it makes me as sick as Daryl's scent. Dirty clothes are strewn about and it smells like filth and booze.

I kick some bottles and clothes out of the way to get to her bed. Tapping the side of it with my foot, I call out to her, "Mom. Mom you need to get up. There's someone in the living room that needs to speak with you."

She mumbles something unintelligible and buries her face deeper into her pillow.

I sigh and roll my eyes to the ceiling. "He brought you a bottle of Jack said his name is Daryl."

The way that she shoots up out of bed, one would think that she was electrocuted. She stumbles over the mess all over the floor and out the door. I follow just long enough to watch her burst into tears and fall into Daryl's arms, who simply looks over her head to me in sympathy. I don't care if he was telling the truth, I don't want on that crazy train right now.

Going back to my room, I go back to packing. I didn't bring that much back with me, but I've somehow managed to spread it out everywhere. Probably when I was getting the urge to nest.

I'm pulling some shirts off the hangers when the doorbell rings again. I close my eyes and count to five. This really can't be happening. It's like the universe is pushing my button as hard as it can today. As often too as the damn thing goes off again.

Stomping out of my room, I don't hear any movement inside the house, letting me know that no one was planning on coming to the door if I hadn't. Another deep sigh and eye roll, and I'm yanking the door open to my second surprise of the day. One that steals the breath right out of my lungs in a whoosh.

So many emotions war within me that they devour each other until I'm left with nothing.

"This is perfect," I tell every member of Pack Apollo, staring directly at Roz as I say it. "Come on in. You're just in time."

"Billie, can we talk please?" Roz asks.

"Sure, sure," I offer. "Come on in."

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