Page 97 of Drown My Sorrow

Shale growls. “Tell her to play nice or I’ll bring the pack for a visit.”

Emrys looks at us and laughs again. “So, Shale’s dad is a controlling piece of shit. But his mother is a manipulative bitch. She ran off with my dad and bonded with him. Eben,” Emrys trips over the name and clears his throat, “and I grew up together, but we got to see Shale occasionally. My father is a miserable son of a bitch who wants everyone else to be miserable with him.” Emrys’ explanation is so calm and flat that it takes me a moment to really absorb the horror of his childhood.

“Oh, I see,” Ezy says with a grin. “I just lost two of those, too.”

I’m finding this conversation a bit morbid. “My parents didn’t notice my brother had died for a month.” I add before I can stop myself.

My words fall into the group like a grenade.

Beau sidles up and pulls me into a hug. “Fuck them. You have us now.”

What. Is. This?

I’m baffled, but I am already struggling to control the urge to cry. Keagan presses Aspyn into us, who lets out a squeak.

“It was a long time ago,” I murmur.

“And, clearly, you’re over it,” Beau murmurs into my ear. “It’s okay to be sad, Gael. You can let it all out, and we will be here to pick you up.”

“I’m not sure what to do when you guys are being nice,” I admit.

“We will always be nice to each other. It’s everyone else we hate. Pack is pack.”

I glance at Kelly, who looks lost for words.

Is it that simple? Pack is pack. Everyone else is not?

“Come on, heartbreaker, let’s go show our omega her dreams.”

Chapter twenty-three

Aspyn

AspynAged18

The house looks different. I can’t put my finger on what it is, but there’s this feeling in the air. It’s so intense that when I walk in, I just stand there, my gaze jumping around, straining to figure out what it is.

My leg twinges, but I limp across the kitchen and push open the door to the only bedroom. My mum and I sleep in there together on the stained mattress, although more often than not, she stays out all night and only returns when she’s got nowhere to go.

The bedding is gone.

I stare at it. At this filthy mattress. The sheet is gone, the quilt, the only pillow. All that’s left is just the thin mattress in the almost empty room.

I mean, it’s innocent enough, but there is something about its absence that terrifies me. I curl my fingers hard into the wood, swaying with the force of my fear.

I hobble in, moving as quickly as my leg will allow. I slide open the built in robes and find my clothes folded neatly where I left them.

But next to the spot, where her clothes should be, there is a space. A yawning space, and I realise that her clothes aren’t just not there, they are gone.

I check the rest of the robes and find our travel bag also gone.

I lose my grip on my cane and hobble to the bathroom, clutching at the walls. I see white spots in my vision. My stomach is tight with adrenaline.

Please be wrong. Oh, god, oh, fuck, please be wrong.

Only one toothbrush. Only my toothbrush.

What am I going to do? How will I live? How will I eat?

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