Page 82 of Cost of Courting

“You have no idea about the real world. All you do is work in a bar and help these poor people here. You don’t want to get out of here, you don’t have ambition. How can we ever leave here if you give everything to everyone else?”

I press my lips together to stop any words from escaping.

“I know what I want, and I’m going after it.”

I pull out a chair, grab the potato peeler and potatoes, and start peeling. “What are you going after?”

“The pack.”

I know she doesn’t mean it, but I can’t stop myself from responding.

I slam a potato down and yank my shirt away from my collar. “They are mine. You stay away from them, and, while we’re talking about you being so grown up, why the hell are you hanging around Benson again?”

Luna lifts her chin defiantly. “I can talk to my ex.” But her eyes are focused on the bond mark on my neck.

I grind my molars. “Luna, for fuck's sake, please don’t do this again. You don’t know what it took to clean up that mess.”

“Oh, I see, so all I do is cause a mess that you have to clean up?”

I let out a fierce hiss. But it doesn’t affect her at all. She’s not listening. She’s filled with righteous anger, and she’s got no intention of hearing me out.

“I’m not saying that! Will you just listen to me for once-”

“Yeah, because all you do is give orders! You don’t ever talk to me, you and all your damn secrets. But not everything is about you.”

My snarl goes unnoticed.

She takes out a container from the fridge, opens the lid, sniffs, and then tosses the whole thing in the sink.

“What are you doing?” I snarl and lunge for it. I only made it yesterday.

“It’s old. I want something different to eat. We always have the same.”

I pull the ruined container of food out of the sink, half the food remains. I scoop it back into the container, but it’s no good, it’s ruined.

She’s already gone by the time I turn around, and I’m left with the helpless feeling that no matter what I do, I keep fucking things up.

Maybe I should lay out the truth for her. All of it. But then she would have to live with the fear, the uncertainty, the way I do. That veil of safety she has so much confidence in would be ripped away. Nowhere is safe. No oneis safe.

How can I do that to her? She’s already lost so much and lived so much hardship. It hasn’t been easy growing up in this neighbourhood. If I can preserve that innocence for a little bit longer, isn’t that an obligation that only I can provide? After all, since Dad died, I have practically raised her.

I’ve managed the bills, the food, the rent. She doesn’t have to worry about any of that. Maybe I spoil her, maybe I allow her too much freedom. Maybe I should give her some of the responsibilities.

The bolognaise sauce drips down my fingers and into the sink. I turn on the water and meticulously clean them.

My thoughts turn back to Mael. Is he protecting me in the same way I protect my sister? If he is, I don’t like it. He should know I can take care of myself.

Haven’t I proven it over and over again?

I think about those scars I’ve seen on his body, peeking out of his tops.

Someone hurt Mael.

The thought burns inside me, growing and growing with a rage that I can’t seem to control at all.

Who hurt my alpha?

On autopilot, I go through the motions of getting ready. When I’ve got my boots on and my wet hair is plaited, I slip out the back and through the fence into Dot’s yard. I don’t go and alert her, I just slip through the side of her fence and cross the road, jogging down the backstreets and out of this neighbourhood.

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