Page 74 of Your Wild Omega

Shock ripples across her face but she smooths it away immediately. “Oh?”

I nod. “The truth is, I haven’t been fair to you. I thought anxiety was something you could just get over, and I got frustrated because it didn’t seem like you were getting better. But the real problem is I didn’t try to understand what you’ve been going through.” Taking her hand, I squeeze it gently. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not listening.”

Tears glint in her eyes, and she covers my fingers with her other hand. “Thank you for saying that, Calli.”

I swallow through a lump in my throat as I trace a line in the stone tabletop. “I had a panic attack myself, and it put things into perspective. Might be the first time in my life I had no control over my body, and I was appalled thinking that must be the same for you.” I sigh and let my chin fall to my chest. “And I’m a real piece of shit for having to experience it myself before acknowledging what you’ve been going through.”

“Oh, Calli.” Pain crackles in her voice as she reaches out to grab my arm. “Are you all right?”

I drop my head onto her hand. “Areyouall right?”

She laughs, the tinkling sound ringing through the quiet night. “Today I’m pretty good because my son took me on a date.”

I shake my head, feeling the press of her faintly wrinkled skin sliding across mine. She won’t always be here waiting for me to grow up. I lift my head to study her. “It’s a bit late, but is it possible to start over? I want to learn what you’ve been going through. If you want to talk about it, that is. I can’t promise I’ll change overnight, but I’m going to try.”

She gets a wicked look in her eye. “Does this mean I can nag you as much as I like?”

I snort. “There are boundaries, Mom.”

She laughs again, and a little of the pressure in my chest eases. “It’s never too late, darling. I’m always here for you. And for this perfect salmon.” She toasts me with a portion on her fork.

I smile and watch as she digs in. Sure, most moms are there for their children, but at some point the role is supposed to switch. I’ve been neglecting that responsibility, and privilege, for way too long.

“I’m glad you’ve got Simon and Lector,” I announce.

She grins. “Me too. They keep me sane.”

“Not sure I believe that.” I wave my fork in her direction. “Simon told me about you guys picnicking in Dad’s office when they were courting you.”

She throws her head back with a laugh. “That was a doozy. They had a gift for getting under Alistair’s skin.” After a small hesitation, she meets my gaze. “It felt like a black hole opened in front of me and sucked me in when we lost him.”

Moths flutter around the golden lamps as we start over from the beginning. I haven’t heard many parts of her story, like how Mom warned Dad he might have a heart attack just two days before it happened, and how she felt like those words somehow cursed him with the real thing. How little things like the scent of vinegar could send her spiraling without warning, and seeing his favorite model of Jeep would make her weep uncontrollably. How it feels when a mate bond fizzes away, and how she knew the moment he left this life, even before his workplace called with the news. How she burned piles of cash, furious that he’d left money instead of himself.

And how the things that used to give her joy all turned gray and lifeless.

Mom bawls and a few tears soak my lashes as we share. I’m not ready to tell Mom everything yet, so I skirt around the topic of my omega, the matter that gave me the first panic attack. But I share my revelations about why I work so much and how I suspect the strange thrills that power me through court may stem from anxiety, even though it barely makes sense to me.

Mom has several exercises for me to try, and it hits me that her years of therapy haven’t been wasted. The fact she can go out to get her nails done and sit down to a meal with me is proof she’s come a long way.

The night deepens and we lose track of time until her partners return, Lector dropping a jacket over Mom’s shoulders and Simon helping himself to the leftovers. We stay out a little longer with a glass of Mom’s favorite chardonnay and time slows once again as the four of us sit watching the city lights spread acrossthe valley. This is what family means, and like a man trying to press fast-forward on his life, I was always running away from it.

But time won’t stop no matter how many revelations I have, and the court cases won’t win themselves—including the trial for Ricky’s ex and the one for the despicable alpha who abused Red.

The trial I can’t possibly win.

And if I can’t win it, that means a rapist will walk free with nothing more than a slap on the wrist. Someone needs to stop him, by any means necessary.

I clear my throat. “Hey, Simon. Any chance you kept the contact details for the thugs Dad sent to hound you that one time?”

Chapter twenty-nine

Callisto

My skin crawls a little as I settle onto a cracked leather stool at the sticky barkeep of the unfamiliar pub. Eighties music blares from the next room, undershot by the crack of billiard balls. Cigarette haze hangs in the air, the patrons clearly ignoring every law on indoor smoking. Probably ignoring most laws.

“You look like you’re the wrong guy in the wrong place,” the barkeep tells me, eyeing me up and down. Although she has to be well over fifty, she sports a tank top and fishnet stockings under tiny leather shorts.

I smile wryly. “But am I in the right place for a beer?”

---