Page 15 of Tying the Knot
She looks away, and it’s all the confirmation I needed. “Well, you can go. They aren’t here now, and I’m great, so buh-bye.” I wave her off dismissively.
She hesitates. But realising that I’m right and there is no point in her being here, she leaves me alone again.
All alone.
Maybe I should have asked her to stay.
Growling with anger and pain, I make a decision.
I can’t stay here. I don’t want to stay here.
I don’t have anywhere else to go except a hotel, but it’ll be better than creeping around this place jumping every time the boiler comes on in case the pack come back. I don’t want to talk to them or think about them. They have destroyed me, and as far as I’m concerned, they can all go to hell. My anger outweighing my heartache now, I march up the stairs to my bedroom.
After a quick shower, I gather up my toiletries and drag a large holdall out of the wardrobe. I pack as many of my casual clothes into it as I can. Jeans, leggings, joggers, tees, and hoodies—several pairs of underwear and socks because who knows when I’ll get to do some laundry. I cram in my flip-flops and another pair of trainers, intending to wear a pair out of the door. I fold my favourite fluffy deep blue blanket and stuff it into the bag, even though it means being unable to close it properly. Then I get dressed in black joggers with a long-sleeved tee and a hoodie. I dig out a black scarf I’ve never worn that came with a matching woollen hat and put those on, followed by two pairs of socks and my trainers. I can only carry so much in the bag, so I need to be savvy about this. Then I root through my drawers for the cheap white sunglasses I bought when I thought I’d lost my Ray-bans at the zoo last summer. I slip them into the front of my hoodie and pick up my bag. I leave all of my jewellery behind, stopping on my way out of the door only for my phone and charger.
Back in the kitchen, I put my coat on and turn to the boiler to turn it off. Then I slip quickly into the utility to flick the electricity off at the fuse box. Waste not, want not.
The house falls into a dark, cold silence, but I don’t stop to dwell on it. I’m on a mission. I pull my phone out as I head back to my bag, which I left at the bottom of the stairs and quickly search for budget hotels in the surrounding area. I won’t find anything here, nor do I want to.
I land on one in Shoreditch that looks okay and is cheap. It’s also far enough away from here that if the pack come back home, they probably won’t think to look for me there or run into me accidentally while going to the shops.
I book an Uber and wait by the door for them to arrive.
Minutes pass, and just as I’m about to explode with anxiety about how long this is taking, there is a loud knock on the door, which makes me jump a mile.
“Shit!” I exclaim and pick up my bag, heading to the door cautiously. I open it a crack to see a delivery driver standing there with a big box.
“Morgan Happs?”
“Yeah?”
“Here, signed for.”
I chew the inside of my lip and sign the PDA he holds out for me. I hand it back, and he hands me the box.
It’s heavier than he made it appear, and I lower it to the floor quickly before it drops out of my hands.
Frowning at it as he disappears, I wonder not only what it is, but who sent it.
At that moment, the Uber arrives, so I pick it up again and dump it on my bag, needing to take it with me in case it’s something from Jeremy. Then I bend down to pick the whole lot up in my arms and carry it out to the waiting taxi.
* * *
Fifty minutes later, after we’ve sat in the morning rush hour for ages, the taxi finally pulls up outside the hotel I’d booked online while I was sitting here doing fuck all. I peer up at it from the pavement, having paid my fare, with my bag and box in my arms, shaking with nerves and second-guessing my decision to leave my home. I’m seconds away from getting back into the taxi to drive me home, but when I turn, he is driving away and doesn’t hear me when I shout for him to stop.
“Dammit!” I yell and look frantically back at the hotel. “Pull yourself together, Morgan,” I mutter. “You can do this. You can’t go back there after what they’ve done. Be strong. Be an adult and move forward.”
It doesn’t work. I’m lost and alone, and it drives it home even more now that I’m here, standing on the pavement outside of a cheap hotel with nothing but a few clothes and a mystery box.
Clenching my jaw tightly, I remember the pills, and I surge forward, a mumble of thanks on my lips as someone holds the door open for me on their way out.
ChapterEleven
Dylan
My feet hitthe icy pavement with a steady beat on my morning jog around the area. It’s freezing this morning, and I pull my beanie down a bit further over my ears.
I pull up, a cloud of condensation forming when I let out a huff and bend over to catch my breath. I’ve gone further than usual today, but I needed to run off the tension that has been building since we arrested the Happs’s and collided with Morgan Happs in the process. I straighten up and blink, thinking I’m seeing things as I think about the beautiful blonde omega who is as untouchable as they come. Squinting in the bright, low sunlight to get a better look, I edge closer.
