Page 71 of Stalked By the Alphas
“How is she?” he asks before I can say anything.
“Physically recovering. Emotionally... it’s complicated. There is a lot to unpack, not just about this but about us.”
“Yeah, well, we have some news to discuss.”
“Good or bad?” Dread wells up.
“Wasn’t us who blew up the boat. It actually was an engine overheat.”
My blood runs cold. “What?”
“Exactly what I said,” Noah replies, his tone grim. “I’ve had someone looking into it. The boat explosion really was just an accident. Engine overheated, just like they claimed at the time.”
“This changes things,” I say finally.
“Does it?” Noah asks. “We still stalked her, scared her, messed with her life. We’re not innocent here, Carter.”
Frustrated, I snap, “I know that. But this feels different somehow. We didn’t take her parents from her.”
“No, we just planned to,” Zach’s voice echoes down the phone bitterly.
We’re both quiet for a moment, the weight of our past actions hanging heavily between us.
“I’ve also got news. Hazel overheard my parents talking about her years ago, and that was a big push forher to leave us. They said she wasn’t good enough. It played on thoughts she was already having because we, like utter fuckheads, let our families dictate our lives, our futures to us. No fucking more. I’m done. This all ends here.”
Noah grunts. “Shit. That explains a lot.”
“Yeah,” I agree grimly. “We’ve got a lot to make up for.”
“So what’s the plan?” Zach asks.
“For now, we focus on Hazel’s recovery. She needs time and space to heal. We’ll be here if she needs us, but we don’t push.”
“And after that?” Noah presses.
“We come clean,” I say firmly. “About everything. The stalking, the meds, all of it. She deserves the truth.”
“And if she hates us?” Zach’s voice is quiet and vulnerable.
“Then we respect her wishes,” I say, even as the words rip my soul apart. “This isn’t about us anymore. It’s about what’s best for Hazel.”
There’s a long pause before Noah speaks again. “You’re right. We came to the same conclusion.”
A maudlin silence falls over us, and I hang up, needing to get back to Hazel. I head back upstairs with the painkillers and water. Hazel is still curled up under the covers, but I can tell she’s awake.
“I brought you some painkillers,” I say softly.
She emerges slowly, her eyes red-rimmed and puffy but narrowed in my direction. “I told you to fuck off.” But she holds her hands out for them anyway.
I pass them to her gently and hover until there is a loud rapping on the front door that startles Hazel.
“Who is that?” she whispers.
“Wait here,” I say and take the stairs quickly.
When I open the front door a crack, I see an older woman standing on my doorstep, clutching a handbag that seems to hold everything but the kitchen sink.
I eye it warily as she snaps, “Where is she? I know you’ve got her in here. Don’t make me call the police on you.”
