Page 28 of Mated To The King's Gamma
“Dustin has some documents you will want to see, too. We got Alpha Brock and Dean. They have been trafficking rogues for years,” Damian says before turning to glance at Gannon and give him a subtle nod. Gannon walks over to escort Tandi and me inside the castle.
12
WEEKS LATER
Ever since Tandi came back and we learned the horrors she endured after she was removed from the orphanage, Abbie seems to have some form of survivor’s guilt; she has been working herself to the bone daily. Taking Tyson with her everywhere she goes. Helping Tandi with settling into the castle, she hasn’t been sleeping and is always cleaning.
Abbie and I constantly fight over Tyson and her working so much as I try to understand what is going on with her. Then one day, she snaps. She told me it was her fault Tandi got in trouble that day, that if she hadn’t asked Tandi to defend Azalea, she would never have ended up in the brothel. She never would have been sent away for breaking a vase she didn’t break. Despite her unreasonable thoughts, she solely believes she is responsible for what happened to Tandi. Even after Tandi told her multiple times, it would have been that way anyway, that no matter what happened that day, she would have ended up there.
Tandi has told her Alpha Brock had always intended to sell her off. Abbie, however, refused to believe her, and I know her hearing the stories of Tandi’s sufferings has brought back memories of her own. She hardly sleeps, and I was forced to drug her a couple of times just to make her sleep because she is becoming increasingly unstable, her mind more fragile with each passing day. Her thought pattern is toxic and her erratic behavior is beginning to worry me.
I want to tell Azalea and the king. I also know they have a lot going on themselves and no one else seems to notice the change in her, except Liam and me. It’s like she puts on a show for everyone, pretending to be holding herself together. I have always known sooner or later she would break after she came back from Kade, I just didn’t think it would be guilt for another she broke over.
I thought she needed time to heal, but I’m wondering if she needs professional help. Help that I can’t give her because as the days slip by she seems to live by repetition as if she is on autopilot.
“Abbie, you promised he would sleep in his room tonight,” I tell her as she tucks Tyson into bed. Our bed.
She promises the same thing every night. The few times she did put him in his bed, she paced the halls or waited for me to fall asleep before sneaking into his room so she could be near him. A few times I even awoke to her laying by the fireplace with him or on the couch. The more I push, the more distant she seems to become, the more unstable.
I’m getting nowhere with her it seems, and it’s starting to piss me off because it is as if she isn’t even trying, I have become a piece of the furniture in her existence, just someone who is always there. Kind of like Tyson’s comfort blanket. He always has it, can’t go without but at the same time doesn’t want it, especially when he gets tangled up in it.
“Tomorrow night, I promise,” she tells me. But tomorrow never seems to come.
“You promised yesterday,” I tell her, but she shakes her head.
“No, I didn’t,” she says, her brows furrowed in confusion. That is another thing I notice. She seems to be having memory lapses and losing time. I often wonder where her mind takes her, but at the same time, I also don’t want to know because I can tell wherever it is, it haunts her.
“Abbie, his own room, I want to sleep with my mate. I am sick of being kicked,” I tell her, reaching for him. She rips the blanket back up that I pulled away. I toss my arms up in the air, becoming fed up.
“No, he stays. What if someone takes him, or what if he wanders off?” she tries to tell me. I’m so sick of the excuses. There isn’t an excuse she hasn’t given me.
“No, Abbie. You know he can’t get out, this place is secured, and Liam and Dustin and every other guard know to watch him and keep an eye out for him. He is perfectly safe,” I remind her, and she watches me as I scoop him up. The look on her face makes me growl before setting him back down when I see her lips quivering and her fearful look.
“I am over this shit, every goddamn night with you!” I tell her before storming off and out of the room. She won’t sleep in the bed unless he is in it, and it is driving me up the wall. I have never done anything to warrant her fear of me when it comes to the damn bedroom. She knows I would never force her to do anything she isn’t comfortable with, yet still, she fears me sleeping beside her.
“Gannon? Wait! Where are you going?” she panics as I reach for the door; at the same time, she grabs my arm. I shake her hand off, pushing the door open.
“I need to go; I will come back later. Just leave me be, Abbie,” I tell her, knowing if I stay, I will say something I will surely regret. Instead, I go find Liam, needing to vent my frustrations because right now, I’m at my wits’ end with her.
I barely get my hand up to knock before Liam’s door swings open. He stands there shirtless, his pants half-unbuttoned, and his hair looks like he’s been in a fight—or a tornado.
“Why the fuck do you look like someone just pissed in your whiskey?” Liam demands, squinting at me like I’m an unsolved mystery.
I exhale sharply, pushing past him into his room. “I can’t do this shit anymore, Liam.”
“Oh gods, here we go.” Liam groans, dragging a hand down his face before slamming the door shut. “You stormed out, didn’t you? Dumbass.”
“She won’t let me in!” I snap, pacing the room. “She won’t let me sleep in the same bed with her, won’t let me be close to her, she treats me like a damn ghost, and every time I try to talk to her, she just?—”
“Pretends like nothing’s wrong until you finally lose your shit and run straight to me, your poor, beautiful, tormented best friend?” Liam finishes, throwing himself onto his couch like some tragic poet. “I swear, brother, if I had a gold coin for every time you walked through that door bitching about your mate, I’d buy my own castle and fill it with strippers.”
“You hate strippers.”
“I hate bad strippers.” He shrugs. “Anyway, you need a drink. And lucky for you, I keep a bottle for when you inevitably have a mental breakdown over Abbie.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Liam?—”
“Shh.” He holds up a hand. “Let Uncle Liam fix you a botbot.”
