Page 88 of Found by the Pack
Boone stares, chest rising and falling like he’s holding back an explosion. “You—” He shakes his head, pacing once across my living room. “Do you hear yourself? You think this is about you? About your feelings? She’s not a goddamn bone to throw between us, Gabe. She’s an Omega who’s been through hell. Last night was important because it was the first time she sat at a table with us and wasn’t looking over her shoulder. The firsttime she laughed without flinching. And you—” His voice cracks with rage. “You sat there sulking like a jealous asshole.”
I flinch, but I deserve it.
“I wasn’t sulking,” I mutter, though the words are weak even to my ears.
“Bullshit!” Boone roars, slamming a hand against the back of my couch. “You think I didn’t see her shrink when you went quiet? You think she didn’t feel it? You made her doubt herself. You—” He cuts himself off, breath ragged, fists clenched. “Don’t you think making her welcome should have taken precedence over whatever the hell was going on in your head?”
The guilt is acid in my gut. I know what I should say—yes, he’s right, I screwed up. But pride keeps me standing there, jaw locked. “I didn’t mean to make her feel that way,” I say instead.
Boone’s eyes narrow. “Doesn’t matter what you meant. What matters is what you did.”
I push off the door, squaring up to him. “You don’t get it.”
“Then explain it,” he snaps.
I drag in a breath, the words tumbling out before I can stop them. “The dynamic’s changed, Boone. Since she got here, everything’s changed. The way Shepard looks at her, the way you light up around her. And me—fuck, I can’t look at her without remembering what it felt like to want someone I couldn’t have. And you know what? I hate myself for it. But don’t stand here and act like it’s so simple.”
Boone stares at me like he doesn’t recognize me. “Simple? Nothing about this is simple. But I’ll tell you what’s not complicated: don’t be a dick to her. Don’t make her feel like she’s done something wrong just because you can’t get your shit straight.”
The words cut deep because they’re true.
I rake a hand through my hair, chest heaving. “You don’t understand?—”
“No, you don’t!” Boone slams a fist onto the counter, rattling the dishes in the sink. His voice drops, low and lethal. “Don’t you dare get involved with her if you’re not serious. Don’t you dare. She’s not some distraction you can dip into when you’re lonely. She deserves more than that.”
“I know that!” I shout back, louder than I meant, throat raw. “I know. You think I don’t know she’s been hurt enough already? You think I don’t see the way she carries herself, like she’s waiting for someone to break her again? That’s why I—” My voice cracks, traitorous. “That’s why I stayed quiet. Because you’re right. She deserves someone who can give her what she needs. And maybe that’s you. Maybe it’s not me. But don’t you fucking stand there and act like I don’t care.”
For a moment, neither of us moves. His eyes bore into mine, chest heaving, his anger vibrating in the air between us.
And then, without warning, he shakes his head, disgust curling his lip. “You’re pathetic,” he mutters.
Something in me snaps. “Better pathetic than reckless,” I bite back. “You think this is some fairy tale? You think kissing her, cooking her dinner, that suddenly fixes years of damage? She’s fragile, Boone. More fragile than you even realize. And if you screw this up, it’ll crush her.”
His nostrils flare. “And you think I don’t know that? You think I’d take a single step toward her if I wasn’t serious?” He points at me, fury blazing. “You don’t get to project your failures onto me.”
The words hang heavy.My failures.
Sawyer. The ghost that follows me home.
My throat tightens, but I don’t answer.
Boone shakes his head once, sharp. “I can’t even look at you right now.” He storms toward the door, yanking it open so hard it hits the wall. He doesn’t slam it behind him, though. He leaves it gaping, cold air rushing in.
I sink onto the couch, chest hollow, stomach twisted.
The fight still rings in my ears, louder than any siren, louder than any fire crackling in the night. We’ve fought before—brothers always do. But never like this. Never with something real and fragile between us.
And the worst part? He’s right.
I rub a hand over my face, trying to steady my breath, but it doesn’t help. Because all I can think is how Sadie might see me now—if she’ll catch the residue of my bitterness, mistake it for judgment, think she’s done something wrong.
I don’t want that. God, I don’t want that. But I can’t take back what’s already out in the open.
The silence in my apartment feels like punishment. Every time I move, the echo of Boone’s voice is still there, ringing in my ears—his words sharper than any blade.
Pathetic. Reckless. Don’t be a dick to her.
I’ve heard plenty of people yell at me in my life. I’ve pissed off superiors, been cussed out by rookies who thought they knew better, even got into my fair share of brawls in bars back when I was younger and dumber.
