Page 13 of Knot So Sweet
At least, I hope to God they're not.
“You have nothing to worry about. Get some rest. Monday we'll figure out your car situation."
I nod, not trusting my voice. The door closes behind her with a soft click, and I'm alone with the knowledge that three alphas could walk through that door anytime they wanted.
And there's not a damn thing I can do about it except pray Meredith's judgment is better than mine has ever been.
“What do I do until Monday?” I ask, more myself than her. Everyone says Monday, it’s only Friday night.
“Well, you can watch TV, go for a walk, do what you like?”
I nod my head, because I feel stupid asking a grown woman what I should do with myself until Monday.
After she leaves, I stand in the middle of the apartment and just breathe. The silence is overwhelming after days of highway noise and the constant hum of anxiety.
I'm safe. For now, at least.
My duffel bag rests on the floor where I dropped it, everything I own crammed into one worn canvas bag. Three changes of clothes, some underwear, a few personal items I grabbed in my ten-minute escape window.
Not much to show for twenty-six years on earth.
The first thing I do is examine the locks. The door has a deadbolt and a chain, both functional. The windows lock too, though they're high enough anyone trying to get in would have to work for it.
Old habits. Even if the baker doesn't live here, I'm not taking any chances.
The shower calls to me like a siren song. I haven't had hot water since I left California, and the thought of being truly clean makes me almost dizzy with want.
I secure the bathroom door. Another old habit. And turn the water as hot as I can stand. The steam fogs the mirror, erasing my reflection, and I'm grateful not to see what three days of sleeping in a car have done to my face.
The hot water hits my skin like a benediction. I stand under the spray and let it wash away the road grime, the fear-sweat, the lingering scent of Mark's cologne I swear I can still smell on my clothes sometimes.
I shampoo my hair twice, work conditioner through the tangles, scrub my skin until it's pink and clean. The motel soapsmells like nothing special, but it's clean and functional and mine to use without asking permission.
When I finally emerge, wrapped in a towel worn but soft, I feel more human than I have in days.
But as I get dressed in fresh clothes, jeans and a sweater which don't smell like car exhaust, the exhaustion hits me like a freight train. My hands shake as I brush my teeth with a toothbrush having seen better days, and I have to grip the sink to keep from swaying.
I need sleep. Real sleep, in a real bed, for the first time in days.
But as I look at the bed, queen-sized, with clean sheets and what looks like an actual down comforter, the anxiety creeps back in.
I'm in a building with three alpha males. Three alpha males who know exactly where I am, who could decide at any moment the stranger in their midst is more trouble than she's worth.
Especially Garrick. The baker with his attitude problem and the scent making my omega hindbrain sit up and take notice despite my better judgment. He made it clear this morning he doesn't want me here, and now Meredith has basically forced him to house me.
What if he decides to come upstairs? What if any of them do?
I check the door bolts again. Test the chain. The deadbolt feels solid, but it's not like it would stop a determined alpha.
Nothing truly stops a determined alpha.
I sit on the edge of the bed, my damp hair dripping onto my shoulders, and try to talk myself down from the spiral of panic threatening to take hold.
They seem decent. Meredith vouches for them. The vet, Liam, has kind eyes, and even Xaden, for all his slick charm, didn't try to touch me or crowd my space.
And Garrick…gave me food. He made sure the soup was hot and the bread was fresh. It has to count for something.
But Mark seemed decent too, at first. Charming and attentive and everything a girl dreams of in a boyfriend. It wasn't until after we moved in together the real him started to emerge.
