Page 13 of Give Me You
Emilio
Waiting by the bedroom door, my breathing comes a little faster. I slept good, dead to the world, probably better than I have in weeks but that doesn’t take away the fact that I still have to get out of this apartment and back toAurum Pulse.
Murmurs drift from the kitchen just outside, low voices that I can't quite make out, no doubt the brothers talking about work or any of the other hundred things that don’t include me. Which is perfect. We don’t need to talk about last night or when it happened again early this morning.
I school my expression, forcing my face into something neutral even though my insides are churning with anxiety. A quick shower helped wash away the physical evidence of last night, but it didn't do anything to settle the panic building in my chest. My skin even still feels tender and oversensitive, reminding me of everything that happened.
It didn’t mean anything,I tell myself for the umpteenth time but that doesn’t help much. My body is already asking for a repeat and my Omega is yearning for a bit more touch than last week. I slip my phone from the pocket of my shorts, my heart sinking with each notification that pops up on the cracked screen.
Shit.
More than one person sent me pictures of myself looking dazed and stumbling into the VIP area. In the photos, my eyes are unfocused, my mouth slack, my whole body leaning heavily against the wall like I can barely stand. I look exactly like what everyone will assume I am, a sloppy Omega who can't handle his own club, who got high on his own supply or couldn't resist sampling the party drugs that flow through the VIP section every night. The images make my stomach turn, bile rising in my throat.
And then there’s a few messages from Otto asking if I’m okay. Each one more worried than the last until one just before midnight where apparently he had contacted Akira. Lovely.
I shoot him a quick message, asking him to come get me and letting him know that I’m fine. The simple ‘ok’ I receive tells me that Otto is going to have a load of things to tell me, none of them I want to hear.
And then there’s the message from Zaden. I almost don’t open it but then it would just annoy me for the rest of the day. Sighing, I press the message and grimace at the several skull emojis littering my screen. No words, no fake concern, just those skullslined up in a neat little row. Like he's celebrating my death, or at least the death of my reputation.
The bastard is probably spinning a narrative about his poor pregnant brother who's spiraling out of control, who needs someone stable to step in and take over before he destroys everything our parents built.
A few missed calls, all from people who’ve probably been fed those stories–Charles and Neon Dreams amongst the most worrying.
Part of me wants to delete all of the messages and calls and voicemails, pretend none of this is happening. But I can't. I have to face this. I have to fix this somehow.
I huff out a breath, trying to steady myself, and then step out into the kitchen. Both Liam and Akira stop talking the moment they see me. Liam is leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, while Akira stands near the stove with a coffee mug in his hand. The air in the kitchen smells like coffee and toast, normal domestic things that feel completely at odds with the chaos swirling in my head.
I throw them a small smile, hoping it doesn't look as fake as it feels. "I need to go home now. Otto is already downstairs."
Akira snarls, his mug hitting the counter with more force than necessary, coffee sloshing over the rim. "Sit, Emilio."
The command in his voice makes my spine stiffen, rebellion flaring hot in my chest. Nobody tells me what to do. Not after I've worked this hard to build my independence. "You're not my Alpha and you can't tell me what to do."
Akira's jaw tightens, his hands clenching into fists on the counter. A muscle ticks in his cheek, and I can see him fighting to control his temper. "No, but you're about to walk into something you don't understand. So please, for the love of god, sit and listen to Liam's idea, okay?"
Something in his tone makes me pause. It's not just anger or frustration. There's genuine concern there, maybe even fear. The way his eyes lock on mine tells me this is serious. I slowly move to the table and sit, my body protesting the movement.
Liam passes me a small plate of toast and eggs, setting it down in front of me with a gentle touch that contrasts sharply with Akira's intensity. The food looks good, the eggs perfectly scrambled with a sprinkle of cheese on top, the toast golden brown with butter melting into it. But I'm not sure I could keep anything down. I even contemplate telling them both that I’m not hungry, that I really do need to get to the doctor and then fix the mess of what happened last night. Every minute I waste here is a minute I could be using to salvage my reputation. But Liam starts talking before I can get the words out.
"Akira spoke with Otto last night, and we did again this morning to figure out what was going on. It seems a few pictures are circulating from last night, ones that Zaden most likely manufactured."
"I've seen the pictures, okay?" I say, my voice coming out sharper than I intend, the defensiveness in my tone automatic. "I look like a wreck. Just a sloppy Omega in need of a good fuck, okay?"
Liam shakes his head, his expression darkening as he exchanges a look with Akira that I can't quite read. "It's bigger than that. Otto called us this morning saying that we're no longer allowed atAurum Pulseafter tonight because the owner has a drug problem. The investors are not comfortable with…"
I hold up my hand, cutting him off. The panic that was simmering in my chest explodes into full-blown terror, threatening to suffocate me. They banned Akira and Liam from the club?Myclub. Because ofme. Because of what happened last night. This is exactly what I was afraid of, exactly what I've been trying to prevent. Everything is falling apart, crumblingfaster than I can keep up with. "No. I'm going to fix this, okay? You'll get your place back at my club, and Zaden won't get hold of it. I just…"
The words trail off as I realize there's a bigger problem. The problem I made for myself earlier yesterday about having an Alpha and producing him in a week. Charles's threat echoes in my mind, the way he said he'd put things to a vote if I showed up empty-handed. He was so certain that I'd fail.
And now I've given them even more ammunition, more reasons to doubt me, more proof that I'm exactly what they think I am. An irresponsible Omega who can't handle the pressure of running a business. I swallow nervously, turning my attention to my plate and start picking at the toast, tearing off small pieces that I don't eat, just crumbling them between my fingers until they're nothing but crumbs.
"I appreciate your help but I got this," I say, forcing confidence into my voice that I don't remotely have right now. "I'm just going to tell the truth. Right after I get to my doctor. And no, you can't take me. It'll look worse because they think you're supplying me drugs."
Liam sighs helplessly, the sound heavy with frustration and something that might be resignation. He knows I'm being stubborn, knows I'm probably making this harder on myself than it needs to be. But he doesn't argue. He just points to the couch in the living room. "I washed your clothes. Thought it might be a bit more comfortable than wearing ours out of here."
I wasn't expecting that kind of consideration, especially not after everything that happened. Most people would have just thrown my clothes in a corner and forgotten about them. I manage a smile, this one a little more genuine than the last. "Thank you."
Pushing the plate away, I stand and walk over to the couch before stripping right there in front of them, too focused ongetting out of here to care about modesty. I've been mostly naked in front of both of them already. There's no point in being shy now.
