Page 70 of Knot My MC
After I finish nursing my coffee, I head back into the nest to clean up but stumble to a stop when I see the shelf on the far wall. I hadn’t noticed it yesterday.
“What the hell,” I mumble to myself as I wander closer. The beanie I’d lost—my favorite beanie—is lying next to the necklace I’d lost. Scrunching my eyebrows together, I take it all in. I had lost so many things over the years, and I’d written it off as me being careless. I’d thought the washing machine at home had somehow eaten my underwear. Turns out the guys are a bunch of rotten thieves. A flutter of annoyance simmers inside of me. They could have left a note or something. But I quickly shove that aside.
They told me why they never reached out to me, and while I don’t particularly like that they left me in the dark for so long, I get why they did. I can either choose to continue getting pissed at them, or I can let it go. Hanging out with them at the pond the other day was amazing, and I’m not ashamed to admit that I more than enjoyed being claimed this morning. I’ve spent enough time being angry. For now, I want to be happy.
I grab the necklace and put it on, then gather some of the dirty linens to start the process of preparing the nest for my next heat. Keeping myself busy will help me avoid thinking about things that make me sad. Taking a shower and finding clothes that are comfortable for a lazy day distract me for a little while. I grabbed a handful of outfits when we stopped by the house. Shorts, jeans, various tops, and my favorite—leggings. I tug a navy blue pair on and grab my longer cream colored t-shirt. Some might say leggings aren’t real pants. Some are stupid assholes.
I braid my hair and play some music from the laptop Knox told me I could borrow. The lead singer of the band screams and shouts through the song. His voice is loud enough to drown out my own thoughts. It’s perfect. After I brush my teeth, I grab the laptop and make myself at home in the oversize chair next to the couch.
The stack of cash is still sitting on the coffee table. I smile. It was a strangely sweet but also incredibly stupid gesture. Even so, I respect their willingness to give me the choice. They don’t get extra points for doing the bare minimum, but they’re so much better than Axel.
Crossing my legs, I heave out a breath and stare at the screen. Social media isn’t going to help me stay positive. I guess that means I’m logging into my favorite interactive site. The computer whirs as I type in the address and hit enter. I usually play on my phone, but there’s no way I’m going to ask Axel for it. The guys are getting me a new one anyway. Hearts and deep violets and pinks bloom across the webpage. An animated woman appears and asks if I’d like to start where I last left off.
“Time to see if Tonya can get it on with the orc.” The images shift, moving me from the home screen into the cute coffee shop scenario. Tonya is sitting at a table with a coffee cup, animated steam swirls above her mug.
The bell dings and Draven, the orc, struts through the door. His character is buff and drawn to look more human than others, but it’s passable. I haven’t found a good interactive app that really captures monsters in their drawings. Tonya gasps and the screen pops up with a prompt.
>Stay and chat with the orc.
>Run away.
I’m not really sure who would choose to run away, but I guess some people like to draw out that tension before they finally hook up. I realize that online smut games being my idea of a good time might be unusual, but we all have our vices. Tonya and Draven flirt over coffee, but the stupid story forces another woman into the mix. The screen pops up with prompts for Draven.
>Say hi and chat.
>Get up from Tonya’s table to carry on the new conversation.
“Fuck you,” I mutter, snapping the laptop shut without closing the site. They ruined a perfectly good story with that shit. I guarantee Tonya is going to be mad about either option and then a whole spiral of miscommunication lines will ensue until I can actually get the two of them into bed. I’ve been a little sensitive to miscommunication ever since what happened with the guys. They’ve been nothing but honest now, and I love them all the more for it.
Love?
I loved them back then, but is one heat enough to rekindle those feelings? Had the feelings ever truly left? I don’t think so. Part of me held onto that love, saving it in hopes of them coming back.
Drumming my fingers on the computer, I glance around the apartment. I could watch a show but I’m not in the mood. Maybe I can eat again?
I set the laptop aside and trudge into the kitchen, searching through my options. Red licorice. Disgusting. Vegetable chips. Who the hell bought those? Milk chocolate. Ugh. There isn’t even a tiny square of dark chocolate anywhere in the pantry. If I had my phone, I’d place a grocery order and get good snacks, but alas, Axel strikes again.
Fucker.
Thinking of Axel instantly brings my mind back to dad. I’ve been trying hard not to go there. I need some space from my grief, if only for a bit. I’m not going to deny it completely, but it won’t consume me today like it had a few days ago. The only option left that will truly distract me is venturing out of the apartment. The guys didn’t tell me to stay put, and even if they did, I wouldn’t listen to them.
I’m allowed to explore and do what I want and I don’t need permission for that—well, I would if they had used their alpha bark on me, but they didn’t. I pull on my shoes and ease the heavy front door open. I’m pretty sure it’s solid steel. The safety measure isn’t unusual given what the guys do. MC life can be deadly.
It’s a little after two in the afternoon, so there’s some activity in the main part of the clubhouse. Voices and laughter filter down the hall, chased by a rift from a guitar of a familiar heavy rock song. Pool balls clack together. Lingering near the safety of the apartment for a few seconds, I take a few steadying breaths.
I’m about to walk into a room full of rivals. Technically I’m a Hound now, but I was a Wrecker for so long. I would be wary of me.
Show no fear.Dad’s reminder echoes through my head.
Nope. Can’t think about him. Marching down the hall, I all but run away from the way my thoughts want to spiral. There isn’t a dramatic record screech when I enter the room. In fact, the people standing around the bar and pool tables don’t immediately notice me. I’m not spotted until a beta female older than me struts to the electric jukebox on the wall next to me. The people she left behind continue their conversations and games.
Her brown eyes are scrutinizing and her lips purse as she takes me in. She doesn’t miss a step though, continuing on her intended path until she stops a few feet away from where I stand. She taps on the screen, glancing at me with a raised eyebrow.
“Are you going to stand and stare all day?”
“I haven’t decided.”
She smiles a little at my honesty. “So you’re the omega.” She keeps her voice low and selects a few songs. Her hair is done in long, thick box braids that stop at the middle of her back, and the leather pants she’s wearing contrasts nicely with her bright red top. She’s too put together to be a groupie. Too aware.
