Her breathing stutters as my thumb drops, barely brushing against her mouth.I could—
The wry, amused cough shatters our fragile space. Kenny skitters back, still a furious red as she tries to tame a wild curl by tucking it behind her ear. My hand is left hovering in mid-air before I snatch it back, my own cheeks heating.
Max is grinning as he looks between us. “Not interrupting, are we? Room for a few more?”
I push my tongue into my cheek to hold in my retort as he almost skips over to Kenny, wrapping his arms around her and tucking her perfectly beneath his chin. He waggles his eyebrows at me over her head, and my eyes narrow at the laughter dancing in them. “What’d we miss?”
“Nothing much,” she mumbles into him. But I watch as she presses her cheek against his t-shirt. Max visibly softens, as if having her near is enough to smooth out any rough edges. His hand hovers uncertainly, before it flattens on her back.
Nothing much. Except that I think… I’m a little bit gone for Kenny Traylor.
In a big, possibly life-altering way.
I glance around. Jake and Oscar are watching her too, Oscar finally pulling himself away from his books as he watches her closely. I’ve never seen him look at someone that way. As if she matters. And certainly not in the last two years.
Maybe we’re all a little gone for Kenny Traylor.
Day 22 – Theo
Abramsgivesmeawide berth as he shifts past me. I don’t blame him. I’ve heard the whispers about me.
The scruffy, snarling alpha that stalks the halls of the Center but refuses to see his own omega.
I haven’t looked at Kenny in twenty-two days. My fingers slowly curl into fists.
“You good?” Oscar’s murmur nearly has me stepping back, instinct pushing me togo. “There’s a chair here.”
I don’t deserve to be here. Don’t deserve a fucking chair at her bedside.
When I shift back, Jake is blocking my way. His words are a gruff mutter. “Sit down.”
I don’t look at him. “I shouldn’t be in here.”
I’ll never leave her again. Not willingly. Close, but never close enough. My own personal penance.
“She needs you.” His voice hardens. “Kenny needs you, and she needs you functioning. So sit the fuck down. We need to talk about this as a pack.”
My jaw works, but I nod. My eyes slide to her as I perch on the seat.
They stole the sunshine from her skin.
That perfect shade of gold, as if the light poured from her – it’s faded and sallow now. Her breathing is lighter than the air around us that weighs me down, her chest barely moving. Even her hair seems faded, tangled and limp against the crisp white pillow raising her head.
She doesn’t look like a threat. Not until I look down.
“I know.” Oscar’s eyes meet mine over her restraints. “They won’t take them off.”
Dangerous.
My fingers move to the straps. Testing them, as my lips press together. They don’t move, locking her wrists in place against the railings. Her ankles.
Even herneck.
“So,” Oscar says quietly. Max settles beside me, pulling up another chair as Jake does the same across from us. “What do we do?”
Our eyes all lower to our silent, broken mate.
Max breaks the silence. “It’s obvious, isn’t it? Wehaveto try. I don’t see what there is to even talk about.”
