I’ve sat here so long, drowning in my own misery that I don’t realize that the sky is starting to get darker and the street lights are kicking on. Turning on the car, I back out of the parking spot and head home. I don’t want Benton and my parents to worry about me more than they already do.
The drive home doesn’t calm me, just makes my nerves worse. I’m going to have to tell my parents what happened. But when I pull into my driveway, the air freezes in my lungs.
Standing on my front lawn are three silhouettes under the porch light. They each turn when my headlights flash on them.
Lincoln, Milton, and Korbin.
All three of them. Waiting. Shoulders squared, eyes sharp, expressions torn between fear and fury and something achingly protective.
I think about running. But I don’t. Instead, I get out and start walking toward them.
Lincoln steps forward first, signing,Are you okay?
Milton’s holding a bag of takeout like he’s prepared to sit on my steps all night, waiting for me. Korbin doesn’t move, but his jaw flexes hard when he sees my red eyes.
I don’t know what to do. Sprint past them and lock myself in the house? Turn around and rush back to my car and leave? Apologize? That last one I’m not sure about, because I’ve done nothing wrong. They did.
But then Lincoln says the words, “Don’t shut us out.”
I don’t know why, but something inside me cracks wide open.
All I can do is stand frozen on the walkway, heart pounding, tears slipping down my cheeks, while the three men I thought I'd lost don’t appear like they’re leaving.
41
Bayleigh
Milton handsthe bag of food to Korbin, his athletic frame relaxed, sandy-blond hair curling slightly at the ends as he steps toward me. My heart feels as if it’s about to burst from my chest.
“Bayleigh. Why haven’t you been answering our messages?” he asks, eyes calm as he reaches out to me with steady hands, taking mine in his.
Lincoln stands to his side, just in my line of sight, and tries his hardest to sign what Milton’s saying. He’s getting bits and pieces, less than he probably thinks he is. He’s gone through all that trouble to learn, just to toss me to the side for some perfect omega.
Korbin holds still, every line of his tall, powerful body coiled tight, dark eyes watching the space around me like he’s expecting a threat to crawl out of the shadows—and like he’s already chosen who he’ll kill first. It’s what I don’t get.
I rip my hands from him and furiously sign, because they’re not worthy of my words. Of my voice.
Figured you were busy with your meeting.
“Bayleigh. I don’t understand what you’re saying. Lincoln, do you know what she’s saying?” Milton makes sure not to turn his head, ensuring that I can see every word he’s saying.
Lincoln steps forward, and my eyes shift over to him.
“I didn’t catch it all. Something about being busy. I don’t know,” Lincoln says, his eyes full of emotion as he speaks, making sure to enunciate each word.
He got one part of it right. Busy.
“Please, Bayleigh, Baby, talk, type it, just tell us what happened today. Why are you ignoring our messages? Why does it look like you’ve been crying for hours?” Milton says, grabbing my hands again.
I shake my head, pain coursing through me.
“Nuh-uh, Baby. You’re not going anywhere until we straighten out whatever has you upset with us.” Milton’s lips press together after he speaks.
Lincoln reaches out, covering both our hands with his, and I shift my gaze to him.
“She can’t type if you’re holding her hands. Let her go so we can figure this shit out.” Lincoln pulls his hands back and waits for Milton to do the same. He’s reluctant but does it. Milton pulls his phone from his pocket, holding it out to me.
Reluctantly, I take the phone from him, opening his messages and begin typing furiously.
