All it’ll take when I feel like this is for one person to walk behind me, and I could spiral into another panic attack. My anxiety is a lying ho, telling me everyone is out to get me.
I check my phone once more, hoping for a text from Addie, deflating when I see there isn’t one. It’s simply one more strike against me. I feel like she’s going to forget I exist, which is silly, right?
Leaving my phone in my room so I won’t obsessively check it, I head downstairs to eat. My stomach is grumbling since I haven’t had anything else to eat other than the toast this morning.
“I’m starving,” I groan, walking into the kitchen to sit down with my dad.
“That place is so fucking shady,” he mutters. “Who doesn’t properly onboard their employees? I know you were excited.”
“It feels as if they were using me for free work,” I sigh, pulling my plate closer to me. “Jonna, the store owner, kept getting on me about what I was doing. Yet, I had absolutely no direction. I deleted all the work that I did from the shared gallery she set up, but she locked me out of everything else.”
“My daughter is petty,” Dad chuckles. “I don’t know why they thought they could take advantage of you.”
“I was trying to be helpful,” I mutter, taking a bite of my pizza.
“There’s a difference between being helpful and a doormat,” he says. “It may be too soon to ask, but what are you going to do next?”
“I have no idea. Lick my wounds? My pride is hurt. I actually thought I’d landed a great job.”
“The world will want to use your talent and spit you out,” Dad growls. He’s the only alpha I don’t have an issue with yelling or growling. It scares the shit out of me when others do it. “It’s not a bad idea to work somewhere you know that won’t happen.”
“This feels like a trap,” I snort. “You’re the only person who I trust not to fuck me over.”
“Those are unfortunate words,” he says, rolling his eyes. “If I could wrap you up in bubble wrap forever, I absolutely would. I will never apologize for that. You’re an adult, but also mine to protect for as long as you let me.”
“I know. I love you too. I’m going to go to bed early, check out jobs listed tomorrow online, and go back to the drawing board. I didn’t expect to be grifted on my first day in the real world,” I grumble.
“Fucking assholes,” he agrees. “Do you want to talk about what happened at the rink?”
“My stupid panic attack?” I ask, finishing a slice of pizza. I’m still hungry, but my stomach is twisting itself into knots. I’ll be fine for now.
“It’s not stupid if you can’t breathe and cry,” Dad says. “You were almost enjoying practice.”
“Almost,” I admit. “I love the game and hate the players. It’s ridiculous. I have a really hard time figuring out where that leaves me. Is this where you remind me that I need therapy?”
“Sometimes the wrong therapist can do more harm than good,” he shrugs. “I went to one to work on my anger, and realized my emotions had nothing to do with my inability at the time to get hired.”
Wincing, I nod. “The idea that we can only manage how we react to things withers and dies on the vine in the face of that night.”
“Exactly. The experience taught you to be afraid of all alphas, and I hate that for you. Alphas are supposed to protect,” Dad reminds.
“Luis…used his bark against me,” I whisper. “Helpless doesn’t begin to describe how that felt.”
“Using your bark against someone like that is illegal,” he rumbles. “They should be in prison, not playing professional hockey. I wish I had pushed more?—”
“I doubt anyone would have believed me, despite being caught in the act,” I say. I feel really tired all of a sudden, and my eyelids are heavy. “I was doing okay tonight until I was surrounded by the players. Being five-two is humbling.”
“Speaking of,” he says, pushing something in my direction. “I had a stun gun delivered when I ordered pizza.”
“What a great time to be alive,” I giggle. God, I feel loopy. “Teach me how to use it tomorrow? I’m tired and beginning to fade.”
“Yeah, I can do that,” he says with a nod. “Tomorrow morning, will you go skating with me?”
“I…The last time I tried to go, I freaked out,” I confess.
“The rink is closed in the morning. It’ll just be you and me. Giving up the things you used to love is bullshit, Cae. Don’t let them do it.”
The unspoken words that my father didn’t give up hang in the air, and I push away from the counter as I think.
