They don’t say anything at first. They just look at me, their eyes narrowing. I don’t care, though. I’m done.
I want to go home to my pack.
I sigh heavily, trying to find any way to alleviate the pressure in my chest. “I know I wasn’t right to stay in the townhouse without telling you, but I was struggling. I’ve had stuff going on in my life that you know nothing about because you don’t care about anything other than yourselves. I needed help, and I don’t have you for that.”
The moment the words leave my mouth, I know I’ve crossed a line. Mom’s eyes flash, and I can feel the temperature in the room drop by several degrees.
“Struggling?” she echoes, her words sharp as a blade. “Oh, you think you’re the only one who’s struggled?” Her laugh is a cold, humorless thing. “That’s what happens when you run off and abandon your family, Louisa. You don’t get to pin that on us.”
The sting of her words hits hard. My hands shake at my sides, and for a second, I’m sure I might burst into flames.
“You think I wanted this?” I snap. “I didn’t want any of this. I didn’t want to leave. I didn’t want to be embarrassed. I didn’t want my name to mean something filthy. But you left me no choice when you decided that robbing this town blind for your own greedy wishes was more important than?—”
Mom slams her hand against the table, the sound echoing through the café, loud as a gunshot. “Don’t you dare talk to me like that, Louisa Mae.You’rethe one who ruined your own life. Don’t you dare think forone secondthat we’re the ones responsible for your failures.”
Dad’s eyes go cold as ice. He stands up, towering over me. “You’re still acting like you’re the victim. You think we owe you something? That’s the problem with you, Lo. You always think you’re entitled to everything. Well, you’re not. You need to get out of here. Out of this town, for good.”
I’m drowning, the air suffocating as the tension crackles between us, sharper than anything I’ve ever known. The sting oftheir words cuts deeper than any accusation I’ve heard before, each one a jagged shard of glass scraping at my soul.
I wish my dad loved me.
I wish my family loved me.
I wish I wasn’t a Marsh.
Mom slams her hand against the table again, and it’s a slap to my face even as it jolts me back to reality. The sound reverberates in the pit of my stomach. A warning, a threat. “We’re leaving. And you should, too, if you’ve finally figured out what’s good for you after all these years.”
I don’t even realize that tears are streaming down my face until they get up and walk away. But as soon as I realize, the floodgates well and truly open, and all the sobbing I’ve been trying my hardest to keep inside comes bursting free.
CHAPTER 30
Hayes
Fucking hell, I couldn’t get out of the office fast enough.
The moment I heard from Beck that Lo’s parents were here, with Lo at the cafe in distress, I bolted. I didn’t even think about work. I know how bad Eleanor and Teddy Marsh can be, how much they upset Lo all the time.
I need to get to her. To help her.
Beck is on the way too, but he’s out of town for work. I’m the closest one to her. I need to get there, and fast.
My heart thunders against my rib cage.
By the time I reach the café, the world might as well be moving in slow motion. People are walking past me, heads down, too wrapped up in their own bullshit to notice the tension in the air. The noise, the chatter, the bustle of Honeysuckle Grove, it all fades to background noise. It’s just me and Lo.
After looking around and not seeing her, I panic. I rush back outside, slamming through the door and just barely missing a couple trying to walk in. They give me a dirty look as they step around me, but I don’t care.
My nostrils flare. Betas don’t have the same kind of smell as Alphas and Omegas do, but I can pick up the burnt sugar of her anxiety and sadness floating in from my left.
I dart in that direction and round the corner by the alleyway before spotting her immediately, standing there as if she’s waiting for the world to swallow her whole. Her shoulders are hunched, her head tucked down, and I can see the way her body trembles in the darkness, even from a distance. And I know she’s crying. No one has to say it. I can tell by the way she’s shaking.
She’s broken.
And I can’t let her be broken alone.
I move toward her, quick but careful. I’ve got to get her out of here, out of this hellhole of a situation.
“Lo,” I declare. “I’m here.”
