“Remember when Mama told us to look in her room under the nightstand, but Daddy wouldn’t let us in there? I got it after Daddy sent you off…it was Dec’s number. He came and got me after I killed Daddy. He kept me safe, trained me to be how I am now. He saved me, Mabel. Saved both of us.”
“I guess…” she sounds hesitant, “I guess that makes me feel better.”
“He’s the one who got us out of Thornfield,” I say gently, “he carried you out himself. Him and his pack…they’re all like older brothers to me. I don’t know if I would have survived without them. They…they’re good alphas, Mabel-cakes.”
“I s’pose…” Mabel sighs. “I s’pose I should say thank you.”
“Nah,” I shake my head and chuckle, “You can give him hell a little longer. But, Mabel?”
“Yeah Jo?”
“Can you…can you scent anythin’? Like Dec’s scent, or anyone else's?" If she can scent him, then I guess we’ll have our answer right here and now about whether or not they’re scent matches.
“No, Jojo. I…I can’t scent anythin’. Not for a while now. It’s like my omega is just…gone. Why?”
Dammit.
“No reason,” I lie, hating myself. “Just…you can trust them, okay? Dec and his pack have heard so much about you the last five years, don’t be surprised if they act like they already know you.”
Because you might be their true scent match.
Mabel has enough things to worry about without adding mates and the Irish Mafia to the mix.
“That makes sense.” Mabel sighs. “I thought maybe it was a side effect of what Whitmore did to me, with the way I felt like I could trust them, but if you’re telling me I can…then I guess I’ll trust my instincts.”
“I would definitely trust your instincts, especially when it comes to them. I trust them with my life, but more importantly, I trust them with yours.”
“I love you, Jojo. I miss you so damn much.” I can hear the tears in her voice, and I have to hold my own back.
“I love you too. We’ll figure out a way to talk every day, okay?”
She sniffs. “Okay. It looks like Declan has to leave.”
“I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”
“Bye, Jo.”
The phone is passed back to Declan, and his voice is slightly muffled, like he’s cupping his hand over the microphone. “Well?”
I sigh. “She can’t scentanythin’. I had the same thing happen to me. But…she did feel like she could trust you, she just wasn’t sure if it was real or not, on account of all the drugs Whitmore pumped into her.”
Declan lets out a low growl. “When I get my hands on him—”
“Get in line, big brother. I got dibs.” Declan gives a little huff, and I smirk. “Regardless, she knows she can trust you now. She already knew we weren’t really twins, apparently Daddy Dearest tried to use the information to make her go with her new pack quietly. She also knows you’re my brother. So, it looks like everyone’s on the same page.”
Except the whole possible scent-match thing.
“So you think she’ll talk to us now?” Dec says hopefully. “I know I just met her, but she’s ours, I can feel it.”
“You will not tell her that.” My voice is sharp. “I mean it, Dec. You can get to know her if shewantsto, but if I find out a single one of you said anythin’ to her about matin’—”
“I know, I’m not an idiot, Jo.”
“Good,” I snap. “And for fuck’s sake, Dec, get Mabel her own phone. She probably feels like a prisoner.”
“Yeah, okay. I can do that. Maeve can be there with the suppressants tomorrow.”
We hang up, and I toss the phone on the bed, sighing heavily.
