Why did he have to come down?Why can't he just let me live my life?If I were being charitable, I'd think it's because he's worried about me and just wants me to keep me safe.
But I'm not feeling charitable.
I'm feeling bitchy, horny, and irritable.It's like he has some personal radar tuned to me that goes off the moment I try to do something for myself.Hazarding a glance down, I look at my travel bag.
Three weeks.Three fucking weeks.I think I can do this for three weeks.
Gritting my teeth, I grip the wheel again and stare out at the empty stretch of road.I don't even dare turn on music for fear of getting too into it and committing some small infraction that will bring down the dad hammer.Three fucking weeks.
My skull poundsby the time I pull into the familiar driveway.Dad pulls in beside me and shoots me a wide grin.Of course he's happy I'm home.He won't have to worry about me while I'm here under his thumb.
As much as I want to just crawl into my bed and sleep until it's time for my next semester, I know they won't let me.I'm sure they both have nothing but "fun" Christmas activities planned that they can't wait to share with me.With a soft groan, I force myself out of the car.
The sooner I get inside, the sooner I can leave.If I'm lucky, some of my other friends might be in town and I can get an out.It's a desperate thought, but enough to propel my feet to the back of the car to unload.First things first… the dildos of mass destruction.
As I hoist the bag onto my shoulder, my dad grabs a few of the heavier ones and follows me inside.Just like the last time I was home, my stepmom drops what she's doing in the kitchen and races over to me.
"Oh my gosh, Lila!I'm so glad you're home!”she cries out as she dusts her flour-coated hands onto her apron.As she clacks her way over in those odd kitten-heel shoes she likes to wear, her soft brown curls bounce with each step, framing her face in a perfect coif.The complete opposite of Mom’s crazy messy buns with paint sticks jammed into them.“You must be exhausted.Here, let me take your bag."
"Careful, Linda," my dad teases with a gruff laugh."She probably won't let you take it from her."He leans over and gives an exaggerated whisper."Female stuff, you know."
"Dad," I grind out, finally allowing a little of the irritation to bleed into my tone."Can't you just drop it?"
"What?A dad can't tease his daughter?"
Linda chuckles as she swats him on the arm."Oh, Bobby.You're incorrigible.Leave the poor girl alone and let her get settled back in.It's almost dinner."
"Thanks, Li—Mom."I quickly amend as I catch my dad's warning gaze."Shouldn't take too long.I'll get a quick shower and be right down."
"I'll get the rest of your stuff in the room for you," Dad calls out as he reaches his hand out to ruffle my hair."Good to have you back home, kiddo.Even if it's just for a few weeks."
The smile I give him is wan and thin.I can feel myself grimace up at him.It certainly doesn't reach my eyes, and why would it?I hate everything about this interaction.If only my classes weren't so consuming that I could get a good enough job to pay for my room and board at school.Or hell, even a small apartment.Maybe then I could finally get out from under his exacting, annoying thumb.
My brain takes a darker turn as I trudge past my parents' downstairs bedroom and up the stairs to where I know my bedroom will still be that pristine white and pink from when I was little.Dad never did let me repaint it.Even when I told him my color palette had vastly changed.
Not that I completely blame him.Even now, as I walk past the room Nathan uses, the nostalgia and memories creep in until my eyes nearly burn with unshed tears.As I turn into my room, I stop and stare at the delicate lines giving the space a cotton candy pinstripe.Though I barely remember Mom and I painting this room together, it's still there at the ragged edges of my memories, clinging on for dear life.
In some ways, I'm glad he never let me change it.It keeps a small part of her still alive.As I tuck the bag of illicit goodies into the adjoining jack and jill bathroom, I come back out to stand in the middle and look at everything, forcing my heart and soul to remember.
The four-poster canopy still stands in the middle with the fluffy white curtains draped on top.Thankfully, I'm still sort of small enough that I can fit.It's not as comfortable as when I was a child, but it'll do.Perks of being an omega, I guess.
As I curl my hand around one of the pillars, my dad walks in and stands behind me."She'd be proud of you, kiddo," he murmurs, his voice gruff and thick with emotion.
Needing to break the tension, I turn back to him and smirk."I hope you're proud of me too."
"Well, of course I am.I just wish you didn't have to be so far away.I worry about you.I know what Alphas and betas are like.I'm in the streets every day dealing with them."
"You're an Alpha too, you know."
"Yes."He clears his throat and raises an eyebrow."But I'm one of the good ones."
"You know many of the other Alphas are good too."
"I know that.But I don't trust them."
"You mean you don't trust them around me."
"Of course, that's what I mean.If you just knew how many calls I've had to handle of Alphas going rogue over an omega in heat.Hell, I'd take the petty crimes the betas do over dealing with an Alpha in a rut."
