Welp, I think it’s safe to say Colt and Remy’s dads don’t like me. At least Alice, Wes, and Win seem to be fine with me, so that’s something.
Colt shoves back from the table in a burst of movement.
He slams his hands down on the oak, hard enough to rattle our plates as he snarls at his dads. “Don’t you fucking say that about her. Lark is not, and has never been, a problem. Az is the one choosing to be a moody little fuck and create problems where there aren’t any. Which you’d know if you found out the facts for once in your fucking lives instead of jumping to conclusions.”
His dads are varying levels of shocked at Colt’s outburst, and I feel like his reaction only confirms that I cause problems.
It’s depressingly hilarious that I’m always accused of stirring up trouble when I’ve spent my life going out of my way to avoid even inconveniencing anyone. No matter how hard I try to please everyone, I always fail. I’m always the problem. I’m always the one who needs to change.
The familiar rage and despair claw at my insides, and a scream bubbles up in my throat at the unfairness of it all. Letting it out won’t help the situation, though. It takes everything in me to swallow it back down and keep my expression neutral.
“Stop,” I whisper when he draws in a breath to keep yelling at them. Even though my plea was barely audible, Colt still freezes and looks down at me questioningly.
Blowing out a breath, I turn to their dads. I’m not brave enough to look any of them in the eye, so I settle for staring at the tops of their heads. “Azrael got into an argument with one of my friends. It escalated to a physical brawl, and I got in between the two of them. Azrael wasn’t happy with that decision, stormed off, and we haven’t seen him since.”
There’s a beat of silence before the four dads start talking loudly over each other.
“Silence!” Elliot barks after several moments of the chaos. When everyone quiets down, he turns a piercing glare on me. “What the fuck were you thinking? Do you not know Azrael at all? You’re lucky he didn’t kill you.”
Everything in me wants to curl up into a ball and hide under the table at how angry he is. He reminds me a lot of my own father right now, and all the memories I keep under lock and key are trying to bubble up.
But he’s not my dad, and there’s little he can actually do to hurt me. So I can’t give in to the urge to hide. Not in front of the guys.
While I’m pretty sure whatever friendship I was building with the guys is over after this debacle, I still don’t want them to see how broken and messed up inside I am. I want them to see me how I want to be—strong, capable, fearless, and someone Wren would be proud of.
Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I tilt my chin up and try to project a strength I don’t feel.
“No. I don’t know Azrael. I’ve met him twice. And I was thinking that he was going to kill Coop. And… I can’t lose him too.” My voice breaks on the last word, and a traitorous tear tracks down my cheek. Swiping it off, I push my chair back from the table and stand as gracefully as I can. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to use the restroom.”
I walk calmly out of the dining room without looking at anyone, ignoring the calls of my name and the angry shouting following behind me. As soon as the heavy wood door slams behind me, I take off at a sprint toward the powder room Win showed me earlier.
The hallway blurs through the tears flowing freely, and I almost miss the white door to the bathroom, with it being tuckedinto a corner. Pushing open the door, I slip into the room and quickly lock it behind me.
Once I’m in the relative privacy and safety of the powder room, my legs buckle under me. I slide down the smooth wood door to land in a crumpled heap on the cold, marble floor.
A sob breaks out of my chest at the thought of losing Coop too. There’s no doubt in my mind that if I hadn’t stopped Azrael, he would’ve killed him. And I know without a question that I’m not strong enough to handle losing Coop right now—or ever, really.
Coop has not only become one of my closest friends and someone I consider family, but he’s also my last tie to Wren. He was her fated mate. His soul was a perfect match to hers, so it feels like a little bit of her lives on in him. If he dies, then every part of Wren really will be gone.
And I don’t know how to accept that.
I know she’s gone, but part of me is still stuck hoping that these past seven months have been a horrible nightmare that I’ll wake up from. Hell, I’d give anything for the past four years to be nothing but a bad dream.
But each day that passes, the hope slips away and the reality that she’s gone forever sets in more and more.
A fresh wave of tears pours down my face, and I don’t bother trying to stop them. It’s better to get them out now when I’m alone than have a breakdown in front of everyone when I eventually gather the courage to go back out there.
“Hey, Lark?” Remy’s soft voice drifts through the door, interrupting my thoughts. “It’s Remy. I’m so fucking sorry about all that back there. My dads were so utterly and completely out of line. The guys and I all put them in their place. Even Win, Wes, and Alice were yelling at them for you. None of what they said was true, okay? Nothing’s your fault, and none of us are mad at you.”
Remy goes quiet for a moment, probably waiting for me to say something. But I can’t. Not when I know my voice is going to come out scratchy and choked up from all the crying.
After a beat, I hear a soft thump against the door, like he let his head fall against the wood. “Although, I understand if you’re mad at us for what they said. We should’ve just stayed in the loft, ordered in pizza, and watched cheesy action movies all night. Then, you’d still want to hang out with us instead of hating us because our dads can be real dicks sometimes.”
He sounds so heartbroken that it makes my chest ache.
“I’m not mad at you, and I don’t hate you,” I whisper, needing to do something to make him feel better. If he’s a shifter, like I think he is, he’ll have no problem hearing me.
“Yeah?” Remy asks with hope in his voice.
