“Punishment?” I knew what the word meant, I’d been punished enough times to know exactly what punishment entailed, but what I didn’t understand was who was being punished. As far as I knew, I was the only one from the compound at this hospital. My thoughts flashed back to the man on fire who’d burst out of the meeting-house, he couldn’t be punished for the fire...right? Or was I being punished? I didn’t do anything wrong! “Am I being punished?” I asked shakily.
Emily looked like she’d rather be anywhere else but explaining this to me, but she still continued, “No, sweetheart, not you. You know Hezekiah Jordan right?”
I didn’t respond, just nodded, I knew Father Jordan better than most. I also knew him well enough to be scared of him. My eyes flicked to the curtain as if expecting to see his shadow lurking behind it as if waiting to punish me, “He’s not here, right?” My voice was tiny and small, and I couldn’t help the little whine that left my throat before I could catch it. I never whined, it usually made things worse for me in the end—it was a show of weakness, after all.
I didn’t realize that I had started to hyperventilate until Emily’s cool dry hands slid over mine, she ducked so that her blue eyes could meet mine, “No, he’s not. He can’t hurt you anymore, Tabitha. He’s the one who is going on trial for punishment?”
“Why?” I was almost afraid to hear her answer, but I needed to.
“Because, sweetheart, you remember the fire?” I nodded, “Well, Hezekiah Jordan was the one who set the fire and killed everyone inside.”
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Things had moved quicklyafter that, I was sent to a foster home with a nice older alpha/omega couple named Bernie and Janice. I didn’t speak at all except to Emily, the lawyer who was prosecuting Father Jordan, and the police. The other omegas living at the home gave me a wide berth like I was diseased.
My only joy during those few months leading up to the trial was helping Janice in the kitchen. She showed me how to bake my first loaf of bread and how to make the food that everyone waited all day to eat. Janice also didn’t force me to talk about things, just gently guided me through the motions and hummed to herself.
I don’t remember much about the trial. Just being scared of Father Jordan’s dark eyes glaring at me as I answered the lawyer’s questions about my upbringing. I was lucky that my testimony was sealed, and that the only people in the courtroom were people that I had okay’d. Janice and Bernie were there, along with Emily and Theo. His steady presence was the only thing that really got me through it all. Every time looking at Father Jordan’s eyes became too much, I could glance over his shoulder to where Theo was sitting and look into his calming blue eyes before answering the next question that I was asked.
After the trial, I was whisked away, and thrown into the San Francisco Omega Academy and the justice system washed its hands of me completely. I was incredibly lucky that Eloise and Gary never gave up on me, or I’d probably still be stuck as that quiet, little girl, forever frozen in time. I would never have become Tibby.
I just wish that had been the end of my story with Hezekiah Jordan but, like my nightmares, he just kept coming back to haunt me.
I was just about to start spiraling into my own dark thoughts, when I heard the front door beep and open. Theo, who had, at some point, also begun to doze off, sat up and checked his phone—briefly on the alert until he saw who was coming in. He then flopped back down onto the couch and called out, “welcome home, Aria!”
“Hi!” Her voice floated down the hallway, and I heard her heels click on the hardwood floor as she joined us in the living room. She was dressed like every stylish lawyer that I had seen on TV. She was wearing a black sheath dress that clung to her body like a second skin, paired with a dark green jacket. Her brown hair had been straightened and hung down her back in sleek waves. On her feet were a pair of black stiletto heels which she quickly kicked off, leaving them on the plush rug before joining us on the couch.
“Welcome back.” I offered, a little bit shy of seeing her after the way we’d left things this morning. I didn’t need to worry however, because Aria leaned over and gave me a kiss that made my toes curl.
“Hi, sweetheart.” She said after the kiss, her amber eyes fluttering open and a lazy smile on her face. “Glad to see you haven’t forgotten all about me in the last six hours.”
Had it already been six hours since she’d left Matteo and me? I must have taken an actual nap, I surreptitiously checked the time on my tablet and realized with a jolt that it was just after six.
“Oh shit, I’ve got to get started on dinner,” I jumped up from the couch, ignoring Matteo’s grumbles as he awoke from his nap. Aria shushed him, giving him a little peck on his mouth before moving to the couch and flopping down on Theo, who easily wrapped his arms around the woman. The two began to murmur to one another, and I caught a few words: prosecutor, scandal, and shitshow.
I headed into the kitchen and pulled out the things that I would need for breaded chicken alfredo. It was so nice to be cooking for others again, I didn’t realize that I missed it so much until now. When Eloise and I lived together, I cooked for us every night, and we would sit at the tiny round table in the living room and talk shit or scroll on our phones. With Cherry, the little omega who was still at the academy, she didn’t feel comfortable eating with anyone, so I usually just slid her plate under her door for her.
But the anticipation of sitting around the big dining room table with Pack Simmons, and Jacob, was quickly building inside of me as I patted the chicken dry and prepared the breading mixture.
I began frying the chicken filets, and over the popping of the grease I heard a sleepy voice say: “Smells good.”
When I turned to look over my shoulder, I saw that Jacob was standing next to the kitchen island looking adorably rumpled. He was still dressed in the jeans and t-shirt that he’d been wearing when he’d gone upstairs earlier, but they were creased now, and he was rubbing his stomach under his shirt as he squinted at me sleepily.
“Do you like breaded chicken alfredo?” I asked as I grabbed a glass from the cupboard, and filled it with cold water. I’d quickly learned my way around this room last night when I’d put together the lasagna.
“Water?” I offered Jacob the glass, which he gratefully took and drained in a few long gulps.
After finishing the glass, he gave a little gasp and an ‘ah’, and I zeroed in on his wet lips and had to force myself to look away as Jacob held the glass out to me, “Thanks.” He said and I had to blink a couple of times like an idiot before I finally was able to accept the glass and put it into the sink.
“And yes, I love anything that isn’t instant noodles, but I’m afraid I’m not good for much more than cutting and chopping vegetables. I’m a constant disappointment to my mom and grandma.” Jacob joked as he leaned against the counter, watching me as I moved back to the stove and flipped the chicken filet over, revealing its perfect, golden brown underside.
Water went on the stove in a pot next, the burners turned on high so that it could boil.
“Do your grandma and mom cook a lot?” I asked as I began prepping another loaf of french bread to make garlic bread and held it out to him. “Please slice some garlic for me?”
I watched him as he moved to the drawer where the garlic was kept, filing the fact that Jacob seemed to also be comfortable in the kitchen as another interesting fact. I was sure that there were more than just friendly feelings between this group—not that I minded at all. The beta, despite his usually stern expression, was handsome and smelled faintly of eucalyptus. Clean and fresh. As you’ve probably realized by now, I’m an excessively curious person who doesn’t care for secrets. Secrets are like a scab for me, I can’t help but pick at them until they are a bleeding mess. It’s definitely not my best personality trait.
