I did know that, though with the five million other things Athena Holloway had to think about in a day, the daily lives of omegas was not usually at the top of the list.
In this day in age omegas could get jobs, buy their own property, and make choices about the alpha or alpha packs thatthey associated themselves with. Strict regulations when it came to omega centers had been put in place, allowing those of my designation to live more fulfilling lives.
But over the past ten years omega rights had been pushed back and forth by certain groups that held more‘traditional’values.
There were alphas in the world that would rather omegas be locked up in their alpha’s packhouses and kept barefoot and pregnant.
Livvy and the rest of those at the White House tried to keep me away from the articles written about me being a single omega in her mid-twenties with no plans to settle down, but I had seen them.
Let’s just say seeing me on lots of TVs pissed off lots of people and talking about the rights of my designation just made it worse.
As Livvy continued to chatter about the upcoming plans for the week, I couldn’t help but wonder if they had cut the speech because I had been so vocal in the past few months with off-the-cuff remarks at dinners and in interviews.
I opened my mouth to ask but stopped when Agent Brady slid into the seat opposite of us. “If we get you this ice cream, Lennon, you have to promise not to throw me under the bus if your mother kicks up a fuss.”
“I make no promises,” I told the beta man with a pert sniff. “You know how POTUS loves a good fuss.”
It was one of her many talents in life. When I was little she had spent most of her time fussing over me and Carter. Now she fussed over the entire country with a fervor that could impress even the angriest of mother hens.
As the motorcade pulled away from the curb Livvy was shoving my phone into my face. “Your brother is on the line.”
I took the phone, a grin already on my face. “I thought I told you to call mebeforethe dinner, Car.”
“And last time I checkedyou’rethe little sister andI’mthe bigger brother,” Carter said on the other end of the line, his words distracted as the sound of explosions coming from a TV filled my ear. “But I’m pleased to report that I am still alive, despite my best efforts.”
“Your dark humor doesn’t faze me,” I told him dryly. “You know these daily check-ins are a must. Your program—”
He cut me off. “My program states that checking in with a trusted loved one is imperative to a healthy recovery blah, blah, blah. Come on, Lennie, it’s been ten months since my last slip up. You’d think that you could cut me some slack.”
I swallowed the heavy sigh that was threatening to bubble up in my chest. “Ten months and six days to be exact. I count them the same as you, Brother. Now you agreed to me being your check-in person when you left treatment, but if you’d rather have Grandpa or Grandma do it then…”
My words trailed off, waiting for Carter’s inevitable reply. “No! You’re the perfect person for the job. Have I told you lately how much I love and appreciate you, little sis?”
“No,” I sniffed with faux-offense. “You haven’t, and here I was thinking about maybe bringing you back some ice cream fromThomas Sweets.”
That changed his tune immediately. On the other end of the line the sounds of gunfire stopped abruptly, telling me he had paused his game.
“Get me some pistachio and my life is yours,” Carter said, his voice full of longing. “I don’t know how you always talk your security detail into taking you there. I’m barely allowed to leave the residence, let alone gallivant around D.C. as I please.”
“I’m just that talented,” I replied, not pointing out the obvious fact that Carter—even stone cold sober—was a flight risk. Even before he’d gotten himself mixed up with drugs in his teens hehad spent most of his time trying to slip the security detail that we’d had since we were little.
I couldn’t remember a time when Agent Bradyhadn’tbeen with me except for the few years when I had a different security team when my mother was the governor of Massachusetts, whereas Carter had been alive before our grandfather became vice president and could remember a time when he was able to go places freely without a constant escort.
Swallowing, I finally bit the bullet and asked the question that I’d been dreading. “So how are you really doing today, though? And be honest with me, Carter, because I’ll know if you’re bluffing.”
It was almost that time of the year again when everything usually went to shit for him. We were just a couple of months away from the anniversary of our Dad’s death and that was usually all it took for him to go down a rough slide. Last year had landed him right back in rehab and it had also been my first time witnessing Carter on a bender.
Prior to that our parents and grandparents had kept me pretty sheltered from it all. But I had decided when I found him on the floor of his bedroom that I wouldn’t be doing that anymore and I would support him just like our dad had.
Before he died, our dad had been his go-to person before me, keeping Carter on the straight and narrow and always lending an ear when Carter was having a hard time and he’d done a damn good job of it.
By comparison, I was a poor substitute. But it was my job now to keep Carter going because I wasn’t sure if our family could survive it if we lost him too.
“I’m good today, Lennie,” Carter answered softly but firmly. “Classes aren’t stressing me out as much this semester, and thankfully Mom and Grandpa are too busy with the campaign to bug me about much of anything.”
Carter had been in and out of university for years, trying everything under the sun in order to make our mother happy. This year, however, I’d convinced him to just do what he really wanted to do, which was music.
Carter was a gifted composer, and while not as lucrative a career as business or political science, it was what he really loved to do and man was he good at it. I had never met anyone who could string together music the way he could.
