I don’t know.
It’s confusing for me too.
“My mom kicked me out when she realized where I was and who I was tangled up with. The next few months are mostly a blur. I remember some things, but I couldn’t recall what happened on a specific day, not even if my life depended on it,” I say, trying to make my jumbled thoughts into some kind of cohesive story. “They moved guns, but their primary focus was drugs—mostly crystal and weed, but sometimes coke or molly. It probably still is, I don’t know.” My head shakes, and I stare at my lap as memories flood back. “When I found out I was pregnant, I knew I had to get out. It wasn’t just me anymore.”
My eyes ache, and I squeeze them closed as I prepare to blurt it all out.
Only, Malachy’s scent hits my nose, and before I can open my eyes, he’s in the process of picking me up. He takes a seat in the chair I was in and faces me toward Patrick, but his huge hand splays over my stomach.
“No one could know that I was pregnant,” I finally say, trying to keep myself on track. “They never would have let me leave if they did.”
“Did they let you leave at all, Charlotte?” Patrick asks, and for the first time, there’s a seriousness to his tone.
“No.” My head shakes. “Not at all. Blade was their president back then. I don’t know who’s running things now, but he was so paranoid all the time. If you were just as blitzed out of your mind as they were…”
“Then you were less likely to run,” Cormac says.
“That too, but it made it less likely Blade would accuse you of being an undercover cop. Not that I should talk. I was pretty strung out back then too,” I say, my heart pounding against my ribs. All the vile things he said and did. The threats he made. They feel like they’re all sitting on my chest. “He said it so many times. Told me what he would do to me if I ever tried to leave…” I hate hearing the shakiness in my tone. “And I believed him. I have no doubt in my mind that he would have killed me, and I don’t think it would have been that far down the line.”
“And you believe Blade is after you because he knows about Lucky?” Patrick asks. “Or because he’s angry that you dared to leave?”
“I don’t think he’s after me at all.”
“What do you mean?” Cormac asks.
“The night I left the clubhouse…” My whole body trembles, and Malachy’s hand smooths over my stomach at the same time his chest vibrates behind me with the hum of his purr.
It’s a nice gesture, but I don’t think anything will truly calm me down right now.
“I snapped,” I blurt out. “I was exhausted and tired of being tormented. I was either going to kill him or he was going to kill me, but either way…” My head shakes. “Either way, I wouldn’t have to live like that for another day.”
The smell of blood hits my nose like I’m right back there.
The gurgling sounds that spilled from his neck and chest.
Even the numbness that took over.
“I couldn’t handle it anymore. I was starting to lose my mind. I don’t know if it was self-defense.” I pull my hand to my mouthas nausea hits me hard. “He was high and half asleep. What I did probably qualifies as murder, but even now, I don’t regret it. I know I did what I had to do to keep myself alive. I left that night, and a foundation that helps omegas escape bad situations smuggled me to Virginia. I stayed there until a few months after Lukas was born. They helped me get settled in Boston, and I really thought it would be easier to hide in a population this size.”
“It sounds like self-defense to me,” Cormac says, and I jolt in Malachy’s hold.
Jesus.
I’m entirely too jumpy, but it feels like I’m right back in the clubhouse, and I know I’ve done something wrong.
That feeling of all-consuming panic that I would get when Blade was pissed, but I was still waiting for him to dole out whatever punishment he deemed fit my crime.
And I know he’s gone.
It makes no sense, but my system still thinks it’s coming.
“I’ve always understood what they would do to me if they found me, but if they know about Lucky…” Tears well in my eyes, spilling down my cheeks as I blink. “Please don’t let them take him. He’s innocent in all of this. Everything I’ve done has been my attempt to protect him from my mistakes. I never meant for Lacey to get involved. I really am sorry.”
“Oh, little one,” Malachy coos, leaning forward and turning me in his hold.
My brain is overwhelmed to the point that I don’t think I tell my legs to move. It must be muscle memory or something, but I end up kneeling over him.
I bury my nose in his purring chest as he wraps his arms around my back.
