“Nothing happened,” Benjamin Benton insists. Finally doing something besides standing there looking like a statue.
“No, it did. You just got notified of how far we have gone to protect our Omega. Hopefully you are now on the way to understanding Simona is not a part of this fucked up Family anymore. We are hoping for a peaceful resolution.”
Another, louder show of derision. They’re throwbacks full of malice and contempt. It echoes through the small space we’re in but like them, it’s nothing compared to the way my Alphas hold the stage and speak.
Ryder takes over, his words slow and deliberate while he stares each one of them down. “Simona’s wishes are what drives our pack. Everything we have done has been at her request. And where possible that will continue.”
“And that means?” Wren asks, suddenly finding her voice. Although Brody’s father silences her with a sharp look, putting her back in her place.
Hendrix ignores what’s going on between them and intentionally answers both of them. “Let her go. Move on. Don’t come for her. But sadly, because no doubt you’re going to get hung up on the fact someone actually said no to you, we are fully prepared for your retaliation. And this is important, so listen up.” Hendrix clicks his fingers impatiently. “The court documentation, and the avenues we have taken provide Simona the protection she needs in theeyes of the law. I don’t think it’s a stretch of the imagination to offer that the founding families believe they are above the eyes of the law, so I want to also let you know that I don’t trust you to simply let her walk away. You should, but you’re an obnoxious fuck surrounded by other, equally obnoxious fucks.”
Hendrix pauses to see if they’re going to argue the fact and when they don’t, he laughs, shaking his head before his mood snaps and he only focuses on the Alphas in the room. “Keep up with me here, because while Dominic has nailed your balls to the wall legally, I’m about to talk Alpha to Alpha. Simona has a highly trained security team with her at all times, and we have provided them with a kill order. Any person named in any document you now have in your hands is included in our instruction. I don’t care what the circumstance is, you come anywhere near my Omega, I, or someoneelse I pay, will blow your fucking brains out. You might want to sit down with your stupid cunt of a son and walk him through that, word for word. If he had listened to Simona when she said no, and if you had moved on from your archaic mindset of bullshit forced packing, you would not be in the situation we are in.”
With that, he turns back to us, and we go to walk towards the lift. But it dings and opens before we can even push the button.
“Ah, look at that. Faster than what I thought,” Hendrix muses, making way for the courier to walk out past us and straight to the families.
The man acting as a courier hand delivers an oversized bunch of fiery red Delonix Regia—or Phoenix Flowers—first to Wren, then to Brody’s father, and finally to the other two Alphas in the room. Before leaving, he makes a slow turn in front of everyone, the Fallen MC logo emblazoned across the back of his leather jacket, a bold statement for the world to see.
Hendrix waves Dominic to position himself inside the elevator, standing to block the doors from closing before he passes me to Ryder so he can return back to the pale-faced recipients of the flowers. “Please tell me you understand the meaning of both these things. God, that would be embarrassing if you don’t.”
He doesn’t wait for them to confirm or deny they do, before he says what he was always going to say. “Phoenix Flowers delivered by the Fallen MC on behalf of the Phoenix Group, a dangerous message. Simona is theirs to protect. Her protection is an ongoing arrangement we have with both The Fallen and the Phoenix Group. Paid in full already. And money aside, fuck me, haven’t the outlaw MC groups recently spread everywhere throughout the country. I mean, they make me nervous because they are literally everywhere,but the Phoenix Group are sneaky fuckers. No one knows who they are or where they are.” He makes a clicking noise and winks for added effect. But I suspect he’s also holding a dramatic pause, not only so the Alphas and Wren understand the reach our pack has, but also that we have the means to pay up front. “Let’s cut to the fucking chase. Dominic, Benjamin and I will protect her with our dying breath. You push us, and we will burn your world to the ground.”
As we’re about to leave, Dominic clears his throat. Intentionally.
Hendrix throws his hands up. “Okay, okay. It’s all about the delivery, but in this instance, I can’t take all the credit for the dramatics. The flowers were always coming. It’s pure coincidence that they arrived when we did. The flowers were to be delivered as confirmation of a service fulfilled.” He fiddles with his phone this time. Only one phone pings, and it’s not Wren’s. It’s Brody’s father’s. “I got your mutt tagged. He’s now sporting a state-of-the-art microchip in the back of his neck. If you try to dig it out, it’s set to booby-trap, releasing a fast-acting lethal dose of poison. Keep your son on a tight fucking leash because I can track his movements. One step too close to her and it might resolve all our issues.”
Chapter
Fifty
Weeks later
SIMONA
“I’m not sure I can, Hen. I’m not kidding,” I manage before folding forward, dropping myhead between my knees as a way not to faint. I’d be worried he couldn’t hear me, but he got out of our Range Rover, opened the front door and was next to me as soon as I started rubbing a hand over my throat.
It’s not the first breakdown I’ve suffered during the past few weeks. And I’m not saying that lightly, I’m just stating facts. It’s something I’ve had to learn how to do, focus on actual facts and things or events happening instead of relying on my emotions, my feelings. And I’ll have to keep adjusting my mindset while my emotions balance out and settle down.
My pack had to call an ambulance in the middle of the night for my first attack. I seriously thought I was dying, I think they were worried I was going to too. I couldn’t get air in my lungs. I couldn’t find a way to stop screaming. And when I closed my eyes, I couldn’t stop seeing Dominicrolling over in bed and picking up his phone. Even now, the memory of his doing just that is so visceral, I can recall every vivid detail; his eyes barely open, his face lined with sleep, his eyes locked on me as he listened without saying a word. After the first word the caller said, I could feel his sympathy.
The last thing I remember of that night was him shifting around fast to sit with his back against our bedhead, the white sheets dropped to pool on his lap, the muscles on his arms tightened as he dragged me upright, holding me to his chest while calling out for the others. Although I don’t remember Ryder or Hendrix arriving, I was already lost listening to how fast Dominic’s heart was beating, already sensing I was about to break.
Waking up in a hospital bed, with IV lines attached, took me straight back to the time when I arrived at Unity. But the obvious difference, I wasn’t alone, my pack was next to me. And it wasn’t the flu I was suffering.
The sedation gave me space in the constant looping of my thoughts to comprehend and start to deal with what had happened. Lawson died. And I had been drowning in guilt and grief. Along with every other associated emotion that had become too huge, too loud, too intense.
They saved me. Acting fast. Getting me the very best care available. And I swear their constant love and attention worked better for my fractured state than the new medication I’d been prescribed.
Understanding the reason for the sedation was, in a way, easy—medication would help my mind rest and my body recalibrate. Accepting I needed it wasn’t difficult either. I’d been surviving in flight mode for a while, and while that had been a necessity, I now had the luxury of safety. Some part of me trusted that my pack could handle things, allowing that part of me to fall into the abyss, so to speak. The cascading effect was that I had to confront my mental health—not justthink about focusing on it one daysomeday, but actually do it. I wasn’t bitter about that. Fragile and cautious, maybe—but grateful too.
The drugs were only one part of my treatment plan.
The therapist was another. I’m seeing an older lady who insists our sessions happen with fluffy socks on our feet and furry blankets around our shoulders. Seeing a doctor with so many laugh lines gave me the reassurance I needed to feel okay talking with her. Because surely someone who laughed as much as she did could show me the way to fix the deep well of sadness inside me.
Initially, I panicked at the thought of her coming into our home. I should have been going to her office, but she challenged me right from the start, asking if I’d feel comfortable enough in her office to nap there. The answer was an obvious no. Then she pointed out that if I didn’t feel safe enough to sleep in her office, equipped with state-of-the-art security, how could I expect to share my most private thoughts in that space. Her only stipulation was we see each other every day. Our session had no timeline, there was no set agenda, but she wanted to see me face to face. Some mornings I met her at the elevator with clean hair, dressed in fresh clothes and a tentative smile. Other times, I was wrapped in the arms of one of my Alphas. Still, I saw her and was feeling better about it.
Being home was therapeutic. No real surprise there, as soon as I walked into their home, it felt like mine. Sleeping in my nest surrounded by pack, under blankets saturated in their scent while they pressed themselves everywhere they could, is what I needed.
