I wish she’d tell me what her life is really like behind those closed doors, but I don’t blame her for not trusting me yet. I’m a patient alpha; I’ll work up to it.
We continue to text throughout the next few days, and I greet her on her walks every morning. I bring a small trinket for her every couple days: a sparkly rock I found in my yard, a tiny pressed daisy, a few crystal beads for protection. She accepts each one graciously, then clenches them in her fist and holds it to her chest until she’s out of sight. Her scent begins to soften with a sweet undertone during our brief conversations, before returning to the more bitter, soapy scent I first noticed when she has to leave.
It lightens my heart with hope every single time.
And then there’s the fact learning more about her life is bringing out something in me I’ve never experienced.
I’m not a violent alpha, but as Sage reveals more to me about how her brother treats her, I’m starting to find that part of me. From what I’ve gathered so far, he’s abusive, manipulative, and controlling. I’ve tried to figure out who the other alpha is, but Sage is tight lipped about that one. All I know is that he’s friends with her brother.
She slowly opens up about other things, though. How shelikes looking out the windows at the forest behind their property. The flowers and birds, the pretty gardens and overgrown yards she notices on her walks each day. What weather she prefers—warm and sunny. Her favorite foods to cook, although when I asked her favorite foods to eat, she didn’t answer.
We’re getting close to the one-week mark, and it feels like the time has both flown by and that we’ve been talking forever. I’m desperate to spend real time with her, though, so I push more than I otherwise would.
I’d like to take you out on a date. Is there a way we can sneak you out? Do your brother and his friend ever leave for a while?
They go out to parties at night sometimes but I never know when. Or they go to sports games. I do not know what ones.
Do they like baseball? It’s baseball season, and if they go to a game that would give us a few hours at least.
I will try to find out.
Be safe
Chapter Seven
Sage
It turns out I’m quite good at sneaking around. Steve and Josh are used to me hiding away unless they yell for me—or if it’s meal time—so they don’t think to watch my movements. I’m able to sneak into their office easily enough that night when they’re out, and Josh has two tickets sitting on his desk for this weekend. I memorize the details, noting the time, date, and team names, then I mutter them under my breath as I hurry back to my room to tell Brooks.
My heart flutters like a hummingbird in my chest.
I found two tickets for Detroit Tigers on Saturday. They do everything together so I am sure both will go
Tomorrow? Do you want to escape for a couple hours?
My lips twitch up and I bite at them to quell it. I have no hesitation about the answer to that one.
Yes please
Brave girl. I’ll be ready to pick you up in my work truck as soon as they leave.
I don’t know if or when I’ll get another chance to go on a date, to escape this house for more than my twenty minute walks, so I take the leap and agree.
Having something to look forward to is a new experience for me. I feel lighter, but also more anxious. Giddy and scared at the same time, because to have the hope of this tiny good thing in my life, only for it to disappear or be snatched away or have been a trick of some kind… I don’t know if I’d survive it.
I’m starting to trust Brooks, though.
He’s been where he said he would every day this week, texting me the street he’ll be on in the morning so I can walk by them. And he’s consistently brought me thoughtful gifts. My omega is a happy, humming ball in my chest, but the rest of me feels wildly out of control with this change to my routine.
I try to act normal, to hold it all in and contain my optimistic nervousness over the next twenty-four hours. Brooks said he will have everything planned, and he’s reassured me multiple times that I’ll be back with time to spare so Steve and Josh don’t suspect anything, but it’s still nerve wracking.
“We’re leaving for a couple hours this afternoon,” Steve informs me during breakfast the next morning.
I nod, eyes on my hands as I serve him a helping of scrambled eggs and hash browns.
He picks up his fork to dig in, and I move to the other side of the table to serve Josh.
“Don’t miss us too much,” he says, then pinches mybehind while I spoon eggs onto his plate. I hold in my flinch and clench my hand on the utensil.
