“He’s not like that; he’s a beta,” Darren interrupted.
“I know,” I assured him. “But sometimes we don’t have the choices we wish we did. And how is he going to hide me? Keep me under his bed? I’ve heard him talking; he lives with his gran and uncle. And say he did manage to keep me hidden long enough that Ashford stopped searching and I get away, where am I going to go that’s safe? The law is archaic; any alpha could claim me; I could be kidnapped, bought, and sold.”
“But you could also just go and live a normal life in some big city where no one knows you and where no one wants to know anyone,” he said, pleadingly.
“Yeah, but the odds are terrible. Astronomically low. And I’ve seen countless more bet everything and lose it all than win big. I’m not a gambler. You’re asking me to bet my life.”
He didn’t reply. Instead, he crushed me in a hug that felt like my ribs would crack. The kind of hug you give someone if you think you might never see them again.
“It’ll be okay,” I told him. “You’ll see me around at the games.”
“It’s not the same. I don’t want to see you like that,” he said with a croak, like he might cry. “If you change your mind, just let me know—a thumbs up, blink twice or something. We can make it happen,” he told me.
“I’ll let you know if I change my mind,” I assured him.
Chapter twenty-one
It’s Hard to Speak
Cole knocked quietly on the frame of the bedroom door. It wasn’t mine anymore.
“Are you packed?” she asked, looking at all the clothes I had neatly folded on the bed.
“I’m just taking one change of clothes,” I told her.
She looked concerned.
“Everything is yours. You can take everything,” she said. It was hardly anything, and it was the most she had said to me since I waited outside all night for her.
“If I go back with all of this—” I motioned to all the clothing, most of which I hadn’t even had a chance to wear—“he’ll be upset,” I explained.
“Upset?” she asked hesitantly.
“It’s not something you have to worry about,” I told her.
“Harriet,” she said sternly, stepping into the room. “Does he… treat you well?” she asked.
“What do you think, Cole?” I asked, not trying to hide my anger. “You don’t get to throw me away, to ignore what”—I cleared my throat—“what we are, and act as if you care.”
“I can help,” she offered.
“Help?” I asked.
“Make it a condition of your return, of the credit agreement between Blizzard and Sandstorm, that you’re treated fairly,” she said.
I scoffed.
“Go ahead and do whatever you want,” I told her.
She nodded.
“Do you have friends or family at home?” she asked.
“You’ve chosen a weird time to take an interest in me,” I said, and she at least had the decency to look guilty. “I used to have friends and a family. That all kind of disappears when you find out you’re an omega,” I told her.
“They stopped talking to you?” she asked curiously.
“Friends acted like they didn’t know me, like I was invisible. My parents left the Pack. I don’t know where they went. Maybe they moved closer to my grandparents, my mum’s parents; they moved to a retirement village a few years before my first shift… I don’t even know if they’re still alive.”
