“And your point is?” I sigh, and take a sip of my coffee. It’s the only thing giving me life right now. Although as my mother speaks, I wish I slipped a shot of vodka in there.
“Do not take that tone with me, young lady,” she huffs.
“What do you want from me?” I’m too irritated to deal with her right now. Can’t a girl at least finish her coffee before being reminded how much of a disappointment their mother thinks they are? “I’ve been following your rules. I’ve goneon one or two more dates with that pack.”
“That pack is a well respected pack. You should be honored that they have asked for another date.”
“Another one?” My eyes bug out. “That’s three this week, they want a fourth?” Kill me, please. Can the world just open up and swallow me whole? If I have to sit through another dulldinner and listen to them drone on about their business, I’m going to stab myself with a fork.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for listening to a love interest’s passions and life, but shouldn’t they give me the same courtesy? They hardly let me talk, and the one time I did, they inquired about my hobbies, asking if I liked to golf. No, no I don’t like to golf; nor do I do yoga, nor pilates. All of which they asked. When I told them what I do like, playing video games, they looked at me as if I was offending them. They told me video games were for children. That shut me up. I spent the rest of the night scrolling on my phone until they got angry with me.
So I forced myself to listen, all while imagining taking the steak knife and stabbing them in the hand with it.
You know the situation is bad when I’m thinking about murder. I’m not a violent person, I apologize to furniture when I bump into it for fuck’s sak. But these men,theseAlphas? God, I dislike them with a passion.
So why the hell do they keep asking for another date!? There has to be something going on. Did my mom make some kind of deal with them? Is she in some way selling me to this pack? Some kind of arranged marriage or something?
I sure as fuck hope not, because there’s no way in hell that will be happening. Over my dead body.
“Believe it or not, they do. Why? I have no idea.” She waves her hand. “The point is, they do. I think this pack is great for you. There is a gala in Los Angeles this weekend. I’ve cancelled your date with the other pack I had lined up for you. Instead, you will attend the gala with the Bancroft pack, as their date.”
“No. I won’t.” My cup makes a loud sound when I place it down on the table a little too roughly. “You said you would be setting me up with packs. Plural. You said I’d have a choice in which pack I pick from the ones you set me up with. You’re not giving me that choice, you’ve just decided this pack was bestfor me. News flash, Mom, they’re not. They’re boring and self-centered. They don’t care about anyone but themselves. I want to meet with the other packs for more choices because I can tell you, this pack will not be the one I pick."
“Plans change, Addison,” she states, glaring at me. The look tells me she’s not going to budge on this. It fills me with dread, causing a spike of panic. “What is the point of meeting with other packs, when this one has asked my permission to court you?”
My eyes practically pop out of my head. “W-what?” I splutter. “What do you mean askedyourpermission? What about me? Does what I want matter?”
“Not when it comes to a pack who is willing to give you everything, Addison. Grow the fuck up. They will take care of you, giving you everything you could ever want. Stop being so stubborn. If you put up a fight with me on this, you can pack your bags and get the hell out of my housetonight,” she shouts, then turns on her heels and storms away.
My chest is heaving, tears prickling the back of my eyes.She can’t do this! She can’t fucking do this.
“Fuck!” I grab at my hair, trying to hold myself together.
“Hey.” Elliot’s soft voice has me looking up.
My lower lip wobbles and I’m out of my seat before I even know what I’m doing. I throw my arms around his waist, bury my face against him, and squeeze tightly.
He hugs me back, a large hand gently rubbing up and down my back. “I hate her,” I sob. “I hate her so much. How are you with that witch?”
He doesn’t say anything, just holds me, being there for me. Why couldn’t he have adopted me? Then he would have been my dad.
Speaking of dads. As much as I want to stay in the US, I’m thinking it might be time to call my dad up and ask him to help me get the hell out of here.
He’s been asking me to move to Australia for years since I was no longer under my mother’s care. Back then the idea terrified me. It would have been such a big change and I was still finding my way in the world.
Maybe now it’s time that I leave. I’m sure I’ll see Cae again. We text all the time and I’ll come back to visit.
“What are you up to tonight?” Elliot asks.
I was going to stream tonight, but I’m just not in a good mood. I’d have to fake it, and even then I’m not sure I'd be able to pull it off.
“Why?”
“Why don’t you come to the game tonight? I’ll get you front row seats.” He winks, a smile forming on his lips.
He’s a good looking man. An older version of his son.
Come to think of it, I’ve never attended one of Damien’s KP games. The last time I saw him play would probably have been high school.
