They’ve been running on fumes for a long time. I have a feeling the only reason they’ve gotten this far is due to their bond.
“It affects everyone differently. Cass can’t even smoke pot without feeling gross afterward,” I explain. “We took care of her last night, and we’ll do the same for you. I have a feeling Cassidy is helping your sister now.”
“Hmmm. You should sleep,” Abbott murmurs, scooting closer to wrap his arms around Bellamy without thinking.
For someone who killed several people yesterday, he’s a teddy bear at home. Bellamy’s gray eyes shoot up toward me in panic as if to ask what the hell he should do, while I shrug helplessly.
“Abbott is a cuddler,” I reply. “You’re ground zero now that I’m out of bed.”
I don’t feel even the slightest bit bad about it as I walk toward the bathroom to check on Winter and Cassidy.
I know Abbott would rather cut off his hand than hurt Bellamy. His confusion lies more in being held without any intention to take it further, and that’s a little sad to me. It’s a very different sensation from only cuddling with Cass, because she’s needed more than that from us.
Pack life is intricate, and not paying attention to one thing can have the entire dynamic imploding right in front of your eyes.
“Cass?” I ask, knocking on the door. Ugh, it’s so odd to be this polite in my own house.
I can’t walk in on our omegas. We need to work up to that kind of familiarity.
“Can you go grab one of my shirts, please?” she asks through the door. “I need an extra toothbrush too.”
“Do you need shower toiletries too?” I ask. While there are towels in this bathroom, none of us use this one to shower in.
“Please. You’re an angel,” she says.
I’m really nothing of the sort, but it still makes me smile as I hustle upstairs to get what she needs. I assume that the shirt is for Winter, so I choose a soft knee-length tunic for her. Biting my lip, I curse at the fact that I don’t have underwear for her.
Opening my phone, I order clothing for both Winter and Bellamy. If they get to the point where they prefer our clothing, that’s fine, but clean underwear is nonnegotiable. I’ll figure out if they need anything else along the way.
Hurrying back downstairs, I knock on the door as I hear the shower running.
“Thank you,” Cassidy murmurs, opening the door. The shower curtain is drawn, giving Winter privacy, and I hate that I can’t do more to make her feel better.
The clothing she was wearing before is now on the ground, reminding me of what I was doing earlier.
“I ordered both of them clothing online. Do you think we’ll need anything else?” I ask.
“No. This nausea sucks. Two omegas puking their guts out as they withdraw from opioids makes me sick just thinking about it,” she sighs. “Is Riley coming back?—”
“Ugh. I think… Cass?—”
Winter cuts herself off before she begins to puke again in the shower.
“It’s okay, Lovey!” Cass says. “Hold onto the wall, the water will do its job and I’ll clean up when you’re done.”
“I’m sorry,” Winter whimpers, crying.
“I’ll call Riley,” I reassure her. “I have a feeling the nausea is going to be part of this either way.”
“We shouldn’t be here,” Winter moans. “Bell and I are a mess.”
“You’re our mess,” I say, raising my voice over the running water. “Remember that feeling like shit is temporary, okay? You just need to get through the detox, Winter.”
The curtain is ripped open, and I find myself moving to catch her before I even realize it as she tumbles out. I’m not sure if she’s upset about being sick, or thinks leaving is an option right now.
For the record, we aren’t keeping her against her will. The very thought of her and Bellamy out in the streets while they’re this ill or at any time, really pisses me off though.
“Winter!” Bellamy screams from across the house. Fuck.
