“Dry clothes for Cass, please?” I ask.
“There’s some in the dryer,” he says, already heading that direction.
Honestly, I don’t know how people do this alone. There’s four of us, and we’re still scrambling.
Twenty minutes later, Winter’s hair is detangled, Cassidy is in dry clothes, and so is Winter.
“Try to drink a little water,” I suggest, sending them off.
Pulling out cleaning supplies from under the sink, I get to work cleaning everything, knowing full well this is just the beginning of things.
My phone chirps as I begin, and I’m relieved to see it’s Riley. That’s one less call I’ll need to make later.
“Hey. The nausea has officially started over here,” I greet him, continuing to clean.
“I had this weird feeling it was,” Riley says. “I’m bringing over Zofran and the test results for you guys to have. The first screening didn’t yield anything I haven’t discussed with you already. The second screening was an STI screening and pregnancy test, as well as an overall health screening.”
“Okay…” I growl, scrubbing the fuck out of the tub.
“No STIs, no pregnancy for Winter, but their levels of iron, vitamin D, and B12 are all very low,” he continues. “I’m going to suggest food supplements to help them gain weight, light exercise for muscle atrophy, and vitamins. I also found an influx of hormones in their blood. I wouldn’t be surprised if someone gave Winter birth control and both of them something to suppress their heats. I have a lot of questions still, Ansel. It’s just going to be a long haul to get Bellamy and Winter to full strength.”
“We knew that,” I remind him. “You’re not really telling me anything new, outside of the pregnancy, STI results, and an unknown in their blood that I will not hyperfixate on.”
“I know, I know. I do think they should talk to someone about the things they’ve gone through. You’re looking at nightmares, trauma, all kinds of things you’re not equipped to handle,” Riley says.
“How do you get people to talk who don’t feel safe enough to do that?” I ask him, keeping my voice down. “You know as well as I do that people who have been through trauma keepthemselves small and quiet when bad shit is happening. So when do you convince yourself no one is going to hurt you anymore while you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop?”
Cassidy and Shiloh grew up with silver spoons in their mouths, but I didn’t. Shi is still a very controlled psychotic alpha due to his upbringing because his dad was a piece of shit he put down when he was twelve. That was his first kill, but not the last.
On the other hand, I grew up poor with a mother who was a drug addict, so a little puke isn’t going to scare me off. I learned to get as strong as possible so she couldn’t sell me off for her next fix, and then I ran away from home.
Just because you’re rich, doesn’t mean life is all sunshine and rainbows. I’m not going to point this out to Riley, since that’s picking at scabs I shouldn’t. Nina’s life looked perfect, yet her mother was silently killing her soul.
Everyone’s life is very different behind closed doors, no matter how privileged or not you are.
“That’s very valid, Ansel,” Riley grunts. “I’m just concerned. Two omegas coming off heavy drug use and sexual abuse… I don’t want to leave you all to flounder, okay? Jumping into a therapist might not be the right call, but I want to keep that door open.”
“Consider it open,” I grunt, standing and rinsing off the tub before moving to the toilet. I’m going to need to clean the tile as well. Winter didn’t make it to the porcelain god the first time. “So you’re coming over?”
“Yes. I’ll be there in a half hour,” he says, trying to sound calm.
Yeah, this is definitely triggering Riley.
“See you then,” I reply, hanging up to finish what I’m doing.
I can’t wait to get on the other side of this so I can get to know Winter and Bellamy better. Fuck. Scent matches.
Things are moving so quickly, it’s still going to smack me between the eyes for a while as I get used to the idea.
BELLAMY
I haven’t had a heat yet, but being in the middle of withdrawals and detox fucking sucks. My skin is clammy, I have a fever, and time is moving oddly.
There’s nothing else left in my stomach, but it’s still pitching and heaving as if I’m on a boat, despite the medication someone called Riley put in my IV.
“Are you sure there’s not poison in here?” I complain, holding onto Winter’s hand tightly. Her head is on my shoulder, and her IV is in her other arm.
Paranoia is definitely running high.
