I jerked when a phone rang somewhere nearby. The sound hit me like a shock and my whole body reacted before I could think. I jumped just right, my back arching in that old, atomicway, my muscles remembering the consequences before my mind caught up.
A cold rush of memory flashed.
I was bound to a brown leather chair. Tears streaked down my cheeks as I sobbed, breathless, as whacks from a thin, metal cane landed over my skin. Again. And again.
Somewhere between a sobbed breath and the hits, blood dripped down my sides.
I hated how fast it happened, leaving me out of control with fear and worry, and hopelessness. It was gone as quickly as it appeared, leaving me shaking in the Alpha’s lap all over again.
His phone went quiet, only to start buzzing again a moment later. The sound made my shoulders jump, but my hands didn’t loosen. I felt Evander shift beneath me just enough to reach for wherever he set the phone done, and even then, I didn’t let go. My grip stayed tight, almost instinctive, as if I released him for even a second the whole moment would shatter.
I got a glance at the name that popped up on the cell before Evander answered.
Mom.
My stomach dropped. There was no explanation for why; it just did.
Maybe it was because I would almost give anything to see my own mother again. But I knew that wasn’t possible.
So instead, I took a deep breath and made sure that I was as quiet as possible; just like I had been trained to be.
Being quiet meant not being seen. And if I was a secret…. than no one but the Alpha and I would know of my being here.
“Hey, Ma.” Evander answered, his voice easy and warm in a way that didn’t match the tension coiled in my chest. What struck me wasn’t the tone. It was his hold on me that didn’t change. His arm stayed firm around my back, fingertips slowly running in soft circles.
I couldn’t make out a single word from the other end of the call. It wasn’t meant for me anyways. I shut my eyes, pressed my forehead to his shoulder, and focused on the only thing that I could control.
Breathing.
Just breathing.
In and out.
“No worries. I’ll come by later this afternoon and grab it. I’ll need a break anyways from editing.” Evander answered. “Not that bad……Yeah…. I don’t think this year. Things are different……. I didn’t forget, I’ll never forget him……. Yeah. Sure. Alright. I’ll talk to you later.”
None of what was spoken made any sense, but it didn’t matter. I didn’t need to know. Either way, he ended the call shortly after.
“I love my mom, truly, but she really doesn’t need to prep for me. I can cook.”
“I’llcook.” The words scraped out of me, thick with tears and congestion, but at least they were understandable. It felt like it was the only thing I had to offer.
“Only if you want to,” Evander said, gentle but firm. “But not today, sweetheart. I want you to rest. Let me take care of you.”
The endearment hit something deep in my chest, something I didn’t have the strength to examine. I wanted to argue, to insist I could be useful, that Ishouldbe useful. That was the rule I knew. Earn your place or lose it.
But wrapped in his arms, with his hand still in my hair and my body still being hit by tremors from everything I’d held in for too long, I didn’t have the fight left in me. I was tired. Bone deep tiredness. Always tired.
And if he didn’t want me to cook…if he wasn’t asking me to serve or perform or prove anything…then maybe I didn’t have to force myself into a role I didn’t want right now.
So, I just nodded, a small, slow movement against his chest. A yawn slipped out before I could stop it, betraying me completely.
Evander’s hand paused in my hair for a heartbeat, then resumed its slow, steady motion, like he’d been waiting for that tiny sign of surrender.
Sleepiness crept up on me the way safety had. Quiet, slow, and almost unbelievable.
It started in the edges, the heaviness behind my eyes, the warmth polling in my limbs, the way my breathing finally found a rhythm that didn’t hurt. My body was still tense from the past day and half, still braced for something to go wrong, but exhaustion was stronger. It pulled at me, soft and warm.
I tried to fight it. I really did.
