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“Sadie.”
I lift my head. “What?”
“Where are your things?” Ethan asks, his tone not meeting the harsh snappish level of mine.
Not understanding the question, I frown. I have everything I left the house with. “I don’t know what you’re asking me.”
“Your bag, vixen. Where’s your bag with all your stuff?” Luca says, doing a less impressive job of keeping his voice level.
But then I realize what they’re asking. They think I packed all my shit up and left, that I stopped by the club before I headed out of town. They don’t need to know how fucking close I got to doing that. Fuck, I wish I had. “It’s in the bathroom.”
“Of the club?” Maddox growls, pulling out his phone like he’s going to call someone to grab it. Probably Lily with her stupid floral scent and pretty brown eyes.
“No, asshole. At your house. It’s in the bathroom downstairs next to the gym. The one that I’ve been using.”
I could be misreading all of them, but I swear as soon as I say the words, they all relax marginally.
“You weren’t leaving?” Ethan asks slowly, to make sure they understand.
“No, I realized I left my car parked on the street and I’d at the very least get a bunch of parking tickets, or maybe even towed. I went to move my car.”
“Is that what you were doing while you let that asshole alpha grind his dick on you? Moving your car. Is that the name of a dance move I don’t recognize?” I don’t look at Maddox, don’t fucking acknowledge him or his surly ass, not after what he said to me, what he called me.
The steering wheel creaks as Luca squeezes it. “You’re fucking bonded, Sadie.”
“Oh, am I?” I smack myself on the forehead. “Gee, thanks for finally fucking remembering that, so you could make me feel like shit, Luca.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
I ignore the question because if he doesn’t know, I don’t have the patience to explain it to him. “And for the record, I danced with the guy for all of two seconds. I was about to push him off of me because he was way too close and I didn’t like it.”
“I’m going to hunt the fucker down and kill him, I swear,” Luca growls.
Ethan is staring at me, taking in my still guarded position on the seat. How far I am from Maddox. It’s a feat of strength, honestly, because even though I’m mad as hell and hurt, my omega wants to go to my prime alpha and let him make it better. Like he’s supposed to.
Too bad, girly, that’s not gonna happen.
“Okay,” Ethan says gently. “Let’s all just take a breath. Calm down.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to yell at him for telling me to calm down, because that’s literally never helped any situation. Ever. Instead, I take a deep breath, turning to look out the window at the buildings passing by. “I still need to get my car,” I mutter.
“We’ll have someone grab it for you,” Maddox growls, head also turned away from me like he can’t stand to look at me. “They can bring it to our garage.”
“You could have asked one of us before leaving the penthouse,” Ethan says, still observing me.
“Oh?” I say, not looking away from the window. “How would I have done that? I don’t have your phone numbers and I obviously couldn’t talk to you face to face since none of you-” I cut off because if I keep talking, keep thinking about sitting long and crying into my mashed potatoes, I will one hundred percent, whine and/or cry and I don’t want to do that. I refuse to.
Thankfully, Luca pulls into the underground garage, and I don’t have to keep talking to them. I’m out of the car before it’s fully parked and in front of the elevator that will take us up to the penthouse, only to realize that I can’t even call it. The handprint scanner mocks me, reminding me they haven’t actually accepted me into the pack. I can’t enter their pack house without one of them.
The three of them join me and I can practically feel Maddox’s smirk as he reaches out and places his hand on the scanner. I don’t look at him, keeping my eyes on the silver doors until they part.
As soon as they do, I slip through and press myself against the back wall, tipping my head back with my eyes closed. I’m tired and sweaty and achy. I need water more than I need air, and the last thing I want to do is have a conversation with assholes about my hurt feelings.
I don’t want them to know they hurt me. That after twenty-four hours of knowing them, I feel like they pulled my heart out of my chest and dangled it on a string for them to all take shots at, like a bloody, beating pinata.
Even though Luca might feel it.
But then, I’ve been working hard to keep the bond locked down tight.
