Dammit.
I take a deep breath and make the next dreaded call.
Thankfully, my father answers immediately.
“Dad? It’s Brylee. I just wanted to let you know that I’m okay,” I say in a rush.
“Brylee! Oh! Thank goodness. Where are you? What happened?” The concern in his voice is authentic, and it rips like a Band-Aid, leaving a sting.
Until I realize…he asked me what happened.
I’m certain he’s been briefed. Maybe he’s just wondering how I got away. Or waiting to hear my side of the story.
My eyes water. “I’m okay. Alpha Team X got me out of there.”
I turn my back on the chorus of protests behind me and face the wall. Technically, theydidpick me up. They deserve the credit. Besides, I highly doubt my parents would ever believe that I took out a warehouse full of alpha soldiers on my own.
Even I hardly believe it.
Dad heaves a sigh of relief. “Good. Good.”
“Hey, do you know where Teddie is?” I ask, voice hitching.
“Safe house, I think.” Dad clears his throat. “Your mother and I just got back from ours, and I didn’t have phone coverage there.”
Blowing out a heavy breath, suddenly a thousand pounds lighter, I nod too many times. That makes perfect sense.
“Okay. Good. When you hear from him, ask him to call me, all right?”
“Will do, sweetheart,” he replies, voice softer than normal. “Glad you’re okay.”
“Same.”
“You want to talk to your mom— Oh, oh, wait. She just got called into a meeting.”
Of course she did. My eyes roll even though a hot tear escapes and trickles down my cheek. The darkest part of me wonders if she even noticed that I was gone.
“No problem. I have to go anyway.”
“Love you.”
I say the words back to him even though my throat feels lined with a thousand thorny vines.
After I hang up, I remain staring at the wall. I blow out a long, slow breath, but the tumult doesn’t end. The chasm inside feels like it grows bigger.
She couldn’t even pick up the phone?
Black specks tease the edges of my vision. Dizzy, my insides churning, I turn back around.
Kylian and Luka move toward me at the same time, concern coloring their expressions. Their arms open as they move forward.
But I can’t breathe.
Can’t. Breathe.
The air is sucked from the room. Their pitying expressions strip it from my lungs, and a raw ache pulses through me, filling me from head to toe. Their torsos become walls, boxing me in, surrounding me, about to close in further. Compressing. Pressure pounds, and my nerves scream.
It’s too much.
