Page 46 of Knot Your Pucking Baby

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I shake my head, “Why now? Why not when I was younger?” I say, humoring him for a moment. Brett drops his hand from my shoulder, “I had tried to look for you everywhere. After Marie and the pack were murdered, we searched for you for years. But it was like you were gone. Disappeared off the face of the earth.”

Murdered. My mother. My parental pack.

I can’t help but feel disbelief, even though something is screaming in me that what Brett is saying is factual. I just can’t wrap my head around it. Why would my Dad hide something from me like this if it is to be believed? And why now?

“Look,” Brett sighs before handing me a business card, “here is my card. Take it, and once you have processed it, give me acall. But if you want to know more, I suggest you ask Pack Ars Mortis.”

Without another word, Brett turns, leaving me absolutely reeling over the information that has all but been dumped on me.

And just because that isn’t enough, Sasha, Holden, and Dominic as well.

I turn back to the ice, finding the one person I didn’t know I needed. Sasha.

Any kind of ire that had once become familiar to me is gone. There is nothing but deep sadness and panic.

He knew.

No.

He fucking knew every single word that Brett just sent to me. He knew the one thing that would completely turn my life upside down, and he said nothing. No matter what kind of ire he feels for me, he still hid the truth from me. One that I had every right to know.

Every strange look across the rink. Every conversation that ended just a little too soon. Every question they never answered. Every time I caught Dominic watching me with that guilt buried so deep behind his eyes. Every teasing smile from Holden that almost never reached his eyes. The things I thought I knew about them. I thought I was just starting to learn to read them. None of it had been confusion on their part. None of it had been a coincidence. They had been carrying the truth while watching me build a life here on nothing more than a lie. A legacy that never truly belonged to me.

A lie they kept from me. Not one fucking word of the truth despite the thousands of chances. They wanted this. They did this on purpose. Why else would they keep this from me?

Panic crawls up my throat.

I can’t be here.

I need to leave.

I hand the clipboard off to Blake, my assistant coach. He gives me an odd look but takes it anyway.

“Here, I…” I trail off as the lump in my throat stops me from talking. Swallowing roughly, I try to calm myself down. At least enough that I can get the fuck out of here. “I need to leave.”

Turning, I run straight into the chest of Dominic. He fucking knew. He knew right along with Holden what Sasha knew. I just know it. I feel it in the pit of my stomach. The look on his face gives away just how right I am about that.

Motherfuckers.

“Lennon…” he begins, but I stop him with a raised hand.

“Don’t you fucking dare try to stop me, Dominic. And fuck you. Fuck you for knowing and not telling me. Fuck the lot of you.”

I shake my head, crossing my arms over my chest as some kind of last-ditch effort to hold myself together.

“I don’t know what I ever did to deserve this kind of hatred from your pack, but I know I don’t fucking deserve it. You can all go and fuck yourselves.”

Chapter Eighteen

Lennon

Idon’t remember the drive here. To be honest, I don’t remember much past my interaction with Dominic.

But here I am. Sitting out front of Holden, Dominic, and Sasha’s penthouse. The three Alphas that have been tormenting me from the moment I was named as the next Head Coach of the Cardinals. Someone who lives in the building was gracious enough to let me in and guided me to the elevators and all the way up to the top floor. Because, of course, they live in a place like this.

I need answers.

I need to know what they know. The only way I could think of to get that, aside from speaking to the men directly, was to go straight to their home. I’ve never broken into someone's house before. I had never had a reason to. Until now, apparently. I stare blankly at the numbers on the lockpad of their front door. Like if I stare at it long enough, it will somehow give me the code.