“Not after what he allowed to happen to her. As far as I’m concerned, he’s no longer her father, and I am no longer his physician. He can find someone else to clean up his messes.”
My skin feels too tight as I think about everything that could have happened to her while living in that house. I need to see if I can hack into Don Accetta’s security system. Nico asked me to do it before, and I refused.
I feel really fucking stupid now.
“Won’t that be a problem?” I ask worriedly. Dr. Walsh is doing us an enormous service by coming here. I don’t want something awful to happen to him because he answered the wrong call.
“Not at all. My family won’t allow anything to happen to me, and I have enough to bury the Accetta’s after all the house calls I’ve done over the last ten years. I’ll be fine. I suggest you find another place to stay though,” he says. “Try Orson Realty. They’ll place your booking under their umbrella company so you simply disappear. Good luck. I'll see myself out.”
Picking up his already packed up bag, he walks out of the house at a sedate pace that feels so much faster. It’s not until I hear the click of the door that I begin moving.
“Someone needs to stay with them at all times,” I grunt. “I’m serious. I need to take a fucking shower.”
“Hey. It’s going to be okay,” Dario says, stepping into my field of vision.
I feel as if I’m being pulled in several directions, and none of those have the answers I need.
“It won’t be until I can wash off the day and see the video from Don Accetta’s cameras.”
“Pablo.”
My name makes me stumble as it falls off Nico’s lips.
“I need to know,” I rasp, my hands twitching from inaction.
“Maybe she doesn’t want you to know.”
“How do we help her when she’ll clearly waste away if we don’t!” I scream, turning to face my stepbrother. “She’s your scent match, isn’t she, Nico?”
Ciro stares at his feet as Nico takes a deep breath and nods.
“She told me she tried to kill herself,” he admits. “Her father had her beaten the day I met her for the first time, though I couldn’t see the bruises. She’s very good at hiding the marks.”
“That’s not a good thing,” I complain, my eyes pulled to Rosalia’s dark strands now that they are no longer confined by her hairstyle. The shadows from it almost makes her under eyes appear bruised, and I feel more determined to ensure she never has to see her father again. “I want him dead, Nico. Promise me. If we don’t need him, and want to make sure we aren’t running for the rest of our lives?—”
“Then we have to sacrifice the entire fucking family,” Dario finishes mildly to my surprise. “I’ve been thinking about it too. They’re all evil. The children can go into foster care and hopefully learn to be good people, but the rest we should light on fire.”
Rosalia gasps on the table, tears leaking from her eyes, and I force myself to stay still. She doesn’t know who I am. The last thing I want to do is freak her out.
Nico brushes away her tears, leaning over to whisper in her ear.
Sucking in a breath that I immediately decide is a bad idea as a room full of pheromones hits me, I turn and walk out of the living room.
“Pablo!”
“I’m good!” I promise Dario as he calls out to me, aware that I’m lying.
There’s so much wrong with me, I don’t even know where to begin.
Shutting and locking the room where Nico and I sleep is my first step to establishing space. It occurs to me this is a very omega-like thing to do, but I ignore it in favor of locking the bathroom door as well.
What’s next? Am I going to want to start nesting next?
This is fucking ridiculous! I don’t want to be an omega.
Pulling off my blood stained clothes, I toss them beside the hamper, not wanting to fuck up everything else. None of the blood is dry, so it could easily transfer to other things. My mind spirals as I think of how things manage to contaminate lives, and before I know it I'm curled in a ball having a fucking panic attack.
Being an omega is a problem. I’ve always been the weakest link in my pack, and now it’ll be worse. Between auctions who think manly omegas are fun to sell as slaves, to government experiments, the list of how many ways I could be used flood my mind.
