Page 100 of Bitter Truths

I hesitate, anxiety coiling beneath my ribs. “Won’t your fathers be there?”

“They won’t get close enough to matter,” Tristan assures me, confidence unshakable. “Trust me, I’ve considered every angle. We’ll make sure you’re protected.”

My phone buzzes against the marble. I have messages from Mom and Ezra.

Shit. The real world hasn’t stopped just because I’ve been wrapped up in them.

Guilt twists sharply in my chest. I can’t lose myself in them again… not with Whitney returning soon, and not when this is just temporary, no matter how desperately I wish it wasn’t.

It’s all about to go poof… and we all know it.

“So?” Freddie asks, anticipation brightening his face. “Hotel? Tonight?”

My throat constricts, want and dread twining together. Every rational instinct screams to run, but my body betrays me, leaning toward them like they generate their own gravity. The decision tears free before reason can intercede.

“What do I need to do?”

Relief ripples through the room.

“A car will pick you up at seven,” Weller says, instantly shifting to planning mode. “Coffee shop across from the hospital. The driver will bring you through the service entry.”

“Hair up, hat on,” Tristan adds, leaning closer until his knee presses mine again. “Simple disguise. Hotel staff won’t notice you.”

“We’ll have a suite far from the meeting floors,” Freddie adds, reassurance warming his voice.

Every rational thought screams that this is a bad idea. Whitney will be back soon. But spending the night with them is too tempting.

“Fine,” I sigh. “But if this ends with me in a suitcase, I’ll haunt all of you.”

Freddie pales, but Owen lets out a low laugh, the sound rich and dark. Tristan’s mouth quirks upward, amusement dancing in his eyes. Only Weller remains stone-faced, his gaze intense as he leans forward.

“No one is going to touch you, but we’ll need to communicate carefully,” Weller says, pulling a small black phone from his jacket. “Burner. Our regular phones are monitored.”

Monitored. Reality crashes back.

I take the phone as he shows me the single number programmed into it. “Only use this for our communications.”

“Got it.”

My regular phone buzzes again. Megan’s text this time.

They must be in town today getting supplies.

Guilt digs deeper as I think about the refuge… about the people who’ve been my family these past five years.

I need to update Ezra and Megan, appease my mother, juggle my revenge plots, and somehow prevent everything from collapsing around me.

“I should get to the hospital,” I say, sliding off the stool.

What I don’t mention are my other errands planned for today. Errands involving flowers, duct tape, and three unsuspecting omegas who have no idea what’s coming.

“Car will be ready in ten,” Weller says, already making calls.

Tonight, I’ll walk straight into emotional quicksand. But staying away isn’t an option anymore.

* * *

My stomach churns with each ding as I get closer to my brother’s hospital floor.