Page 33 of Wolf It Down, Knot Me Up

Ethan clears his throat and gives me a look that says I need to shut up.

“Ms. Rose.” Mr. Colby’s tone remains monotone. “I can’t change the rules. The pills can only be issued by evidence of fault. Otherwise, there’s no basis for its approval.”

I sit with my coffee going cold in my hands.

After a few moments of silence between us, he sighs. “You’re not ready to decide,” Mr. Colby states. “You have until tomorrow morning. Let’s meet mid-morning at the hospital with your grandmother for the final decision. If you decide to accept the suppressants, then we’ll collect Mr. Alvec, and in all likelihood all three men, for return to the prison right after.” He gets to his feet, straightens his jacket, grabs the briefcase, and takes out the handkerchief again. “Thank you for your time and your hospitality. We really do appreciate the work that places like yours do.”

I don’t say goodbye or stand up. I feel as though I’m drowning.

Ethan leads him out, and on the porch, they’re both murmuring. I can’t make out a word of it, but I don’t need to, because I’m convinced it’s about me.

I hug one of the cushions to my chest, breathing too quickly. There’s no way I’ll be the reason they get dragged back inside when Roman did nothing wrong.

Soon enough, Ethan’s striding back toward me. He drops onto the couch beside me and scrubs both hands down his face.

“That prick.” He looks over. “Sorry. He’s like that every visit. The rudeness, the notebook, the condescending tone.”

“I officially hate him.”

Ethan hooks an arm along the back of the couch, and I twist around to face him, tucking a bent leg under me. “Look. I’m going to say this once, and then I’ll shut up about it, because it’s your call and nobody else’s. Take the suppressants. Roman’s got, what, six months left? A year, with whatever they’d add. He’d do it. Then he’ll come out and be free, and you won’t be tied to a man you just met.”

“I-I can’t do that. It would make me the worst person in the world.” I press my mouth into the pillow. “I’m not going to be able to live inside my own head if I put a man in prison to make myself more comfortable. I’d think about it every single day and blame myself.” Not to mention, they might never speak to me again… my scent matches. God, this is so complicated.

He blows out a long breath. “Hey. No rush until tomorrow.”

I lift my head, meeting his gaze.

“What were they in prison for? I need to know.”

He nods. “Well, Roman got pulled into a heist in the city. He was sending every dollar he made at a dead-end job home to his mother and his sister in Brazil, and a gang who committed heists made the gig sound like a sure thing, but it went wrong. Nobody got hurt, except he got caught, and he wouldn’t hand over names.” Ethan’s lips pinched thinly, and my heart hurts. “Wolf comes from one of those big Southern families. Money, and the wrong kind. His own parents set him up in a drug case, and he didn’t fight it because the alternative was his father putting a bullet in his head.”

“Oh, shit.”

“And Grayson was in for assault. His Omega at the time was beat up badly, and she barely survived, but he tracked down the man who did it and made him pay severely. Came close to killing him. He had no one to help him, and even his mother wouldn’t turn up at the trial.” Ethan shrugs.

“That sucks so hard.”

“Yeah. They became a pack in prison, but I feel as though the universe put them together, seeing as they kinda got screwed up and over.”

Their stories keep twisting in my head, and they make my stomach sink.

I can’t get a full breath. My chest squeezes with shallow inhales. “Sounds like they keep getting the raw end of the deal to me.”

“That’s not your problem, Lucy. Think about yourself and what you’ve been through.”

I sigh, sinking into the couch, hugging the pillow harder. “I’ll think about it.”

“Please do.” Ethan’s hand settles between my shoulder blades and stays there. “Whatever you decide, I’m behind you.” He nudges me gently with his shoulder. “Just ask yourself, what would your grandma do?”

He draws me into a hug, and I rest my forehead on his shoulder, and that’s when I struggle to breathe because I know exactly what she’d do. She’d take the pills.

I remember her tears and her broken expression five years ago and how fast she wiped it dry when she saw me looking.

She would never let me go through that again. Not for anyone.

Not even for my scent match.

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