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Chapter Eighteen
Calai
I eye the strangers that insist I’m family and don’t bother trying very hard to pretend I’m happy about it. From the reading I’ve done on my apparent designation, omegas are supposed to be somewhat weak and emotional.
I’m definitely emotional, but that’s likely due to my entire life being so wholly upended in a short amount of time.
I feel Colter’s hand in mine, and I get some scary thoughts in my head. Somelovetype thoughts.
I’ve known these men maybe a week; I’m going to be honest and say I have no idea how many days have passed since I left the compound. I don’t know how many times I’ve woken up to a nightmare of Eln’s death replaying in my head, how many times I’ve looked at one of my alphas and lusted for them, or how many times I’ve wondered what might have happened if I had been left to live my life in peace where they found me.
Would I ever know what I was missing out on? Or would the herbs that Great Mother gave us continue to suppress these more intense things I’m feeling?
Parker starts knee walking towards me, his alphas eyeing me in a way that makes me slightly uncomfortable. I know they’re all bonded and happy, if their violence towards James was anything to go by, but they’re so growly, and I think seeing another omega that looks so similar to their mate is making them a little bit…impulsive.
Parker keeps his head down, submissive, likeIshould be, and I watch him, wondering what he’ll do. I haven’t been chatty during this talk with him and my father, who collapsed and tried to hug me the second Kit opened the door for him a little bit ago.
I had no problem hiding behind my alphas though, because so far they’ve kept me safe. I don’t know the other man.
“I respect that you would like to continue to be called Calai,” he says softly. He pulls a folded piece of paper from his pocket and opens it, showing it to me. “I was trying to do some research, because I want to help you remember who you were before you were kidnapped from that playground.
“I don’t think I mentioned it before, but the reason I work at the library is because mom used to. I’ve got that day etched into my soul, Calai. Mom was putting away the last cart of books for the day and we were so bored that we begged her to let us go play at the park next door while she finished. It was a safe neighborhood. A small town. We knew everyone.
“We were only there ten minutes. I’ve blamed myself all these years, because I couldn’t keep you safe. I’m your brother, and I should have-”
I stop him, taking his hand in mine. I can see the toxic guilt staining his soul, and I need to erase it. If only because his eyes are literal twins to mine and seeing all the pain swirling around in their brown depths has me echoing that pain. It’s almost as if seeing his emotions makes me feel them, too.
“It’s not your fault. We were kids. It’s not mother’s fault. We should have been safe. I’ve been struggling this past week, because what I know of the woman that more or less raised me in that compound, is harsh discipline and high demands of my accomplishments.
“There were times I felt special, that maybe she was fond of me, but I was indoctrinated to think she was this amazing being that took all these lonely girls and sculpted them into something more. She was almost like a god to me. When I found out what she did to James, what she had planned for him…” I gulp and swallow, needing to look at my alpha to ensure that he was still with me. “It was hard to reconcile that evil person with who is presiding over the compound.
“Now that I know how I got there and have theories about why I don’t remember my time before, I wonder how many other lives she’s ruined in her mad quest. I’m only one story of many, so I feel as if I can’t let the weight of the world tip me over.
“I see the way you think that you could have somehow prevented me from leaving you, but you never could have. I was always going to end up taken by her, because she must have known somehow what I was.
“She got me in her sights, and she made a decision. We can only place blame on her.Sheis the person that broke our family,” I say, wincing at the word because it’s so unfamiliar. “Hateher. Grieve time lost together, butplease, don’t let it affect how you treat me going forward.
“I haven’t broken yet, no matter how many bricks stack on top of my head. I think that one day I’ll be able to think of my time there with out so much pain and fury, but today is not that day.”
I glance at the drawing Parker’s grasping, a hastily sketched rocket ship done in crayon with two brown-skinned children smiling out of its window. Our smiles are literally bigger than our faces, and I don’t remember it, but I can almost imagine how it might have been to have someone so close to me to go on imaginary adventures with.
I didn’t get to play at the compound. I was raised to be a miniature adult until my physical appearance matched my attitude. This whimsical crude art hurts me to see, because the kid that drew this probably had nothing to worry her.
“I want us to be close again. I always knew I’d find you again, someday, and it kind of feels like I’m sitting in front of a ghost, but you’re too warm to be a specter. You’re too beautiful to not be real.”
“Isn’t that just admitting you’re attractive too, since we have the same face?” I ask with a small tilt of my lip that catches me off guard. What was this feeling trying to bubble up inside of me? It’s been happening more and more, but it’s foreign to me. Was it possible I was feeling…happiness?
I think the ‘L’ word again because if Iamhappy, it's mostly due to my self-proclaimed mates; but opening that part of me up in such way makes me nervous. I think I snapped them out of their asshole alpha behaviors, but what if they’re simply biding their time until they think I’m a more permanent fixture in their lives?
“I said what I said,” Parker says back cheekily. The smile on my face grows.
I can feel the heat of August’s gaze on me, and I’ve been avoiding him. Seeing him made me think about being against that tree, feeling the way he arched into me without even touching me. He was off-limits. I had my alphas, and that was more than I needed.
“What did you find in your research?” I prompt Parker, trying to stay engaged with him.
“I read that music is powerful. That it can invoke strong, emotional memories. So we’ll have to have a cartoon marathon at some point. Somehow those theme songs from our childhood still wend their way into my mind and lodge themselves into place at the most inconvenient times.”
I listen to him go on, listing different ways to help me- visiting places, which I think we can agree definitely works, looking at pictures and memorabilia, hearing stories…but I watch his hands move more than I listen to his words.
