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“If you say that one more fucking time, like it makes it okay—like if she wasn’t, if she was just any old beta who I’d fallen for—then it would have been fine?”
“I want to make it right—”
“Then you can stay down here and make sure she never sees your fucking face, you piece of shit!”
I forced the memory from my mind as I tugged on my shoes in the foyer.
“Where are you going?” Ebony poked his head out of one of the offices. It was the second morning since we’d got Vex back, and still, she hadn’t asked to speak to me. The only consolation I had, was that she also hadn’t asked to speak to Ebony—as far as I knew.
“Out,” I snapped.
“Where?” Ebony demanded.
“It’s my fucking—” I shook my head. “Doesn’t matter, I’ll be back later. It’s not an interview or… or anything…public.”
“Family meeting?” Ebony asked, eyes trailing the suit I’d put on. It was the only one I owned, and my pack was well aware I only wore it for one reason.
I shot him a glare. “Am Iallowedto leave for that?”
“I can’t imagine why you’dwantto.”
I ignored that, slamming the door to the garage behind me and crossing toward my BMW.
He didn’t get it and never would. Ebony hadn’t lost a wink of sleep when he’d dropped his mother from his life—though she’d made it easy. She lived on the other side of the country now, with no intention of bothering him. She’d turned up to Love’s door one day with train tickets for the two of them to start a new life.
The meaning had been painfully clear: Penelope Hightower considered herself a mother of only one son—and that son had made it clear he wouldn’t leave Ebony behind.
Buttheirmother was a different breed of stress. I couldn’t so easily rid myself of the pack that had raised me. They were an elite pack of mega famous musicians, and well-known enough that keeping a relationship—even for appearances—was beneficial. My stomach turned at the idea of being disowned by them like Ebony had been. Sometimes I wished I could care as little as he did.
As I made the drive, I found myself stuck, again, on the words Vex had written. Each time I thought of them, a different line stuck, sinking claws in and not letting me go.
Dear Rook: You were supposed to be better.
I wasn’t used to feeling this way. Drake may not believe me, but I wanted to fix it. I wanted to do better for her, if she’d just let me tell her that.
All the others were doing something. Drake and Love were with her—Love had offered her the princess bond for fuck’s sake. Ebony was busy with Leighton, but all I had were those phrases, all from her, all telling me how much I’d hurt her.
My mate.
And I didn’t know how to fucking fix it.
I arrived at the get together already high strung. The meeting was at a restaurant so high end it didn’t even have a menu. The Stallion was a favourite spot for the Harrison Pack.
I was led to a table with a cream table cloth, golden ornaments and cutlery, and three people seated at it: two of my pack dads and my mother with a few plates of Hors D’oeuvres.
Fuck.
There was no one else, and no seating available for any of the eight siblings to join. I dropped into the seat, a scowl on my face.
Thiswas a goddamned ambush.
Felix was the pack lead, and Benjamin was my biological father, so it made sense it was the two of them. Plus, I knew Lucas and Philip were out of the country for a concert this week.
My mother, the world renowned singer, Goldie Harrison, was wearing one of her signature cream dresses that perfectly contrasted her rich, dark skin and bright eyes—both of which I’d inherited. Her scent of cinnamon buttercream never failed to comfort me, even when she was getting on my nerves.
“It’s been a while, Rook,” she said. “You look terrible.”
I grimaced. “Thanks, mom.”
