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“I’ll do everything I can to find your sister, Everleigh,” I say, turning away.
I take two steps before she calls out, “Della. My sister’s name is Dellaney, but I always called her Della. She liked it better.”
The love—and the pain—is right there in her soft voice. I hope to fuck the sister wasn’t a part of this as well.
I peer over my shoulder. “When was the last time you saw her?”
She swallows, looking away. “A year ago. When Lawrence came to get me. I was…” Her voice trails off. “I wasn’t aware of much then. So I don’t know if she was…”
Involved.
“You never saw her again?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “She never came to Lawrence’s house in the year I was with him.”
I note the distinction. Notherhouse.Lawrence’s.
“There’s a good chance I’m going to find out things you might not want to know. If you have any doubts, now would be the time to voice them,” I gently warn her.
I don’t want to hurt her, but I might uncover things like maybe the sister she loves might’ve been involved in her winding up as Lawrence’s omega.
She stares at the floor for so long that I don’t think she’ll answer.
“My mind will never be quiet until I learn the truth.” She lifts her head and stares me dead in the eye. A strength—and a determination—I hadn’t been expecting from an abused omega who flinches from alphas glints at me.
“If the woman who raised me wasn’t my real mom, I need to know. I need to know my sister didn’t play a part in that. Even if it hurts—maybe because I know itwillhurt—I need to know the truth.”
I nod. “You’ll get your truth. As much of it as I can find. Maybe, along the way, I can learn to do something about these two left feet.” Turning, I walk away, focused on how I’m going to track down Della and discover why someone would sell Everleigh.
“I’m not a Haven girl to teach you to dance gracefully,” she calls after me.
I pause for a beat. “No. Your grace is innate. It’s the way you move. No one can teach that. Two dances. When I have something, I’ll call in one of my markers.”
“And you’ll tell me about the fake Rolex?”
“I’ll tell you about the fake Rolex, little omega,” I echo. It’s not a good story, but if it helps quieten Everleigh’s fear, I’ll rip every scar in me wide open.
“Why do you call me little omega?”
I don’t know where the name came from. It seemed to pour out of my mouth when I saw her. Had my subconscious recognized Everleigh was ours? Maybe. Because I have never given an omega—or anyone—a nickname before. Not until now.
I shrug, keeping my back to her. “It just slipped out. If you want me to stop, I’ll stop.”
She’s silent. “You don’t call any other omega that?”
I shake my head, still not turning to face her. “Just you.”
She’s silent for a little longer, then she clears her throat. “I don’t mind it.”
But I hear the pleasure she tries to hide. She likes that the nickname is hers andonlyhers. “Then it will stay just yours.”
“Until I leave and you find your omega,” she says.
We’ve already found her. You.
“That nickname will only ever belong to you,” I tell her and keep walking.
Before I hit the stairs, the door clicks shut behind me, and I glance over my shoulder.
