Page 23 of In Doubt
“They’ll drag us out of this trench quicker than you can say Bob’s your uncle, and dig it up themselves. This was our find. I want to lift it out of the earth.”
Again with the ‘we’? Is he trying to win me over to his way of thinking with flattery?
“I don’t want to get in trouble. I don’t want to be fired from this dig.” I stand up, and strip off my gloves. “I’m going to fetch Professor Weaver.”
I step towards the edge of the trench.
“Omega! No!” he barks and automatically every muscle, every tendon, in my body tenses. I freeze in my tracks.
Then my rational brain kicks in and I compute what the hell he just did.
He fuckingbarkedat me.
Jake Grantham and I have exchanged plenty of cross words. But never, ever, has he barked at me.
I spin on my heels, and glare at him so hard it surprises me that my eyes don’t pop out of their sockets.
“Oh no, you didn’t?” I snarl at him, so angry my blood feels like it’s boiling in my veins.
“Didn’t what?” he asks, meeting my pissed off tone with his own.
“Bark at me!” I’m so outraged I’m shaking, my nails pinching my palms as I ball up my fists. I won’t let an alpha do that to me again; control me, play on my subconscious instinct to obey.
I was beginning to think … an inkling that maybe … I’d been wrong about him. This day and a half together is the first time we’ve ever really talked, ever actually spent time in each other’s company. He’s been grumpy, true, but kind, sweet, funny too.
But now it’s clear I’d just been falling under the spell of his charm.
I was right about him all along.
He clambers to his feet, towering above me, and I’m reminded how big he is, how vulnerable I am.
My throat constricts, and suddenly this trench is very small and the air is so hot.
“Bark?” His face pales. “Giorgie, I didn’t–”
“You did,” my voice falters as I say the words and I’m shaking for a different reason now. Fear.
This is why I’ve kept the fuck away from this alpha. I can’t trust him.
I turn around and reach up to the top of the trench, my fingers sinking into the earth as I attempt to pull myself out. My boots scrape against the edge and I hardly move. I slide back down to the bottom. My arms are shaking. The first tear skids down my face.
I want to get away. I need to get away.
“Giorgie,” the alpha says. “I really didn’t mean to snap at you…a bark…it isn’t something I would ever …” His words trail away as I try once again to heave myself out. “Let me help you out.” I can feel him draw closer.
“No!” I cry. “Keep your hands off me. I’ll scream.”
He steps backwards. “Shit!” he mumbles, “Giorgie, I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean to.”
I kick my toe into the wall of the trench. Soil tumbles to the ground. I kick a second and third time until I have enough of a hole to rest my foot in. This time I can reach higher and I scramble over the edge of the trench, landing on my stomach with a harrumph. I don’t give myself time to recover, swinging my legs and scuttling away.
He doesn’t call out to me. Doesn’t try to convince me not to find the professor. I stumble along the path, the sun fierce on my head even through my hat. My breathing and my pulse calm as I walk, and I inhale the fresh air, driving away that oppressive scent, and wiping the tears from my face.
Did I overreact? My mind can’t help snapping back to that other time. That bark. That scent. That betrayal.
That alpha.
I shake my head and try to focus on the surrounding wonderment. I don’t want one stupid decision, one awful moment in time to colour everything that comes after, to ruin everything else in my life. Yet it always does. Italwaysdoes.
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