Page 38

REMI

Why is he here?

I try my best to ignore him, but his presence takes up the entirety of Sip-A-Brew. And all he’s doing is sitting in the corner, nursing a cup of coffee with one creamer and three sugars.

It’s not important that you know his order by heart. Not important at all. You remember a lot of people’s orders by heart.

My eyes flick toward him once more to find he’s already staring at me over the rim of his cup. I can’t see it, but I know he smiles behind his cup because his eyes crinkle in the corners. There’s also this light that shines through his cerulean eyes.

I roll my eyes and get back to clearing off tables. I’m nearly complete when another alpha enters the coffee shop. His presence feels stifling and unsettling. I don’t know why, but I really don’t want to be around this alpha.

“Charlene, can you grab this man’s order?” I call out. When I look in her direction, she gives me a look as if to say, “But he’s going toward your section.”

Sighing, I leave the cleaning supplies where it is and head toward his table. He looks me up and down, his eyes eating up every inch of my body. It makes me sick to my stomach, his beady eyes eating me up as if I’m a piece of meat.

It's different when one of the guys looks at me. On them, it’s fiery and passionate. On this alpha, it looks like slime.

“Can I take your order?” I ask.

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he sits there in silence, letting the seconds stretch uncomfortably between us. His gaze crawls over me once more—slow, deliberate, like oil slicking down my skin.

Every inch he devours with those beady eyes makes my insides coil, and I can feel the weight of his attention pressing against me, heavy and unwelcome. The silence lingers, thickening the air, until I have to clench my jaw just to keep from shuddering.

My eyes flick over toward Boone again, watching as he places his cup on the table, his eyes trained on the alpha currently creeping me out. I plead with him with my eyes to save me. I don’t know why, either. Boone can’t save me. I don’t trust him to.

To my amazement, he stands up. However, right when he goes to move, Charlene chooses that moment to come and ask him if he wants anything else.

His eyes train on her, taking on a mean, scathing look.

He points in my direction, speaking to her in hushed tones.

Charlene looks perfectly scolded by the time she moves away from his table.

I don’t know why, but that makes me a little warm inside to know he’d rather scold someone than take his eyes off me.

“Did you hear me?” the alpha asks, his tone brisk and unnerving.

I blink, coming back to the present. “I’m sorry. What was that?”

He smirks. “I said, I don’t know why my packmate wanted you. You’re not all that much to look at.”

My heart stalls. “Excuse me?”

He leans forward, pressing his forearms against the table. “You heard me.”

“I’m pretty sure I heard wrong because I haven’t been with anyone who isn’t my mate.”

Good way to throw the mate card out there, Remi, even though you’re pissed off and want nothing to do with them.

“I see no marks,” he says, peering down at my neck. “Are they real or inside your head?”

Before I can reply, a dark voice inserts itself into the conversation, garnering a shiver up my spine at the hostility in his voice. “I assure you, her mates are real.”

The alpha’s eyes flick over to Boone, as do mine. I’m taken aback by the darkness swirling within his gaze and the way his hands fist by his sides.

“Oh, look, a little bitty boy,” the alpha taunts.

Boone smirks. “Would you like to find out just how much of a big boy I am?”

The alpha laughs, cruel and menacing. “Sure, short shit. Let’s go.”

At that moment, the door to Sip-A-Brew opens. Tripp comes walking inside, his leather jacket stretching taut over his muscles and making him look delicious.

“No, Dennis, but I sure as shit would.”

The alpha I now know as Dennis glances over his shoulder, eyes turning even harsher. “Tripp Lancaster? Well, hell, I should’ve known you’d take a fat ass as your mate.”

“Say. That. One. More. Time.” Tripp steps up to the table, placing his fists down on it, knuckles first. He leans in. “I fucking dare you to talk about my mate like that again.”

“Or what?” Dennis challenges.

“Want a repeat of high school?” Tripp asks, cocking his head to the side. “I don’t mind one bit reminding you which of us is more dominant.”

Dennis growls, eyes turning even darker and harsher. He gets up from the table, coming chest to chest with Tripp. He doesn’t back down, but he doesn’t make a move to do anything else, either. I’d dare say he was afraid of Tripp if the tiny look in his eyes mean anything.

“She won’t be protected forever.” He smirks cruelly. “Better watch her back or … maybe something will happen to her.”

I gasp, shocked. “You’re pure evil.”

“You haven’t seen anything yet, doll,” he says, shooting a glare toward me. “You have a broken nose and wounded pride to pay for.”

I know instantly he’s talking about the alpha from the other night. I still don’t know what happened there. All I know is he went to the bathroom. I followed. Then, he came out of the bathroom with a bloody face and tears in his eyes.

Other than that, I know nothing.

But I’ll be damned if I ask them about it. I’m mad at all of them, and I refuse to give in until I’m well and truly ready to hear their shit.

Without speaking to them or thanking them for saving me, I turn around and make my way back toward the cleaning supplies. I take the rag in my hand, wiping down a table, before I take the container full of cups and plates with me to the back of the coffee shop.

Charlene follows.

“I’m so sorry! If I’d known, I would’ve taken care of him instead.”

I give her a look. “I shouldn’t have had to ask, Char. How many times have I taken your tables without complaint? And even then, you weren’t doing anything; you just didn’t want to wait on someone. I legitimately got weird vibes from that dude, and you just ignored it.”

“Please, don’t be mad at me,” she whines, grabbing my hands in hers.

I sigh. “I’m not mad at you, per se. I’m mad at the situation.” I let the silence extend between us before pulling her toward the door. I point at Tripp and Boone. “Do you see those alphas out there?”

She moans. “Yes, they’re scrumptious.”

“Well, they’re my scent match mates.”

Charlene chokes. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—”

I wave her away. “It’s okay. I know they’re gorgeous.”

“Why do I get the feeling there’s a ‘but’ in there somewhere?” she asks, peering back at me.

I look into her chocolate brown eyes, smiling. “That’s because there is. They may be my mates, but they really hurt me, especially their First Alpha.”

“There’s another one?” she gleefully squeals.

I nod. “His name is Knox Hastings.”

Her eyes widen. “The senator’s son?! The same one running for Mayor? That’s the pack you’re talking about?”

“The very same one. He’s the one who did me dirty and pulled the other two into it until they hurt me so bad that it left invisible marks. They may be my scent match mates, but I want nothing to do with them, even if they did save me.”

She turns toward the door, sighing in awe. “Seems like such a waste of gorgeousness.”

The only thing I can do is nod. It is a waste because, right now, I’d rather be alone than put up with the stuff they put me through.

What Tripp did to me hurt the most. He caught me with my guard down and went in for the kill.

He did so on Knox’s order and succeeded in tearing me down until I was nothing more than an embarrassed pile of sludge.

Charlene’s lips press together with sudden resolve. Her earlier awe is gone, replaced by a protective fire that flickers in her gaze. She squares her shoulders, brushing an errant strand of hair behind her ear.

“I’ll go ask them to leave,” she says, voice gentle but edged with iron.

Without waiting for my response, she pushes the door open, each step radiating the fierce loyalty that makes her my friend—no matter what storms wait just outside the door.

I watch behind the protection of the door as she steps up to them. She puts her hand on her hip, cocking it to the side, as she tosses her hair over her shoulder. I see her head shaking and know she’s giving them a piece of her mind. Only, they don’t do what I expect.

They don’t leave.

Instead, they sit back down at the table Boone vacated previously, leaving Charlene there with her arms hanging down by her sides in shock. She turns and looks over her shoulder, meeting my gaze. I can see the disbelief in her eyes, even as she flicks her gaze back over toward my mates.

Not your mates, Remi. They’re not your mates.

Charlene lingers a moment longer, jaw set in silent protest, before she whirls around and strides back into the back room.

Her steps are sharp, a soft click of indignation in every heel.

She swings the door shut behind her with a little more force than necessary, turning to face me with hands flung outward in exasperation.

“They refuse to leave. Like, what?” she says, her voice pitched half between utter disbelief and growing annoyance.

She throws herself into a chair, letting out a huff that sounds like the steam from a boiling kettle.

“Honestly, Remi. I’ve never seen so much stubbornness in one room—except maybe right here.

” Her eyes soften as she glances at me, but her frustration lingers, hanging thick in the air between us.

“Stubbornness?” I ask, getting angry.

She gives me a chiding look. “You know as good as I do that you’re about as stubborn as they come.”

I think about it for a minute, then nod. “Yeah. You’re right. I am pretty stubborn.”

“What did they do anyway to make you so against being with them?”

I don’t want to tell her.

But I do.

I tell her everything they put me through and what they did at Luscious. I go into great depth on some things and skim over others, especially when Tripp and I mated. I don’t want to get into that too much. It is too personal.

“Oh, those dicks,” she crows, crossing her arms, angry on my behalf.

“Right?” I ask, nodding.

Charlene leans back in her chair, her arms still folded tight across her chest. The anger in her expression flickers, replaced by a distant look as she gazes past me, her eyes tracking something invisible on the far wall.

For a few heartbeats, the only sound in the room is the tick of the clock and the hush of our breathing.

Her jaw works—silent, stubborn, considering.

Then she sighs, the sound softer now, almost thoughtful. “You know, there could be a good reason why Knox did what he did.”

Her words take me completely off guard. “What could possibly be the reason?”

“I don’t know, but from what I know of Knox Hastings, it doesn’t sound like him.”

Charlene’s words hang in the air, hesitant but unyielding. I stare at her, uncertain if I should defend my anger or just let it stew. A faint tension builds between us, stretching the quiet.

She shifts, uncrossing her arms and drumming her fingers on the armrest. “People surprise us. Maybe there’s something you’re missing. Some piece you haven’t seen yet.”

I want to argue, to insist that I’ve seen all I need to see, but doubt creeps in on the edges. I frown, picking at a loose thread on my sleeve.

“Maybe,” I say quietly, the word tasting foreign. “But it doesn’t erase what happened.”

Charlene offers a small, lopsided smile as if she knows I’m not ready to let go—yet. “No, it doesn’t. But sometimes the story isn’t finished.”

The clock ticks on, marking time as I wrestle with the possibility that maybe, just maybe, I don’t have the whole story after all.

Yet, in a small part of my mind, there’s the thought that the pain I have been through could happen again if I allow it. I’ve been through pain all my life in some form or fashion, and I’m sick of letting the pain drive me to be who I am.

Pain is a reflection of taunting words and endless sorrow. It’s a part of who we are on the inside, which makes us who we are on the outside.

However, pain is also a good reminder to avoid that trap again.