Page 16 of Rugged Hearts: Part One
Dr. Sullivan looks surprised by that question, I guess it was a little random. “Your privacy would be protected but yes this isn’t a typical case and the doctor overseeing your treatment may want to report on it for research purposes. Similar to the cases I’ve already found.”
I can’t risk that. I shouldn’t even risk going to a hospital. What if they somehow track down Sophie and they come up here. That would lead him right to me.“I can’t go to the hospital for this heat. I need to ride it out at home, can you prescribe something to help keep my temperature in check?”
“You haven’t heard anything I’ve said; almost every case ended up in the hospital. This is as serious as you can get. You cannot ‘ride this out,’” he says almost mockingly.
“Well, I appreciate your input doctor,” I stress sarcastically, “but I make my own decisions on what I think is best. Now I ask you to leave. Next time you have something to discuss, call me into your office instead of coming unannounced to my home.” I stand up and move to the door, hoping he leaves without issue.
He looks so taken back it makes me feel bad, just a little. But no, screw him he’s acting so righteous. He has no idea what I have to consider when it comes to this heat. I can’t riskhimfinding me. So, if that means suffering through this on my own I will.
He stands but doesn’t move to the door. “This is a life-or-death situation that is coming up sooner than later. You need to arrange your heat with the omega clinic and put the hospital on alert for your case. There is no scenario where you go through this heat alone and actually survive.” He says it with a finality that gives me goosebumps. As he walks towards me, I’m hit with his scentagain and I refuse to let an alpha who smells good, not just good like fucking heaven, change my mind.
“I’ll take that into consideration.” I nearly hold my breath as I open the door for him to leave. He walks through and turns around to face me now that he’s outside. He doesn’t say anything, just looks at me so seriously but there’s a softness to his green eyes that draw me in. After a minute he gives the slightest of nods and walks down the steps and over to his car.
Closing the door, I lean my head against it. How am I going to get through this? I don’t want to die.That’s not true,a tiny voice in the back of my mind whispers to me. It’s coming from that box where everything from before seems to be leaking out lately. In my lowest moment, shortly after Connor’s death, I considered joining him. It was a fleeting thought but it happened. I couldn’t do that to Sophie and her pack. Back then I didn’t see much reason beyond that but it was enough to keep me from ever letting that thought take root. Do I risk dying to avoid him finding me? I don’t see another way. There’s absolutely no chance I am going to try the omega clinic and be with strangers. I don’t have it in me for that. I need to do some research and figure out what I can do on my own to keep my temperature down. Thinking back on Dr. Sullivan, my bravado is gone. I do feel bad for how I acted but wow did he trigger me when he acted like I was stupid.It doesn’t matter if I’m hiding from a stalker, I’m done dealing with people treating me like that.
16
LIAM
Infuriating, stubborn omegas will be the death of me. I can’t believe she said she’s going to ride it out herself. I scoff thinking back on it. It’s like she didn’t hear anything I said. I’m gripping the steering wheel so tight as I drive home. I didn’t even get a chance to tell her that her heat is due at the end of January, which is less than three months away. Shewilldie if she isn’t looked after during her heat. That’s as plain as I can put it. Shaking my head, I get out of my car and head inside. It smells like someone is cooking. I have no desire to see any of my pack, especially considering most of them will just question me more on what’s wrong with her. I may be mad at her, but I won’t disregard her privacy.
“Whoa, who pissed in your cereal?” Eli jokes.
It’s then I realize I’m emitting a low growl. I never growl. Gods this omega really is going to drive me insane. “No one,” I say curtly, moving towards the kitchen, intent on grabbing a plate and going to my room. I hear Eli trailing behind me. Ben is in the kitchen cooking. At least something good is happening tonight. Ben is the best cook in the pack. Well, after Micah but he refuses to cook since the whole Amber situation. Ben turns to me just as I’m grabbing a plate from the cabinet.
“How did it go?” he asks. I shrug, giving nothing up and moving towards the bowls of food he has prepared and begin adding some to my plate.
“Clearly our girl pissed off the good doctor. I am curious how she did it. It takes a lot to get under your skin,” Eli chimes in, sounding smug. I finish making my plate and move to leave but say, “We’re working things out, I’ll be in my room the rest of tonight. I have more research to do.”
I don’t hear what they say if anything as I leave. I weave through the house to the back stairs and up to my room. Sitting at my overloaded desk, I eat my dinner, all the while wondering why she is so against the hospital. I understand a lot of people don’t like hospitals but it felt like something else was going on. She asked if her case would be reported on, which again, I understand she doesn’t want to be involved in that but it shouldn’t be enough to prevent her getting treatment. Opening my laptop, I decide to do more research and see if there are any other cases of omegas being able to deal with this at home. I need to find something to change her mind, or at least let her see how dangerous this really will be on her own.
17
THEA
It’s been a few days since my talk with Dr. Sullivan. Work is continuing to slow down much to my dismay. Ever since that talk, I’ve been sleeping terribly, dreaming of Connor and our time together before all of this. I know why he’s so much on my mind; the one-year anniversary of his death is just over a week away now. When I think too long on it, I can feel the panic taking over and I can’t allow that to happen. I originally had that day off but swapped it for another. I can’t think of dealing with the anniversary being home alone with just my own thoughts for company. Ineedto stay busy, so I’m not sitting in my cart with tears slowly rolling down my face, again. I don’t know what it is about this place but that mental box I keep shoving down and away has been breaking little by little since I got here.
It’s now my end of shift ritual, after finishing the last cabin. I park in between two of the Andromeda cabins, one of them being the one closed down for renovations, and look out at the woods surrounding this place or the lake in the opposite direction. No one is staying in the other cabin so it’s been the perfect spot for me to be alone and enjoy the scenery. Part of me wants to just go walk into the woods and scream my heart out—that thought usually comes up when I’m getting emotional. Liketoday. At least I’m not panicking. Every time I break down it’s gotten easier to deal with, at least physically. I’m sure a psychologist would tell me exactly why that is but either way I’m glad I don’t have to worry about hyperventilating. I don’t cry every time I come to this spot. It depends how much my mental boxes are cracking that day. Today was hard. I was in the main lodge when I caught a scent that reminded me of Connor. I have no idea who it belonged to but it was enough to trigger me and have me running out of that place like it was on fire.
Crunch. Crunch,is all I hear before someone mutters, “Need your help again.”
Turning my head slightly from where it’s rested on the seat headrest, I see Keelan standing next to the cart. Well, more like leaning—no, squatting—down to my level. He really is insanely tall. Again, he says it, not a question or a demand, just a statement. Leaving it open for me to decide where to go. Itdidhelp last time. Decision made, I move to get out and follow him to the cabin. He steps aside, giving me space and instead of leading me, he walks at my side. I glance up at him to see him looking straight ahead. His dirty blond hair is pushed back with a few pieces falling in his face. His beard is thick but neatly trimmed. He looks like a woodsman out of one of the romance books I’ve read. If I see him chopping wood I don’t know if I’d swoon or laugh at how fitting it is.
When we get onto the porch he walks over to some tools, grabbing them and something else I can’t see. I just kind of stand there, waiting for him to tell me what needs to be done. I don’t know if it’s just with me or him in general that he’s not much of a talker but I’m okay with that. It’s nice not having every moment filled with something. He returns and places his hand on the center of my back, so lightly I barely feel it. It’s like he’s afraid to touch me. I look up at him, slightly surprised. Other than that doctor’s appointment no one has really touched me in any way beyond a handshake. The omega in me wants to lean into his touch so badly. But that would be so inappropriate since I barelyknow him. I look into his eyes, admiring how the light is hitting them just right where they look like golden amber. They’re beautiful. His oak scent is surrounding me, making my body feel more relaxed than I thought possible especially after crying a few minutes ago. He never comments on the obvious fact that I’ve been crying.
With the faintest pressure to my back, he leads me over to one of the porch chairs and gestures for me to sit, which I do. Wow uhm, he always feels like a giant when we’re both standing next to each other but now I feel like a child looking up at him from this seated position. I’m definitely confused on what we’re doing but sheesh, I’m not used to being around men so much bigger than me. It really was just Connor and his dad Max that would make me feel that way but not to this extreme. Keelan is bigger than both of them in muscle and height. I feel like I should be intimidated, right? It’s not like I really know him but all I feel is safe. Something must be wrong with me.
Keelan extends his hand that’s holding a piece of wood for me to take, which I do. I look back up to him questioningly but before I can say anything he’s handing me some kind of tool. “Carve something,” he says softly as he goes to leave.
I’m so confused. “Wait! How do you use this?” I asked hurriedly.
He looks at me, then the tool in my hand then back at me, seeming to come to some sort of realization. He walks back over, squatting down to my level and showing me how to use it to slowly peel away bits of the wood. It’s simple enough. Maybe he didn’t consider I would have no idea what this tool is. He gets up and goes to the other side of the porch to continue working. I both enjoy the fact that he doesn’t talk a lot but also hate it because he’s so confusing and it makes me want to know more about him.
Smiling to myself, I begin working on carving the piece of wood. I don’t really know what I’m making. As time goes by, I find myself lost in this project, my thoughts continuously circling back to Keelan. I really appreciate that he doesn’t ask me what’swrong when he finds me crying in my little cart. It never feels like he doesn’t care, more like he knows asking me is the last thing I need in those moments. It’s nice to have someone just understand that. Most people would want to help and dig deeper into what the problem is but I just can’t go there. That makes me think of Connor’s mom, Sophie. I love her but she’d totally be that person. The little bit I let out in these moments alone seem to be the most I can handle. I’m afraid what will happen if I ever just say fuck it and let everything I’ve been bottling up over the last year out. A tiny part of me wants to do that so badly. The mental energy of pushing and pushing it down every single day is exhausting.
Ever since I got here it’s felt like all those boxes I locked everything away in have been cracking, letting things out I don’t want to face head-on. I have a feeling that sooner or later they’ll break open eventually in some big emotional explosion I won’t be ready for. That’s nearly what happened on Connor’s birthday back in Chicago. I’ve been hoping these moments where I’ve let a little bit of it out has eased the pressure but my gut says that’s not the case. The best way to avoid all of that is to keep busy. I need to see if Rebecca will give me some overtime; I doubt it, especially when the busy season just ended. Or maybe I can find a second job somewhere in town. I need more of those days where I’m so busy working and exhausted by the end of the day I don’t have the energy to think deeply about anything beyond dinner and going to sleep.
I’m so lost in my head I don’t even notice what I’ve been carving. It’s an extremely crude shape of a heart. It makes me smile even with its roughness. Maybe it’s how my own heart looks right about now. The barely-there smile falls from my face; it’d be a shattered heart if it really were to look how mine is right now. The pile of wood shavings scattered at my feet is truer to my own heart. Anyways, I guess this would make a good paperweight or something. I have no idea what kind of wood this is but after working on it, it’s almost white. Amber eyes pop in my mind and I look over, seeing Keelan working on one of the banisters, in hisown world. I can see the appeal this kind of work has because it’s almost meditative. The color of his eyes would look so pretty for this heart. I wonder if there’s a wood stain that would match them.