Page 21 of The Comfort of Pain (The Black Market Omega #1)

Beth

When I open my eyes, I have no idea what time it is, but the whole room is pitch black.

Killian is dead asleep, his body still wrapped around mine, and his breaths deep and even. I listen carefully, not hearing any other sound in the house. Everyone else must be asleep.

Good.

Moving very slowly, I wiggle out of Killian’s hold. His fingers curl around my waist for half a second, before releasing me. Once his hands fall away, I stay frozen in place, making sure he really is asleep, before slipping out of the bed.

Holding my hands out, I weave them through the darkness, trying to find the closet door. Finally, my fingers touch something round and metal. I turn the knob, hoping it’s not the bathroom. I’m relieved when my feet touch carpet.

I find my little stack of clothes and pull out the sturdiest pair of pants. They’re still too thin, and very soft, but they’ll have to do. Once I’m dressed and ready, I reach up and try to remove the pretty necklace Jeremy gave me. I can’t keep such a lovely gift. It would be rude. Trying to get the clasp to release, I push then pull, but it’s no use. It’s stuck, and I don’t have time to wrestle with the damn thing.

I guess I’m taking it with me.

Moving quietly, I tip-toe back through Killian’s room. My heart aches as I inch past the nesting cove, then past Killian.

I know it doesn’t make any sense to the alpha—or even to me—but I have to go home. I have to make sure my actions didn’t hurt my mom or brothers. I need to know they’re okay.

Hopefully, one day he’ll understand.

The rest of the house is silent as I make my way past Basil, then Tristan’s bedrooms. I hear Jeremy mumble in his sleep in Basil’s room, and it suddenly hits me that the beta doesn't have his own bedroom.

Focus , I scold myself.

All the lights are off in the living room, but the moon is very bright outside. It hangs heavy in the sky, shining down over the valley. I will miss that view.

I have to stand on my tiptoes to reach my supplies at the bottom of the vase. The wrappers around the granola bars crinkle as I shove them into my pocket. Then I go in for the tiny knife. My fingers graze the blade’s handle, and my feet slip. The vase wobbles and my heart seizes.

“Shit,” I whisper harshly, thankful when I catch it before it topples over. “You are too big,” I scold the vase as I hold the sides. Once I’m confident it’s back in place, I push my arm into the branches once more, finally grabbing the handle.

“Gotcha.” I hold the little knife up, admiring it. It’s not the best form of protection, but it’s more than I had when I left home. But then I realize I don’t have a sheath or a belt. I’m going to have to roam the woods with the damn thing sticking out of my waistband. This is a bad idea.

Maybe I should go back to bed.

Or crawl into my nest.

What the fuck am I doing?

“Hey,” Tristan’s deep voice rips through the silence, making me flinch so hard I almost drop the knife.

“What the fuck?” I spin, looking toward the empty hallway. But there’s no one there.

“Over here,” Tristan says from the other side of the kitchen island. He’s holding the container of leftover spaghetti in one hand and a fork in the other. Has he been there the whole time? “Why did you hide a knife in the vase?” he asks as he takes another bite.

I don’t have time to come up with a decent excuse, and there’s no way I’ll be able to run past the alpha, So instead, I do the first thing that pops into my head—I lift the knife and get into a defensive stance. “Don’t come any closer,” I snarl, praying I look at least a little fierce.

But Tristan doesn’t even blink. “Why hide the knife?” he asks again as he tosses the bowl and fork into the sink. They clank loudly and I tense, terrified he just woke up the whole house. “I’m assuming you’re running away. Right?” he asks like he couldn’t care less. “Why hide the teeny knife?” He rounds the kitchen island as he talks, “You could have grabbed any weapon directly from the kitchen right before you left.” He eyes my tiny blade. “You could have gotten something that will actually do some damage.”

I steady my feet, lifting the blade a little higher, and he pauses. But I seriously doubt it’s because he’s scared. “I didn’t want to waste time searching for a weapon,” I say. “I was trying not to make too much noise.” I don’t know why I’m answering his question, but I’m not sure what else to do.

“Okay.” Tristan rolls his eyes upward, thinking about that. Then he nods. “I guess that’s smart.”

His approval grips me, and a burst of pride blooms in my chest. “I need to go home,” I say firmly, but it’s more for me than him. Focus, Beth.

“Why?” Tristan asks, taking another step toward me.

“What?” I balk at his question. “Because they’re my family.” I’m sick of trying to explain this. “How does no one here understand this?” My voice rises slightly as my frustration grows. “Do alphas cut off their families the second they join a pack?” I snip.

“Kind of,” Tristan says like it’s no big deal. “I talk to my brother on occasion and Jeremy texts his mother pretty frequently, but once you find a pack, they become your new focus.” He’s talking to me like he’s trying to teach me a lesson. “Did you grow up visiting with aunts, uncles, and grandparents?”

I go still at his question, not sure how to answer. After a moment of thinking it over, I decide to go with the truth. “My mother misses her family every day. She told me many times she wished she could write to them, but my father cut us all off from the outside world.”

Tristan nods, looking at me, almost as if waiting for me to say more.

“Burke is a horrible pack alpha,” I try to explain myself. “He’s vicious and violent, and he’ll kill my mother if I don’t go home and protect her.”

“Why do you care about a bunch of people who abused you?” His casual tone slices through me, and my grip on the knife doubles.

“My mother didn’t abuse me,” I snarl. “Neither did my brothers.” I open my mouth to mention Tony and Scott as well, but for some reason, I can’t.

“They didn’t abuse you?” Tristan’s mouth pulls into a tight line, clearly stopping himself from saying something. I’m sure he’s thinking the same thing that Killian already said: They did nothing to help me. Nothing to stop the abuse.

“My father is a dangerous man,” I repeat, and my shoulder starts to ache. I want to lower the knife, but I’m worried that Tristan will rush me if I do. “I need to go home to protect?—”

“And who will protect you ?” the alpha cuts me off.

Anger shimmers just beneath my skin, and I huff loudly. “I don’t need protection. I need to go?—”

“Yeah, I know.” Tristan strolls toward me. “You need to go home.”

“Don’t move!” I command him, lifting the blade, ready to use it if I have to. But the alpha completely ignores me as he walks right past me. I turn my body, keeping him in front of me.

“I’ll tell you what.” He narrows his eyes as he scans the yard, then the mountains in the distance. “I’ll take you home.” He straightens his back, looking down at me as if gifting me a wonderful prize. “Let's go.”

Don’t trust him , my mind screams, but my heart is almost convinced. After all, this alpha has been very…I don’t know how to finish that thought. Protective? Kind? Patient?

“You’ll really take me home?” I ask, watching for a flicker in his eyes or a twitch of a muscle. Anything that might tell me that this is a trick.

“Yeah.” Tristan crosses his arms and shifts his weight. I hate how relaxed he looks right now. “I’ll take you to your parents’ house so you can see your mom.” Hope blooms in my chest. “Then I’ll kill that violent, piece-of-shit father of yours, have some dinner, then head back home.” He nods as if it’s the perfect plan. “You won’t have to worry about your mother again.” His tone is so light, I half-expect him to say, “ easy as pie”.

“No.” I shake my head, stunned by the horrible things he just said. “That’s not—I don’t—” I can’t find my words. “You can’t?—”

“I can’t what?” he asks simply. “I can’t protect my omega?”

Anger and defeat grip me and I lower the knife. “Stop?—”

Tristan’s hand flies out, snatching the knife out of my hand so fast it takes me a second to realize it’s gone. “Where do you live?” he asks a little more forcefully, and I back up. I’m defenseless. “You have to know.”

“I don’t know,” I whisper, staring at the tiny knife in his hand. It looks like a toy between his thick fingers.

“Bullshit,” he says with a lazy lift. “I refuse to believe that you were going to pick a direction and walk.” His dark eyes flicker toward the mountains. “You’re too smart for that.” He’s giving me too much credit.

I’m not smart.

If I were, I wouldn’t have talked back to my father every chance I got. I wouldn’t have snuck out to meet Linden. I wouldn’t have left my parent’s home that night.

“Beth?” Tristan leans down, bringing us eye to eye. His gaze flickers to my necklace, then back to my face. He’s probably judging me for keeping the pretty trinket, but I don’t feel like explaining that I tried to remove it. “Do you want to tell me where you live or do you want to go to bed?” There’s a slight alpha command in his tone, forcing me to make up my mind, but I can’t.

Because I don't know what I want.

“Let it go, omega.” Tristan finally says, when I don’t answer. “Your family will be fine without you.” He places his hand on the small of my back, urging me to walk. “There’s too much scary shit out there for a tiny thing like you to just wander.”

I stare at my feet, seething at my own stupidity.

He’s right.

He’s right about all of it, but I’ll be damned if I admit it.

“Go crawl in bed with Killian.” Tristan’s hand pushes gently against my back as he walks me past the couch. “I’ll be right there.” He moves back to the kitchen island and turns on the faucet. “Go.” He slips the tiny knife into his pocket before rinsing out his dirty bowl.

Defeat washes over me and I walk. The long hallway along the front of the house is dark. The only light streams in through a tiny window above the front door and the two narrow ones on either side.

Curious, I touch the doorknob as I pass, then I turn it. To my shock, it opens. It slowly swings, revealing the outside world inch by tortuous inch. I pause, listening for Tristan’s heavy feet, but the water keeps running, and he keeps washing.

The cool night air blows across my face, beckoning me outside. I take a single step onto the porch and inhale deeply.

It smells so good out here.

Fresh pine trees, mountain air, and sweet earth.

It smells like home.

Moving extra slow, I turn and push the door shut behind me, careful not to let it click. Then I release the doorknob and step off the porch.

The mountains in the distance cut across the night sky. Stars twinkle above them, and the moon shines. I picture my mother looking up at the same moon right now. Has her blackeye faded? Is her lip busted? Burke always smacks her in the mouth when she says anything to defend us.

After a beating, my mother and I would sit in the bathroom together, cleaning each others’ cuts. It sounds so deranged, but I miss those quiet moments. They brought me so much peace after such violent chaos. But now my mother has no one to care for her. No one to clean her cuts or kiss her bruises.

She needs me.

I make up my mind and take a step.

What’s one more impulsive decision?