Page 45 of Thorns That Bloom (Venusverse #3)

Theo

I keep seeing that man’s face. His every feature remains etched forever in my mind.

Those down-turned, deep-set dark eyes. Wide nose.

A beauty mark to the left of it. Slightly uneven eyebrows and a meticulously groomed beard.

The way he used his height and his intimidating posture to coerce and scare Sam.

Even now, rage itches inside my veins like a thousand crawling ants. Never in my life have I ever wanted to kill someone. To truly, undoubtedly, without a second thought, hurt a person so badly that they would never move again.

Because they’d deserve it. Because it would be the right thing to do.

I compare it to all the times I’ve felt overwhelming anger before.

When Landon Nash tripped Gail in third grade, making her fall and break open her chin.

That time I noticed a creep who’d watched Emily all night try to slip drugs into her drink at a festival.

Our family trip to the seaside when I was sixteen, when some hateful group of beta-rights activists spat on my dads as they walked along the pier, holding hands and enjoying life.

Not a single of those memories comes even close to the terrifying, blinding rage I experienced yesterday, that still simmers in me today. The kind of rage I never would’ve expected myself capable of feeling, and yet there’s not a cell in my body that regrets or is ashamed of it.

Maybe she’s right about me. About alphas.

Maybe this is proof enough.

I know I can’t stall anymore. It’s almost time, and I should thank my lucky stars that she even agreed to meet me, not to mention at such short notice.

Anxiety buzzes through my fingertips as I walk into the building. A part of me wants to turn around and go back. Of course, I’d rather be with Sam. Be there when he wakes up to make sure he’s okay. To talk to him if he needs to.

But this is for his benefit. No matter how uncomfortable, no matter how much my heart hurts, this is the most effective way to solve his issues.

Or at least some of them, I hope.

“Hello, sir,” a young woman smiles at me from the reception, showing off her bright white teeth. She seems like the most enthusiastic worker I’ve ever seen, especially at eight-thirty in the morning on a Friday.

The blue lettering on the massive poster behind her draws my attention. ‘Spyrax: Non-Profit Omega Rights Organization – Rising and Fighting Together’. As I furrow my brows, I try to shake off the feeling that I shouldn’t be here.

“Oh, hi! I’m here to see Gail. Um, Gail Reid. She knows I’m coming.”

The woman eagerly glances down at her computer, clicks a few times and…then her face drops. Her expression changes. Not to a completely unpleasant one, but it’s as if all that light got snuffed out. She looks back at me with a sort of uncomfortable distrust.

“I see. You can wait for her in Conference Room 4. Down that way,” she says firmly. Like I’m no longer standing there, she fixates on the computer screen again.

I glance at the door, considering escape one more time, and head to where she pointed.

“Thanks.”

Two people sit in the small, colorfully decorated waiting room on the way.

The walls are filled with all sorts of posters warning about various social justice issues.

Big, bold letters talking about ‘Heat or not—NO means NO’ and other related topics remind me, again, that this place isn’t for me.

It’s for the two young-looking omegas, a male and a female, who both look at me with a similar spirit of distrust as I pass by.

Unlike the beta receptionist, they can sense who I am. And I get the feeling that I am the enemy. But I already knew that, didn’t I?

Letting out a desperate huff, I wait with my hand on the handle before knocking and entering the conference room with the number four.

I step in, expecting to still have some time to get myself together, only to find Gail already standing on the other side of the tiny room, looking out of the window.

Momentarily, I freeze in the doorway, and she immediately turns.

Gail stands tall—even though she isn’t tall, really, by any measure, at her five feet and two inches—with her arms crossed over her chest. It’s a little shocking that besides the maybe slightly thinner, more mature face and her sun-bleached blonde hair being cut to just above her shoulders, she looks identical to the last time I saw her.

Maybe…two years ago? I glimpsed her crossing a sidewalk near the mall.

The last time we met and talked properly must have been at least—

“It’s been a long time,” she says instead of a greeting.

Putting on a smile either way, I nod and close the door behind me. “Yeah, it… Thanks for agreeing to see me.”

“You seemed pretty insistent that it was an emergency,” she says, looking me up and down.

“I hope it really is something serious that couldn’t have been done over a text, because you’d be surprised to know there are plenty of people needing help, especially on Friday morning.

I have other appointments, so this better not be some crazy scheme to get me to—”

“Of course not,” I blurt. Almost as if she realizes she has perhaps gone too far, Gail lets out a long exhale, her chest falling.

“Alright.” She grabs the chair on her side of the table and pulls it out to sit.

I do the same across from her.

“So…what do you need?”

I know I should be explaining and talking about Sam, but seeing her face, so close and yet so distant, and hearing that voice be so cold when we used to whisper secrets to each other and fall asleep in our made-up bunker together has me feeling all…

delicate. It hurts my heart, but I expected that coming here, didn’t I?

This isn’t about me or our relationship. It’s about Sam.

“Um, right. There’s a…someone who really needs your help. Like, not yours specifically, unless that’s what you decide is best, but whoever the best lawyer you have available is.”

A skeptical expression flashes across her face. She snorts, as if I have no right to even ask her that. Before she gets the chance to say something harsh or cruel, I hear the door open.

“Speaking of…” Gail murmurs playfully, whoever just came in having completely shifted her attitude.

I don’t have to turn around, because the tall woman in a deep blue power suit and stiletto heels walks around swiftly and ends up standing by Gail’s side.

When she looks at me, a high ponytail of shiny brown hair swinging behind her, I can definitely see the way this woman can command attention in a courtroom.

Not only is she taller than most men I know, but her eyes, lined by a thin black border, send a clear message: do not fuck with me.

And her scent, unusually strong, tells me she’s an omega, unlike Gail.

“This is Magnolia Ridley. Our best lawyer,” Gail says bitingly before sharing a knowing look with her friend.

“You’re the alpha brother, hm?” Magnolia asks, raising her chin in my direction.

I can’t help but feel a little ganged up on.

Not by her presence, but because she came in acting like Gail wasn’t safe here with me alone or something.

I was hoping to talk only to her and to… maybe forge a good path forward.

Either way, I bite down on the discomfort and try to move past it.

“I am.”

“So, what is this about?” Looking at her, she might be only a few years older than Gail and me, if that. She seems older in spirit, though. Has this take no shit attitude baked into her steely gaze.

The hostility in the air makes it hard for me to open the horrible box holding the memory of what Sam told me last night as he broke into pieces, but I remind myself that they’re the ones who help people like him. It’s their job. Their calling.

“There’s someone dear to me, who…” How do I start? Fuck, how do I say it out loud when hearing it from Sam nearly made me want to jab my fingers into my ears because of how horrible it was?

“An omega. Right?” she asks, cocking a brow.

“Right.”

“Needs our help because…?”

“He was assaulted.”

The anger comes in again like a tsunami. I should’ve delivered on my threats yesterday. Oh, I should’ve used my balled fist and punched him until he writhed in pain underneath me. Maybe that would’ve made Sam feel better. Maybe… No.

No, it wouldn’t have. It would’ve caused problems and only quenched this horrible side of me I didn’t even know I had. Doing that would’ve only benefited me.

Magnolia tries to stay professional, I can tell, but she also gives me a look like she thinks I’m some piece of shit wasting her time. “When?”

“It-it happened a few months ago. At least seven or eight…months. I’m not sure exactly.”

“You’re not sure?”

“That’s an awful lot of time,” Gail notes, clearly unhappy. “Was there a rape kit?”

“Y-yes, it…it already went through the courts. Or some kind of settlement took place. Look, I don’t know all the damn details, but a man was raped by five alphas at his workplace and…

.and got no justice. Now, one of the rapists has found him and is demanding the product of that brutality be his, or to have any rights to the baby.

He’s rich and powerful and…you need to help stop him. You can do that, can’t you?”

They both stare at me.

Shit, did that even make sense? My thoughts are jumbled with anger and fear. I want to be with Sam. I should be with him.

“You demanded this appointment with me, but you barely have any information,” Gail snaps, nearly rising out of her seat.

I still know her well enough—at least a part of her—to be able to tell that not all the frustration is aimed at me this time. She sounds the same way she used to when she would argue with me and Pop about whether fish are sentient.

I wonder if she’s still vegetarian.

“What are their names? What is the company? When did it happen? When did it go to court?” she asks. The lawyer next to her nods with each sharp question barked at me.