Page 50 of Two For the Show (Trapped On The Tightrope Duet #2)

I don’t know what I expected, but being dismissed so quickly was not it. Maybe it was naive of me, but I assumed that the governor would immediately deny any involvement and do whatever it took to make things right.

Shame on me for thinking the government would protect its citizens.

All that the meeting accomplished was to tell me that he has more knowledge about the situation than he wants to admit.

I’m clutching Dario’s hand so tightly I’m sure his knuckles ache as we walk out of the Capitol building. He doesn’t even flinch. Unsurprisingly, several representatives of the media are still present.

“Dr. Shields! What did the governor say?” a woman with perfectly styled blonde hair asks, shoving a microphone in my face.

I’m tired. So tired. I don’t have it in me to deal with the media again.

I think my pack knows this, because Matteo steps forward.

“After a short discussion with the governor, where it was confirmed that Dr. Richard Smith was being considered for the position of Designation Director, the governor excused himself to conduct an internal investigation. No resolution has been reached at this time.”

The reporter’s mouth falls open as she briefly loses her composure. “Are you confirming that Dr. Richard Smith was going to be given the position of Designation Director in exchange for Dr. Alex Shields?”

“I cannot confirm that. I can only speak to the fact that Dr. Richard Smith was being considered for the position, and is a pack mate of Tripp Evans, Governor Evans’ son.” Matteo’s voice is firm and brooks no argument. “That is the only statement we have at this time.”

Quinton places a hand between my shoulder blades and guides me down the multitude of steps, where I wobble on my heels like a baby deer from the adrenaline dump of the afternoon.

“What are we supposed to do now?” I ask everyone and no one. “Wait until he comes back and tries to deny the statement and discredit me?”

Jude’s phone rings, and he winces. “Honestly?” he says as he declines the call.

“We should probably call our parents because we have been all over the internet and television this week, and they are, without a doubt, going to tear into us for keeping so much from them. Or at least my māmā no doubt is.” His phone rings again.

“That’s her, again. Can we maybe go somewhere so I can give her a call and introduce you all? ”

We find a coffee shop not far down the road and snag a table outside under a heater while Matteo and Dario grab everyone’s coffees. Jude runs his fingers through his hair, which was perfectly styled until now. I prefer the messy look on him, if I’m being honest .

“Why are you so nervous?” I ask, placing a hand on his forearm.

“Because my māmā is from New Zealand. We’re Māori.

Well, I was born here, but still, you know?

And my sister has an American pack, and now that I do, too, there’s no hope she’ll go home to her friends and the rest of our family.

” I can feel my bond with him twinge with sadness.

“I feel guilty that I am one more thing keeping her here when I know she wants to go home, where she can be surrounded by others who share her culture.”

“Have you ever talked to her about it?” I ask softly. “She’d probably tell you she doesn’t care as long as you’re happy.”

He shakes his head, accepting his coffee from Matteo as he and Dario come back and settle around the table. “I haven’t, but I know that’s what she’ll say. But she shouldn’t have to. She grew up there. She should be able to go back if she wants.”

“She’s a grown woman. Nothing is stopping her from visiting or moving back,” I remind him.

Before I can say anything else, he props his phone up and starts a video call. It rings once before an older woman with a tattoo on her chin and lips and dark hair answers the phone, her face filling the screen.

“Jude Charles Oliver,” she seethes. “Tell me why I had to find out you have a pack and an Omega from your kaihana who saw it on the internet!”

He rubs his face, a cute pink flush brightening the apples of his cheeks. He mouths the word ‘cousin’ to me, translating the Māori word without me having to ask. “Sorry, Māmā. Things have been busy.”

“Clearly! But that is no excuse. How could you be too busy to tell me that you have an Omega? It’s all I ever wanted for you.

A pack of your own. Here I was thinking you were too old, that you were going to be alone forever, and that I would never be able to die because I couldn’t bear to leave you on your own.

” The affectionate dramatics have me biting my tongue to smother a laugh.

Jude’s mother sniffles a little and finally notices I’m on the edge of the screen. “Oh, hello. You’re the Omega. Alex?”

Nerves flutter through me. I never met Rich’s family, which in retrospect was a bad sign, so I’m worried she won’t like me. “Yes, hi. I’m Alex.”

“Pretty, aren’t you? I saw your face all over the news. As soon as I saw the video of the circus and you with my Jude, though, I knew you had never been taken. My tennis club and I talked all about it. You’re a doctor, then? Beautiful and smart.”

I can’t stop the smile that creeps onto my face. She’s a little intense, but sweet, and I can tell how much she cares for Jude. Without him even bringing it up, I know she doesn’t care one bit that he found an American pack.

All she cares about is his happiness.

“I am. I started working for the circus as their doctor because that whole troupe gets hurt a lot. Jude would never keep his tight schedule if they had to keep delaying for someone to go to the hospital.”

She chuckles and looks at her son with the kind of unconditional, motherly love that you read books about. “I was not happy when he left home for that circus. It was no place for a child, but he has made something wonderful of it, hasn’t he?”

“Māmā, you have always said you wanted me to give it up,” he complains.

She waves her hand, hushing him. “The girls are talking. Tell me about the rest of the pack, Alex.”

Jude throws his hands up and rolls his eyes in good humor, letting me take over the phone and introduce his mom to the rest of the pack. After she meets and grills all of them on their roles in the circus and what we plan to do now that we’re a pack, I hand the phone back to Jude .

“So, Prime Alpha, is it?” she asks. There is so much pride in her voice. Jude must notice it too, because softness takes over his features. “I am so proud of you, my boy. You look good happy.”

“I am happy.” I slide my hand on top of his thigh and squeeze. He covers it with his own, fingers tangling with mine. “So happy.”

After several more minutes of getting to know her and making plans to visit her in Utah, we hang up, Jude looking more relaxed than he has in a while.

“Me next, I guess,” I say. “Unless Quinton, Matteo, you two want to call your parents first?”

Matteo waves me off. “I texted them. They’re happy for us.”

Quinton holds up his phone. “I called mine the day you bonded me. We’re not particularly close, but I still wanted them to know. We can call them later.”

My stomach drops. “Okay then. It’s my turn.”

I punch their number into Jude’s phone and put it on speaker. It rings and rings, and then, abruptly, my mother picks up.

“Yes?”

“Hi, Mom.” I sound like a child about to be scolded. And in a way, I am. If I had trusted my parents and believed they would have helped me, things would have been very different for me.

“Alex? Is that you? Oh my God. Theodore, it’s Alex!” I can hear my mother running across the house, and then my father is on the phone. “Is it really you?”

“Yeah,” tears clog my throat, and I clear it awkwardly. “It’s me. I’m so, so sorry. I should’ve called. I should’ve trusted you.”

The phone beeps with the notification of an incoming video call, and, reluctantly, I accept. I don’t want to see their disappointment, but I know I have to. My parents’ faces fill the screen, and my heart aches. I’ve missed them so much.

There must be something in my face that shows I’m bracing for a lecture, because my mom sighs softly as soon as she sees me.

“Alex, we’re not mad, ” my mom says gently. “We wish you had felt comfortable coming to us, but we’re not upset. We’re just happy you’re safe now.”

Tears well up in my eyes, and I tighten my fists, digging my nails into my palms to keep them from falling. “You should be mad. Furious.”

My dad shakes his head. “We’re not. We’ve been so worried about you these past few years, especially the last six months, but as soon as we saw that video of you in the circus of all places, we knew you ended up where you were supposed to be.”

My mother crowds into the frame. “You threw a knife at your Alpha!”

Quinton pops up behind me. “She did. Hi, I’m Quinton.”

All the guys take a moment to lean into the video and introduce themselves to my parents before I take over, and we discuss what happened.

I know I scared them, and that I should have trusted them, but sometimes, fear outweighs logic.

I’ve seen it myself in the emergency room, when abuse victims would come in and refuse to give me information on their families so I could call them.

Living in guilt isn’t going to help anyone, though.

Abuse is never the victim’s fault, and I won’t blame myself for how I handled it.

It’s not like I was able to think clearly after everything they put me through.

It’s not a commentary on how smart or clever I am, nor is it a moral failing on my part.

It’s what happens when someone degrades your self- esteem over time. It’s what happens when you hope that they’ll love you enough to stop.

They won’t.

I know that now.

And I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure they can’t hurt anyone the way they hurt me ever again.

Governor Evans’s face fills the television screen.

He looks solemn, wearing a black suit with a white shirt and black tie, as if he is on his way to a funeral.

His hair is perfectly styled, of course, not a piece out of place, and his wife stands behind him and to the side in a black dress with a string of pearls.

Her hands are clasped in front of her, and her eyes are downcast. She looks devastated, but not a single tear falls.

Tripp is nowhere in sight.

“Good afternoon. I am here today to address the situation that Dr. Alex Shields brought to my attention on Wednesday.

After thorough research, we have authorized the Florida Department of Law Enforcement to open an investigation into Dr. Richard Smith, Walter Evans the third, and Gregory Ramsey.

As the governor of this beautiful state, I am furious that some of our citizens would harm the person they were supposed to love, and know they will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

As a father, I am ashamed of my son and his behavior. This is not the way we raised him.

“As Matteo Shields, Dr. Shields’ Beta, noted in his statement, Dr. Smith was being considered for the position of Designation Director.

This was after multiple conversations with his previous employers, and yes, a recommendation from my son, his packmate.

I was unaware of the promise of an Omega to my son for his assistance in getting the position.

I would never place someone in a role who is unqualified, nor would I trade any role in my administration for goods, services, money, or people.

It is abhorrent to me that my own child cares so little for the Omegas, especially when his mother and brother are Omegas.

“I ran on a platform that promised to protect our Omegas and bring family values back to Florida. This is not what I stand for, and I will not stand in the way of the FDLE’s investigation into his pack and their crimes.

I commend Dr. Shields for sharing her story.

All pack registration documents for Dr. Alex Shields regarding Pack Smith have been dissolved.

I wish her well in her healing journey.”

I stare at the TV long after the governor walks away, declining to answer any questions from the media.

Rich, Tripp, and Greg are no longer my pack. They have no claim on me.

A weight has been lifted from me. It’s not enough, of course. I need to know that they cannot harm anyone again. But for now, I can legitimize my pack in the eye of the law and know that no one can take me away from them.

“How do you feel?” Jude asks, pulling me tighter against his side.

“Free.”