Page 54

53

OLIVER

S urgery.

Logically, I think I know what's happening right now, but emotionally, I really don't want to fucking think about it. I can't help myself, though. "What did he call it?"

With his head leaned back on the plastic chair, Samuel responds, his voice devoid of emotion. "Fractured Fibula."

"And—" I gulp. “What do they need to do to fix it?"

Sammy sighs but doesn't open his eyes. "Do you actually want to hear me say it again?"

"No," I mumble. "Not really."

Silence surrounds us. Instead of bothering him with my anxiety, I slouch and watch the other two alphas pace around the waiting room. Apparently, Amaya will be sent to a different room after surgery since we were in the emergency wing. Vincent hasn't unclenched his fists in a while and Emmett still looks like he's going to explode.

I don't know what the hell happened in that car with Amaya's dad, but the determination pounding through our mating bond is overwhelming as hell. Don't get me wrong; I much prefer this version of Emmett to the self-deprecating one.

Em struggles with his worth and his place among our pack, but no matter what I do, those demons aren't mine to conquer. I've spent years thinking about how I can help my alpha see himself the way Sam and I do, but nothing worked. I didn't give up, I just realized that the only thing I can do is love him endlessly and hope for the day he learns to love himself too.

Emmett deserves everything good in life and whatever Paul said to him seems to have sparked something in him. I'm glad and so proud, but all I can focus on are the minutes ticking by while Amaya is getting her ankle fixed.

Fractured fucking fibula.

I want to know what happened so damn bad, but I'm terrified. What if I can't hold her trauma with her? Am I strong enough to take on her horrors? I suppose this is what a pack is for, though. I wouldn't be able to be everything Amaya needs, just like Sam and Emmett wouldn't either. She needs all of us just like we need each other.

My gaze flicks toward Vincent, and the chills from watching Emmett turn into a hot flush. Each time they pass each other, my mind takes a turn and imagines them ripping their clothes off. Maybe Vincent would knock my alpha to his knees and ? —

"Oliver!" Emmett snaps, but the red creeping up his neck makes my lips lift. "Yeeees?" I tease.

Em narrows his eyes and takes a step toward me with a lifted, pointed finger. "Knock it?—"

A whirl wind of blonde curls zooms between us, cutting him off. "Where is she?! Is she okay?!"

Four tall men follow and it takes me a moment to fully process what's happening until the voice registers. "MOM?!"

"Oh!" My mom gasps, spins around, and bolts away from the nurse's desk and right into me as I stand. "My boys! Where's Amaya? Is she okay?! Can we see her? Wait, why aren't you with her?!"

"Momma," Sam starts, also rising to his full height. Peeking at him over our omega mother, I catalog his red-rimmed eyes and slouched shoulders. We all must look a mess. "She's in surgery."

"SURGERY?!" Mom screeches and pushes back from me.

"Her ankle, ma'am," Vincent adds quickly, having joined the ring of men around my mother. "Her fibula is fractured. They had to go in, reset it, and put some plates and screws in."

Bile climbs up my throat, but I force it back down with a swallow. I catch Sammy's knowing gaze beside me and lean into him a bit.

"My poor girl," Mom whimpers, wiping tears from her eyes.

Papa Scott steps forward and drops a kiss on Mom's forehead before reaching a hand out to Vincent. "Good to see you again, hunk."

I snort, earning me a little glare from said hunk. "You too, sir," Vince responds kindly.

"Tell us everything," Reid, Mom's pack alpha, demands.

Vincent takes the lead, Sam adding bits and pieces here and there. When the information dump finally comes to an end, I can barely keep myself standing. My strength was stripped away with each recap of what we all went through.

It hurts even more that we don't have Amaya's story. All we have are the bruises and raw patches of skin. She drowned and was held in a cage against her will. We don't know who bought her or if they've been caught. We know nothing but our own fucking trauma, and hearing it spoken out loud makes me want to burst into a puddle of tears.

Silence settles around us except for the soft murmuring of my parents and Emmett on the phone with his dads. Paul chats quietly with Reid and Scott near the double doors where Amaya is. I'm glad they're getting along.

Unable to sit any longer, I stand and make my way over to the vending machine. Though I don't actually see anything or press any buttons. I'm not hungry. I just want my omega to be okay.

The air shifts around me, slowly dragging me from my thoughts. I lock eyes with my biological father, Taylor, and my eyes immediately burn. "Hey kid," he murmurs, bright green eyes shimmering with so much love it makes my throat clog.

"Old man," I croak, my tears falling in the face of my family. We all have special bonds with each other, but Pops has always felt like the other half of me. He knows my mind and my heart, rendering me vulnerable with just one look in his similar gaze.

Pops nods in understanding, knowing I'm about to break. "Sounds like your girl is a fighter, huh?"

A loud burst of laughter explodes from my quivering lips, and I collapse into his arms. "Yeah. Yeah, she really is."