I tried not to cry as I stuffed my clothes into the duffel bag.
I moved quickly, shoving in anything I cared to
keep.
There wasn't much.
I tried not to think.
I tried not to feel.
Kaitlyn had left the room, but I could still hear
her—sobbing in the living room while that animal of a husband comforted her.
I clenched my jaw, breathing hard through my nose.
How could she be so twisted?
So sick in the head?
Is this what having a mate does to you? Turns you into something so blind and irrational—so utterly devoted that you side with him no matter what?
Even when he's a monster?
Even when he's hurting your own blood?
I shook the thoughts away.
I had already called Cami and told her as much as I could over the phone. She was coming to pick me up—I wasn't about to walk alone this deep into the night.
I've had enough trauma for one day.
I slung the bag over my shoulder, stepping out of the house for the last time.
I didn't look back.
The place I had spent my whole life.
Small. Suffocating
It had never been a home. Just a prison.
And even though my future felt like a black void, swallowing me whole, I felt something I hadn't felt in a long time.
Freedom.
The tyres of Cami's car gritted against the asphalt as she pulled up. I opened the door the second she stopped, slipping into the passenger seat without a word.
She looked at me—that look.
I turned away, staring out the window.
She got the message.
The ride was silent.
The apartment complex she lived in with Dalia was drab, run-down and falling apart, it was where many young omegas lived
Drab. Run-down.
A place to survive, not live.
Just like where I was coming from.
"I'll grab your bag," Cami muttered, her voice small as she yanked it out of the trunk. The silence gnawed at her.
"Thanks," I mumbled.
She led the way through the dimly lit hallway, the flickering lights casting shadows that felt too familiar.
The hallway was quite the opposite of Cami's
apartment though, when I had last been here, the place had been drowning in pink decor—Cami's touch.
Now? There were plants everywhere.
Dalia.
The second we stepped inside, Dalia rushed toward me, her auburn hair messy, her pajamas rumpled.
They must have been asleep when I called.
I had woken them up.
Even now I was still a burden.
Her eyes held that look, too.
"Oh my God, Nova," she whispered, sinking onto the couch beside me. "I heard what happened. I'm so, so sorry."
She barely took a breath before her next words rushed out.
"Aren't you going to report them? To the authorities? Get justice?"
I shook my head, staring blankly ahead.
"Thanks, Dalia, but no." My voice was hoarse. Flat. "There's no point. I just want to put them both behind me."
"And move on," I added, softer this time.
Dalia swallowed, nodding like she understood.
I doubted she did.
"I need a shower," I said, pushing off the couch.
++++++++++++++
The water was scalding as it ran down my body, mixing with the silent tears streaming down my face.
I finally let them fall.
I finally let myself feel.
No matter how badly they had treated me, they were still the only family I had ever known.
And just like that, they had cut me off.
She had cut me off.
I had always known Kaitlyn hated me.
But some part of me—some stupid, desperate, pathetic part—had wanted to believe that there was something there. Some small, hidden piece of love buried in that cold, unfeeling heart of hers.
I let out a broken laugh, pressing my forehead against the tile.
I was an idiot.
A complete, fucking idiot.
I sobbed until my chest ached.
It wasn't supposed to hurt this much.
It shouldn't hurt this much.
This had been a long time coming.
I reached for the loofah, pouring too much body wash onto the pink sponge.
I scrubbed.
Scrubbed.
Scrubbed.
Until my hands ached. Until my skin burned.
Until I felt raw.
Until I couldn't feel his touch anymore.
I had to get it off. The filth. The memory of his
hands.
The way he violated me.
The way they blamed me.
Just when I thought I had healed from the last time,he had done it again.
And she had taken his side.
Again.
A hysterical sound bubbled up in my throat.
I wanted to rip my hair out.
I wanted to cut it all off—let the blonde m strands that had started this whole nightmare fall to the floor.
I wanted to disappear, to erase my memories.
But I didn't have that luxury.
I stepped out of the shower, skin red and stinging, and pulled on the clothes Cami had given me.
I barely made it to the living room before I heard them.
Low voices.
Whispers.
I froze.
"There's no way I can ask her to go with me tomorrow after everything that happened," Cami was saying, voice tight.
"But we need the money, babe," Dalia whispered back.
"Can't you go with me?"
"I can't. I work there. It would be too awkward."
"She almost got raped, Dalia." Cami's voice shook. "By her dad." She paused. "I can't ask her."
"Fuck." Dalia exhaled harshly. "I told you we
should've had a backup at least."
"I know, I just—"
I stepped into the room.
"I'm going."
Both their heads snapped toward me.
Cami's mouth opened. Closed.
"Nova, you don't have to—"
"I'm not going to bail on you Cami" I said, cutting her off. "I'm going to the Alpha's bachelor party."
Her brows pulled together, concern flickering in her expression.
"But are you sure? After everything?" she asked hesitantly.
"There's going to be… a lot of men there," Dalia added.
I swallowed hard.
I knew that.
I knew exactly what kind of place it was.
I knew I had doubts.
But I still said, "I'm going with you, Cami."
She hesitated.
"I'm fine," I lied. "I just need a good night's
sleep."
She didn't look convinced. Even I didn't believe the words coming out of my mouth.
"Nova—"
"Don't worry about me, Cami."
I forced a small smile.
I was hurt.
But I wasn't broken.
He didn't break me.