I wanted to believe they were cruel, or selfish, but that didn’t seem quite right.
It appeared they were thoughtful, and sweet, and willing to offer me the world.
How did I know what to believe?
Trevor had been nice too, at the beginning. Said he loved me, gave me attention, gifts. Then the abuse had started.
How could I trust Grayson not to take me down the same path? After all, he’d just shown his true colours, hadn’t he? Calling me a venomous cat. Letting me leave when the others wanted me to stay.
Rejecting me.
The hot sting of tears made my eyes burn and I blinked rapidly to stem the flow. A few slipped free and made me shiver.
I pushed them away and kept walking, the occasional car now driving past, as I approached town.
I focused on my feet, the feel of the road beneath my toes. The tingle of cold on my hands. And I tried not to think about the fact that the weight of their rejection was the underlying cause of my tears.
Claire had said she’d vouch for these guys but how was that possible, when at the first sign of me asserting myself, wanting to go home, as I had every right to do, they just tossed me away?
A taxi was drawing closer, so I waved my hands and the driver pulled over in front of me and rolled down his window. “You the one who called the cab?”
I nodded my head and jumped in.
“Yes. I need to get to work, please. St John’s hospital.”
“Alrighty.”
We drove back to town and I pushed aside the pain that surrounded any thoughts of the pack, and the men who’d said I was their everything.
That sure didn’t last long.
***
They didn’t come for me. Not the day after I left, nor the day after that.
Which shouldn’t have surprised me, after all, men were inconsistent, fickle creatures. Weren’t they? Or was that women?
I couldn’t tell anymore.
But every day I was away from them, my heart hurt.
My throat ached.
And I wasn’t battling a cold. I was sure of it. My head thumped with a headache and I had chills while I slept.
“Good night, Nevaeh,” my supervisor called out as I headed for the exit after my shift. I was back at work, doing what I loved. So why wasn’t I happier about it?
“Night, Trish.”
It was cold and dark, and I couldn’t wait to get home.
Home.
What a strange concept now.
I’d busted my butt, and Grayson’s, to come home to an apartment I shared with a girl I barely knew. It was old, and untidy, and not at all what I wanted for my home.
But I was making do, as I always did. Until I reached my goal.