Page 25 of The Gift
My head swivels towards him, but out of the corner of my eye I also notice the alphas with Koda take a big step towards Carmen, and I squeak like a toy mouse.
“Come stand over here with me.” It’s not a question or a suggestion, it is a demand of action, but his voice pacifies the alpha bark along with the frantic pace of my pulse, and even though I know it, I don’t particularly like it. “I have a nervous omega.”
I look at him, horrified, but he’s pitching his head toward the small cottage, his eyes not on me. I feel like a fucking fraud. I desperately want to argue his comment, but he’s smiling, ignoring my meltdown, offering support.
My focus shifts, by the smallest degree. And while I focus on him, I don’t get caught up in the action behind me.
“She’s scared, can’t say I blame her. Been by herself for so long.” He tempts me with facts about the other woman, but it’s way too accurate and personal for me to not apply what he’s saying to myself. Conflict behind me, conflict in front of me, and even I can admit, reluctantly to myself at least, that I don’t feel scared by Ashton.
Behind me, more noise flows as Carmen loses the plot. One of the other men standing snarls and barks aggressively, shouting at her to submit. His alpha bark so loud and commanding it hits me like a sledgehammer, and my legs fucking give out.
I drop like a sack of shit.
And then I’m caught inches from the ground by a pair of strong arms promising more than arms can. Because arms can’t talk, but I understand what they’re saying.
“Bailey, you’re good. Come on, let’s walk it off.” Ashton’s voice gives me something to focus on. I need it because behind me the rising aggression is crashing against all my years of self-preservation. He keeps me on my toes by refusing to recognise or mention my strange behaviour.
But to an alpha it is not strange. I’m responding. I pray that I used enough scent blocker this morning and can come up with a good enough ruse in time.
“I can’t,” I whisper to myself, caught up inside my head.
“You have already,” Ashton says encouragingly, almost as soon as I finish speaking. I turn to him, triple checking that my ears aren’t betraying me, but his eyes are locked on something in the distance.
And somehow, in some way, he urges me forward, without looking or saying a thing. One step becomes another and with each one I take, the buzz in my head dissipates ever so slightly, and I find my way back, on my own path. Sort of. But sort of is better than being what I was only seconds ago.
Goddamn alphas.
Ashton
The success of a good curve ball is in the delivery. Even then, no matter how hard or long you train, there’s always a chance that sometimes things happen, taking the ball on a completely different path than you foresaw. Spin, speed, hell, even the type of ball you use can influence the outcome, but delivery is key.
I seriously get so caught up in the play happening around me, the way she responds in an instant, it would be so easy to become what she fears the most, until that weird ass analogy pops into my thoughts.
Nothing with Bailey is going to be easy, and I suspect no matter how much time and effort we put into this, there’s a very real risk that she still won’t let us in. But it doesn’t mean I’m not going to try my darndest. I’m happy to train from sunup till sundown if I get to be the drinks boy on her team, for even one inning.
“When we go in and see Jenna, it’s important that you not focus on her being an omega,” I draw her down towards the back gate, leaving the drama behind us. But really, it’s neither of those things, it’s giving Bailey the time to be Bailey again. Though I somehow need to bury my earlier slip up about the omega being alone.
Instead of turning to make sure she’s hearing what I’m saying, and not getting too caught up in her head again, I stare woodenly down the country lane. The whole place is quaint and pretty, not my style, but at the same time it’s hard not to take it in and be impressed. Age-old evergreens run down one side of the lane, the garden to the other side is overgrown but not in a wild and untamed way. It really is like one of those landscape masterpiece paintings complete with pretty wildflowers.
“Do you like this, Bailey?” I ask, as I lead her away from the drama.
Since today is really the first time we’ve hung out, I’m digging in whole-heartedly, using the time to find out as much as I can from her. Carefully of course. Because if she realises what I’m doing, she’ll shut up tighter than Henley’s wallet when it’s his turn to buy take-out.
“Umm. It’s not really my style, but it’s nice,” her voice is off a pitch or two, but the waves of stress rolling off her are the reason. She’s been caught off-guard, and there’s a part of me that spikes in resolve to not only fix it now, but to ensure it doesn’t happen again.
“Hmm, nice, huh.” I shrug.
“I don’t want nice,” she mumbles, as she keeps licking her lips nervously.
Girl after my own heart. Nice is not a word that should ever be used to describe a person, place, or thing. Actually, I’m on team Ban The Nice, probably a reflection of what Henley calls my winning black and white personality, but honestly, I don’t give a shit. It’s worked well for me, being so decisive up till now. Which is another reason I’m enjoying being with Bailey, she’s a kaleidoscope of technicolour hidden away in one of these moving Chinese finger traps.
“Good to know.” How I keep talking blandly, I don’t know.
Triple checking that Koda’s got a good handle of the unfolding scene behind us and is exactly where I left him, I keep walking with her. It was always our strategy that Koda be stationed at the front with Gus, Lloyd, and Terry, because in situations like this, there always are risks.
I can easily admit that I consider anyone not in my pack a risk. Although after Bailey’s recent time with Pack Miller, I guess we’re taking all threats more seriously.
Koda’s solid, which is why instead of storming over there and ripping Lloyd a new one for his clear and obvious lack of discipline, and professionalism, I’m focusing on Bailey. Our guys have all trained to work around omegas, fuck, they’ve been beaten senseless with good manners and endless discipline to ensure they don’t react to any woman, child, man, beta, or omega.
