Maybe I was never supposed to wake her up. Maybe she left some other way for me to get back my gifts and I just had to find her?
My train of thought is interrupted as a lunch trolley is pushed down from the elevator, and left outside my door shortly after the woman exits, but the guard, another Santo looking asshole, shrugs at me with a distasteful smug expression, butts up against the glass with his shoulder and let’s his eyes lazily walk over me. Pure creep oozing from every pore. It’s the idiot who was sat at the desk upstairs, when Deacon informed him I was to be fed the same mealtimes as the rest of the facility.
“I was told to give you lunch, but the doc stopped me and said you can’t eat anything until he’s taken some sort of sample….so, I guess I leave it here and it gets cold. Enjoy. Not that I would advise eating it later.” He smirks, clearly happy with his sad position of power. A total omega wolf, low pecking order, and looking for any kind of upper hand to scrape him from the bottom.
I scowl at him, the smell of steak and soup wafting through the glass and even though he thinks he’s getting some sort of power kick by leaving it out of reach, I don’t even want it. I ate the food earlier, and it does confuse me that the doc would insist I ate that, and not this, it’s not really been long enough to even feel hungry yet. I don’t get the sudden urge to tell me not to eat now.
I guess Deacon has briefed his sub pack on who, and what, Juan says I am, and they are all part of the Alora fan club right now, given the way this asshole is acting. I can almost taste his dislike, and the creepy way he’s eyeing me up like a main course on his dinner menu, giving me bad vibes. He reminds me of that jerk Damon, who used to watch me, all through school and tried to get at me in a hallway for a grope and forced kiss. He was a perverted creep who liked control over girls, much like this idiot.
“Why don’t you have it … you could obviously use some extra energy boosts. I mean, if the chase in the forest was anything to go by.” I give him the same friendly passive aggressive attitude that I give Deacon, and he grins, ear to ear, as though he’s too stupid to realize it was a dig. Annoyingly smug, and if he wasn’t such a jerk, he would be kind of cute, in the whole Colton way.
Damn, I really need to stop doing that. Comparing every hot Latino to him, then finding fault because it’s not him. I get it. I still give a rat’s ass and I still miss him constantly, and every dark haired, dimpled, and dreamy eyed, hot Colombian, brings him back to the forefront, but god…. timing. If he was Colton, he would let me out in a heartbeat, and he would never throw such a smug look at me for something so absurd. If Colton was here, he would know what to do about this whole mess, he always seems wiser, like he has the answers and he probably would be handing this idiot his genitals back about now.
I can’t fault that part of Colton, even when he was a jerk in our youth. Apart from that one time he shoved me out of his way for epically tripping in front of him and his entire rabid crew, he never really went out of his way to be any kind of ass to people for no reason. He was always so effortlessly superior and seemed aloof, and quiet, like he was better than us. It was all in the looks he gave, rather than the verbal content, but I guess he does have a sort of intimidating way about him, even when he doesn’t mean it.
A proper bro type, who hung with his pack, and played sports, and walked around like Danny from the movie Greece. Everyone looking up to him and kissing his ass when he waltzed by. I guess maybe he was not very sociable with those outside of his sub pack, because that’s not who I know now and his memories, they don’t show an asshole like that either. Colton doesn’t like to get close to people outside his own circle, and I guess it’s because he lost so many in the war, and then his own mother.
He has a wall up, and he keeps everyone outside his pack on the other side of it. I guess that’s why he tries so hard to make his father proud, because he loves him, even if he’s not worthy of being loved, and that’s not Colton’s fault, that’s Juan’s. Colton’s flaw is trying to be this perfect Santo wolf, with a weight of responsibility on his shoulders that one day he will lead. He follows the rules, the laws, and the word of the Alpha without conflict, as he’s meant to, and even puts all of that over his own desires. I guess a leader does have to be that way, ingrained greatness, where his heart can’t always lead and it only further cements the fact that he’ll be the best for his people one day, but for us, not so much.
I get back to my previous activity when smug smiley guard walks off, getting bored with my disinterest in him and go back to pacing the room and looking for any kind of tool, or helpful item to get out. It didn’t last long and enforces the fact he’s an omega and low in the scale of things. Used to being ignored and dismissed and quietly slinks off. Thankfully, as I have no mind space for asshats. I’m uptight, worn thin, and agitated about my current predicament, with so many warring emotions coming at me from my own mind.
The cupboards are full of medical crap, bandages, and nothing even sharp or useful. It’s practically an empty room and anything with real weight is bolted down into concrete floors with steel pins. There’s nothing at all that could be of any real use, let alone as a weapon of sorts, and I end up throwing my cushions against the glass in frustration when my anger piques and I can’t contain it anymore.
I have so many swirling emotions that I don’t know what to do with. A vibrating energy pulsing through my core, and I’m mentally up and down and all over the place. One second, I want to cry and lie down and sob, then the next I’m angry, furious, boiling over, and want to slash Juan into a thousand, tiny, bloody pieces, for everything that brought me here, and my entire life since they went to war. Just when it feels like it reaches overwhelming levels and I can’t breathe for the suffocating need to expel this hatred physically, in the next breath, I’m calm, and logical, and trying to plan a way out. I can’t keep up and it’s exhausting.
Time alone to think and let it sink in has done nothing except get me riled and upset, and yes, I’ve cried buckets. I sat in a huddle in the corner for a good twenty minutes and sobbed my heart out, while it felt like it was breaking all over again. Much like when I left Colton, and found myself alone without him, and no choice but to keep going. Soon as the doctor left it’s all I could do … for me, my mother, my brother and father, my family, my pack. For the mate I can never have.
I cried until my nose ran, and I couldn’t breathe, and I drenched the upper part of my gown, because I was still wearing it at that point and the cold wet spreading across my chest on thin fabric was strangely comforting. Mirroring how my soul felt and how it was seeping into every pore. I felt hopeless, and weak, and broken, and I have no idea how to get past that.
It was for Colton and Sierra too, for their pain, their loss, and this whole god damn mess. For the life I should have had, the family I should have still been with, and the mate I would have imprinted on in another life and been allowed to be with. It would have still been Colton, that’s what the fates decided a long time ago, but I would never have had to leave him, and I would be with him now, safe in his arms and calmed by his touch. Guided by that wise part of him that always seems to have an idea about what’s going on. Only it failed him when he needed that gift the most.
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