“You think it wasn’t cruel the way he treated me when I had feelings? When I had emotions?”
“This isn’t the same thing,” my brother argues.
“My feelings have never been a concern to him, and you expect me to give a damn about his feelings?”
“This isn’t gonna end, sweetheart,” Dad says. “You’re prolonging the inevitable and doing damage that might take work to come back from.”
“Maybe itwillend. Maybe I’ll request a severing before he gets to claim me.”
Grey says, “That’s anger talking. Take a beat, Bailey. And do everyone a favor and stay home until this is sorted. He won’t handle you being around other males well.”
Dad’s response isn’t quite as friendly. He leans forward aggressively, “Just because I got a mate bond cut out of me doesn’t mean it’s easy. It was cut with a serrated knife, daughter, and it felt like it kept bleeding for a fuck of a long time afterwards. To get it done, I had to jump through major fuckin’ hoops and the only reason I got mine is because Greyson’s mother was practicing dark magic, slowly killin’ him. If I stayed, your brother wouldn’t have made it. Do not fuckin’ think it’s easy to end a fated relationship in our world, Bailey. They won’t just do it because a female has her knickers in a twist cause her mate hurt her feelings. He wants to fix this with you and you’re not givin’ him the chance.”
Ouch. But I’m getting angrier. “Maybe applying for a severance is about more than just me. Maybe it’s about the whole fucking thing, how unfair it is to females. I’m going to the SCC and I’m not just requesting a severing for me; I’ll also be petitioning for all females. Because if a woman is about to be claimed by an alpha she doesn’t want, she should have an actual choice in the matter. Look what just happened to Sherry!”
Now Grey is pissed, too. “You can’t compare Jase to Wyatt Meadows, Bailey. Come on!”
I keep talking. “The SCC offered me a job. Maybe I’ll take it and get on making it my mission while I work for them in Alaskato make sure alphas stop treating females like second class citizens.”
“Alaska?” Jase asks, stepping up.
“Alaska,” I confirm and stomp into the house.
18
BAILEY
I love a rainy day, and even more… a rainy night. I love leaving my window open so I can inhale unfiltered rainy air. I love the sound of the rain hitting the roof, and can contentedly watch droplet patterns trail down the windows for hours.
But Jase is ruining my rainy night by being here, being Jase, by being just inches away. In his flippin’ underwear!
I will not look at those hip bones. I will not drool over those abs. I absolutely will not stare at his package.
He walked in and pulled the trundle bed out, flexing and making his muscles bunch up (probably on purpose) as he stretched to pull the four corners of the sheet over mattress.
He flicked the blanket over it and plucked one of the pillows from the stack I’m resting on before he flopped back and stretched, making a growly yawning sound as he folded his arms back and laced his fingers together behind his head.
Showoff! And those black underwear are strained by what is most definitely an erection. In fact, I think he’s had one since I first woke up bound to the pole in that basement.
Thank goodness (and witchcraft) he can’t use it on me right now.
I’ve seen naked Jase a lot. And it’s an impressive sight, one that I’m pretty accustomed to and have neverevergrown tired of seeing. But for some reason, Jase here on my trundle bed in his underwear feels lewd. It feels like it’s more naked than naked.And this is probably because we’re in my room, ground zero for all those dirty Jase fantasies.
He’s lying just a few feet away from the window I stared at during too many hot summer nights to count, daydreaming the curtains would part, he’d climb in, and make me his. Heck, I stared at it during too many frosty winter nights to count, too.
Oh, what would the Bailey of a week ago feel like knowing this was hers for the taking?
I can’t let myself ponder it because I can’t risk thinking like the Bailey of a week ago.
Dinner tonight wasn’t fun. My mom is the kindest, most considerate mom there ever was. But all that kindness and consideration pointed at this undeserving jackass? Not fun to sit through. And even less fun listening to her offer him more of this, more of that, (while my father sat quietly shoveling food in his mouth without any interaction with Mom) was the fact that Jase’s eyes were on me almost the whole time. And it just made me madder and madder until I shoved away from the table and threw three quarters of my food in the compost bin. I heard him helping Mom with the dishes afterwards, which had her being over-the-top sweet to him, and now here we are.
He adjusts the waistband of his underwear.And I can’t do this.
I scoot to the bottom of the bed in order to exit it and stomp out of the room, straight down to the living room where Dad is sitting on the couch looking miserable. I point at him.
“If I have to sleep in the same room as him tonight, you should have to sleep with Mom.”
This is definitely a shade too far by Dad’s reaction. His face hardens and he whips the remote control. It pings off hisseventy-something inch television, his pride and joy, leaving a spider web crack on the screen.