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Nothing.
Fuck.
I swallow hard, my throat suddenly dry. "They... haven't been answering," I admit.
My father's frown deepens, his brow furrowing with concern. "I'll do what I can," he says, his tone clipped. He turns on his heel, striding toward the hospital exit with purposeful steps.
I just called her parents on autopilot as soon as I had a chance, too focused on the doctor's words to really put much thought into it, but now, their silence is glaring.
I stare after my father's retreating form, my mind reeling.
I always assumed Evie was just another spoiled, stuck-up princess, born with a silver spoon in her mouth and a pack of doting family members at her beck and call. But now, with the deafening silence from her parents, I wonder if her home life was ever what it was painted to be.
The thought that she doesn't have a loving family to fall back on, that maybe we weren't the only ones who failed her... it makes the guilt twist like a knife in my chest. Were we just another disappointment in a long line of letdowns? Did we confirm every fear, every insecurity she'd ever had about her own worth?
Or worse…
What if that's the real reason I couldn't run her off? What if her home life was even worse than the hell we put her through? The bile rises in my throat. Did she stay because even our cruelty and apathy was better than what awaited her at home?
The sound of running footsteps jerks me out of my spiraling thoughts. I look up just in time to see Addison, Evie's best friend, come rushing down the corridor, her auburn curls wild and her face pale. She's still wearing her pajamas, like she came as soon as she got word. I didn't call her, but I figure one of the others must have.
"Where is she?" Addison cries, her voice raw with panic. "Where's Evie?"
I open my mouth to respond, but before I can get a word out, she's on me. Her small fists pound against my chest, her tears soaking into my shirt.
"What did you do to her?" she screams, her voice cracking. "What the fuck did youdo, Damien?"
I grab her wrists, trying to still her flailing limbs. "Addison, stop. Please. She's stable. She's going to be okay."
But even as the words leave my mouth, they feel hollow.
Because she's not okay, is she?
How could she be, after what I've done?
Addison yanks her hands free, her hazel eyes blazing with a fury I've never seen before. "Stable? You think that makes it better? God, Damien, how could you? How could you do this to her? And don't give me any bullshit because I know this was you. I know it has something to do with the fact that you didn't complete those fucking mating marks."
Indignation flares up in me, but it's quickly smothered. I have no right to be upset Evie told her best friend. The one person she could confide in. Hell, she would have been well within her rights to drag us before the Council and tell them every last thing we did and didn't do. To make sure we never get another omega to neglect, to make sure no one else in either of our coalitions ever trusts our pack again.
It still wouldn't be what I deserve.
Each word is a lash, flaying me open, exposing the ugly truth of my own failures. I have no defense. No excuses.
"I'm sorry," I whisper, the words woefully inadequate. "I'm so fucking sorry."
She shakes her head, disgust twisting her features. "Sorry isn't good enough. Not after what you've done."
And she's right. I know she is. Sorry will never be enough. Not for Evie. Not for the pain I've caused. The trust I've shattered.
But it's a start.
A small, pitiful start, but a start nonetheless.
I straighten my shoulders, meeting Addison's accusing gaze head-on. "I know. And I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to her, if she'll let me."
And I will. I mean it. I don't deserve Evie, and I certainly don't deserve to get what I want and have Daria back.
The question is…isthat still what I want?
