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Chapter sixteen
Hunter
Bethany walks into thekitchen alone. I watch as her eyes flit around the room until she spots me, and there her gaze stays. It’s nice to know that I’m the one she’s searching for.
“Take a seat.”
The wooden chair creaks a little as she gets herself settled. I grab the plate of food and walk around the island to the small table. Four chairs. We only needed three. Why are there four?
I’m glad.
I sit beside her and pick up the fork before she can reach for it.
“Let me, please?”
She inclines her head, but there’s a hesitation in her eyes, and I don’t blame her at all. The vulnerable side of this omega is showing. We made her be so strong. We made her survive on her own.
We don’t deserve her.
I twist a little coil of pasta on the end of the fork and carefully carry it to her lips. She opens her mouth obediently, but it’s the moment after her mouth closes that I wait for. Her eyes widen, she makes a moaning sound, and I know I’ve done good. I get another coil of pasta ready and wait for her to finish her mouthful.
“We worked an endless parade of different jobs in those early days. Factory work, bar work. Saint drove people around. We saved up everything we could, sleeping in a one room shithole of an apartment. And, eventually, we worked our way up. From there, we had enough to buy this shitty little place outright. And for two years, we struggled, and one night, it just exploded, and we got traction, and the more improvements we did, the more they came. And that’s how Dynasty was born.”
I keep feeding her while I’m talking.
“There, we kept saving until we could afford this place. We don't have a mortgage. We own it outright, we own the bar outright, too. That security was a dream we were working towards. We needed to have a home. We needed to have a way to support ourselves.”
“Do you think I’m a threat to that?” she asks with hurt in her voice.
I shake my head before she even finishes the sentence. “Not in the way you’re thinking. We didn’t dream of changing the world or becoming stars. Our dreams never got past safety and security. Our dreams were small, Bethany. We didn’t dream big. We did not even think that you could exist. But here you are, and if you do exist, and you’re here…then how long until our luck runs out?”
“Your logic is flawed,” she points out dispassionately.
“I’m aware of that. But it’s, like, we have our dreams, having you seems too much.”
She throws her head back and laughs. It’s a cold laugh, and I find myself watching her in captivated awe.
“If we’re going by your logic, then haven’t we all suffered enough, and perhaps this is the universe’s way of rewarding us?”
I open my mouth, but she takes the fork and shoves some pasta in my mouth before I can protest.
“Maybe this is fate. Who would have thought I’d be so desperate, so down on my luck, so close to throwing in the towel, that I’d walk into the bar owned by my scent matches, and then in a room full of people, still defying the odds, meet you.”
Her cheeks have turned pink, and her eyes glitter. Now, this is a side of her that I haven’t seen. Angry, fierce. She is incredible.
“But-”
“Maybe the universe gave you what you needed, but maybe it was trying to give me what I needed? Either way, I find this conversation mildly offensive and irritating.”
“Why?” I snap at her, annoyed that she’s dismissing my thoughts.
“Because you are presuming to know fate’s intentions, and you don’t know. You can spin your argument all day long, but I can match you with mine. The fact of the matter is I was here. You had me. It was going to work out. And then you all got scared, tucked tail, and ran,” Bethany growls and stands up.
I stand up, too. “You ran, too. You ran so far I couldn’t find you.”
I shut my eyes as the realisation of what I’ve said crashes into me. The silence is heavy and filled with the scent of passion fruit.
“Did you, by any chance, look for me, Hunter?” Bethany asks gently. I can feel her moving closer to me.
