Page 30 of Bound to the EMT

“But my mother-”

“Fuck your mother,” he growls.

Unbidden, a small smile teases the edges of my lips. “I’d much rather not, if it’s all the same to you.”

For a moment, his eyes widen. “Did you just make a sexual joke?”

“I do believe I did. Your bad influence is rubbing off on me already.”

“I’d rather something else be rubbing off on you instead.”

Pushing me backward, he guides me over to the bed. Once my knees hit the baseboard, I freeze up again. “Seriously. I- I can’t do this. Not without some sort of guarantee that you’re not going to make me go back to her. I can’t go home sullied and used.”

Frustration drifts off of him, turning his scent acrid. With a grunt, he runs his hands through his hair. “I wish I could tell the future. All I can say to you is that I’m in it for the long haul. You’ll just have to figure out if you trust me enough to give it a real chance.”

“But I-”

“Don’t worry, Princess. Your innocence is safe with me. I’m not taking your virginity until you beg me. Now change out of your wedding dress and into something more comfortable. We have houses to look at.”

He yanks some clothes out of a drawer and strides off toward the bathroom, leaving me alone. I don’t think he’s mad. Not really. Just resolute. Part of me should be grateful he’s willing to wait, but another part of me wanted something different.

I guess in my mind I was hoping he’d just take me then and there, leaving me no choice in the matter. That way, when I go back home, my tail tucked between my legs, I can say it wasn’t my fault. But then, that’s not really fair to him either. I don’t want him to be the bad guy just so I can have my conscience clear.

Looking around the room, my heart pounds in my chest. Clothes. All my stuff. I rise off the bed and head toward the front of the house, scouring the space for my things. Even the front porch is bare. That’s odd. Shouldn’t my things be here already? Or at least on their way?

My fingers shake as I pull out my communicator and dial my mother’s number. “Hello, Mother. I’m wondering about my stuff?”

“Oh? You mean your new husband can’t provide things for you? Shocking.”

“Please, Mother,” I beg, tears gathering in my eyes. “Don’t be like this. I didn’t choose him. I-” Well, that’s not exactly true, is it?

All I had to do was think about the Alphas at dinner. But no. I stroked myself to this man, the one my mother despises because of his lack of wealth. It is my fault. All of it.

“Are you even listening to me?” Her shrill voice cuts through my thoughts, bringing me back to the present.

“I’m sorry. I think it cut out. Can you repeat that?”

“Not surprising, seeing as he probably has you living in the slums. As I said before, the answer is no. The things you possess belong to us. We paid for them. They are ours. Until you’re with a man we approve of, your things stay here.”

“But my school supplies. My homework. Please,” I beg. “You can’t be so heartless and cruel.” The line goes silent for so long I worry she hung up on me.

“A driver will be by tomorrow with all your little sketches and schoolbooks. I assume your pursuits are all confined to the art room as requested?”

“Yes, Mother.”

“Then that room will be delivered to your doorstep. I can only hope your new husband can find some way to make room for it all. Or, better yet, talk you out of such foolishness.”

“Yes, Mother.”

“See you in six months. And mark my words, Doctor Jamie will conduct a thorough examination on you before you may enter. If he even suspects you’ve messed around with that... that sorry excuse for an Alpha, then you’ll have to find somewhere else to live. I don’t harbor whores. You know that.”

“Yes, Mother.”

As she hangs up, I slide down the wall, crumpling onto the floor. All my fault. All of this. Every bit of this is my fault.