Rejected and Pregnant I Fled The Pack (Evelyn and Damon) novel Chapter 281

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"Your parents are at the north gate," I said. "Your father, your mother, and two other men in a car. They asked for you by name."

She didn't make a sound. Her face went blank, the way a window goes blank when the light behind it goes out. I'd seen that look on her once already, on the other side of a rainy border marker, and I hated that I recognized it.

"I told the guards to send them away," I went on, steady and slow. "They're not coming in. They can't. You aren't their property, Marissa. Legally, morally, or any other way I can think of. Nobody here is going to hand you over, and nobody here is going to let them anywhere near you."

"They'll just come back."

"They might."

"They'll keep coming." Her voice cracked. "My father doesn't stop. He once sat outside a supplier's office for nine days until they signed. He'll wait in that car until winter if he has to. And the men with him—"

"Let him wait." I leaned forward. "I will be right here the whole time, and so will everyone in this pack. You're not alone anymore."

She finally looked at me, and her eyes were wet and furious, and I realized the anger wasn't aimed at me.

"I hate that I'm so scared of him," she whispered. "I'm twenty years old. I should be able to say *no* and mean it. Why can't I just say it?"

"You did say it," I said. "You said it with a window and eighty-one dollars. That counts."

Her laugh broke in the middle. "How did you know about the eighty-one dollars?"

"Rhys told me. I'm sorry. He pulls records for everything."

"Of course he does." She wiped her face with the sleeve of my hoodie, then paused and looked at it. "I'm going to ruin your favorite hoodie."

"Please. Wreck it. I'll buy ten more."

She was crying and smiling at once, a mess of both, and my wolf ached with how badly he wanted to gather her up. I didn't. I picked up the napkin beside my plate, folded it into a square, and held it out. She took it.

"Here's what I need from you," I said gently. "Not a decision, just information. Do you want to see them? Not tonight, not tomorrow, just ever. Some people need to say the words to someone's face. Some people never want to see them again. Both are fine."

She was quiet for a long time, turning the napkin over in her fingers.

"I don't know," she said finally. "I think I want to. Someday. But I don't want to be alone in the room when I do."

"You won't be."

"And I don't want him to think he can talk me back into it."

"He won't." I let my voice go low and sure. "If you ever decide to face them, you'll choose the time and the place, and you'll have people standing behind you. That's the only way it happens."