There is no room left for argument after that.
Adam left immediately, shooting me one last look of despair as he trudged his way home.
Alpha Beckett was on the porch. It seemed he had been watching our whole interaction. How I knew? It's because of the look Alpha Beckett had in eyes.
He was angry, obviously that I had disrespected his son. And probably also because Adam let me talk to him that way.
I didn't understand Alpha Beckett's crazy obsession on why I had to mate with Adam. I mean, there were plenty of other girls in the pack. Who we actually willing to be Adam's mate. They were pretty, kind, obedient.
Everything I really wasn't.
Maybe Alpha Beckett just wanted to watch me break. Maybe he wanted to see me wither in fear of him.
Either way, I knew a lot more hid beneath the surface.
Alpha Beckett had a bigger reason for tormenting me. I just didn't know why. But I knew I'd find out sooner or later, whether I wanted to or not.
It's a bad thing I hate suspense.
I seem to toss and turn endlessly in my bed the next two nights.
I think it's because I'm losing my mind.
I haven't really spoken to anyone since the encounter with Adam. I just wasn't in the mood.
Liam was upset about that. He spent all his free time pestering me with phone calls and notes, and well, everything.
I never did answer.
And it's cowardly, I know. But pushing people away is my coping mechanism. It's how I keep myself functioning.
Well, how I use to keep myself functioning.
It was clearly driving me insane the past few nights. I didn't sleep.
If I did, I'd have nightmares. One's filled with blood, screams, and memories I'd like to forget. So I avoided it. By not sleeping and making myself delirious.
I'd sit on my couch in the middle of the night and watch stupid movies and shows. Sometimes I'd just sit and stare at an old picture of my mom that I had thought I'd toss to the garbage a long time ago.
Guess not.
I was starting to realize a lot of things I hadn't done. Like getting over her death.
Every time I glanced at that picture of her, that familiar ache would rise in my chest. The same ache I felt just days after her death.
The more I thought about it, the more I realized that it's incredibly like deja vu.
The not sleeping, mourning over my mother's death, and over all, being pathetic.
It's on the third night that I have a guess arrive in my monologue of weakness. Surprisingly, it isn't Liam who catches me in the act, but my dad.
It's late, probably around 3 AM when I hear the creak of the door and heavy footsteps.
I don't jump, I don't scream. I just stare numbly at the photo of my mom in my hands.
He's obviously shocked that I'm still awake, because when I glance to him, his lips are parted and his grey eyes are wide.
I don't try to conceal the tears that build up in my eyes.
Usually, I'd tell him to go away so he couldn't see me cry or whatever. But I'm too weak to care. He can watch all he wants. It's not like he'll be here after tonight.
