chapter 15

I pick up my phone off the nightstand and slide my finger to unlock it. I add his stupid fake name to my contacts. I start writing a new text. At least this way, I don't have to look into those gorgeous heart-melting eyes.
Me: So, Damien now, huh?
Ryan: Emilia, Princess?
Me: I go by Em now, Don't call me that name. Isn't that name reserved for your wife?"
Ryan: Princess. Don't be like that. You don't know what happened. Please don't be like that.

Me: No, I am not your Princess. She is. so do not call me that ever again

Ryan: Okay, so you are going to act like a fucking kid? You texted me, so you tell me what's going on?


Me: I am not acting like a child. You know what? I don't know why I texted anyway. I don't understand why you even bothered to try and contact me anyway. The past needs to be the past.

Axel' Holt': Nope. I'm not doing this like this. Where are you? I'm coming to you; we are not done with this. Not over a fucking text. EM.

Me: No, no. I don't think that's a good idea to see you. I don't want to be dredging this back up. You want to talk, fine…but not now.

Ryan:, Where are you, Em? Not asking you again, and I am not fucking doing this cryptic text message shit.

I read the message. Goddamn it, I really should have known better. I set my phone down. All it did was cause me to argue with him. I had no idea what I wanted to do. I should have asked him to let me have my time. I just wanted him out of my head, so I could think for five minutes.

My phone chimes. Then a minute later, I hear the reminder beep, followed shortly by another chime. Damn.

Ryan: We will be talking about this, emila. I know you. I won't let you just forget me like you did before. If you think you can just ignore me and ignore this, then you are up for a big wake-up call. Next Saturday, I don't care if I have to knock on every goddamn door in this. I will find you. Got that, Princess.

Well, shit.
Me: One week, Goodnight. Damien.
Ryan: If you call me Damien, little mate. one more fucking time, I'm bending you over my knees, just like I used to. That isn't my name to you, and you damn fucking know it.

I quickly turn my phone off and throw it across the room like it's dangerous to me. A small smile crept across my face. I hid under my cover and eventually fell asleep.


The following day came way too quickly, but I woke with a new resolve that it would be a good day. I have to deal with Ryan eventually, but I won't be doing that today.

On Sundays, Jeremy and I usually lounge around the house, do a bit of spring cleaning, and spend some time just the two of us while Johnny usually has pack meetings.

Since our regular Sunday was interrupted by being moved to the pack house to evade the drama in my life, Jeremy decided to call into work, saying he wouldn't be in today. I started planning our' get shit back on track day" I'm happy to have this time today. Even though we might live together.

We stay pretty busy during the week with work.

I knew the first step to my healing would work when I escaped. It took a while, but I am finally happy. All I ever wanted was to help people, and it started to make me happy. I still don't trust most people easily, so this is progress.

The first year and a half after I escaped Alpha ridden, I spent most of it in therapy. Jeremy and I spent the time getting our new life set up; Jeremy climbed the business ladder quickly. There wasn't really much time for me to just be me. I knew it was a semi-healthy coping mechanism. It took me a while to decide that I was okay enough to start living again, and Ryan waltzing back in sure as hell isn't going to change that.

So it was time to do what I did best. Live in a bubble of denial.
The week went quickly since Jeremy and I spent cleaning the packhouse on Sunday, running some errands around the town, cleaning out my closet, and organizing the pantry. I even scrub all three toilets in the house.
Most of Monday, I spent all day Monday lying around the house and watching old 90s movies. I turn off my phone, close the blinds and just enjoy spending the day alone without the world stomping all over me. If Ryan tried to call, I didn't know, which is fine with me. I am not ready to deal with his intrusive questions right now.

Tuesday and Wednesday are spent catching up on my work in the clinic. I fake work issues to be able to get johnny off my ass for a day or two. I don't wholly lie to him; I have plenty of work I need to get a good head start.

By Thursday, I am running out of excuses to prevent all the boys from trying to get me to open up all my mental scars, and even worse, I am running out of things to keep me distracted.

It didn't help that I was becoming painfully aware that Saturday was looming closer. Johnny and Jeremy had been busy with pack stuff which didn't bother me even though they had both already called twice, and I had let them ring unanswered. I should be worried about them going silent on me, but I knew there would be hell to pay when they got home, But I was too busy already panicking about Saturday.

Friday, I had just sat in front of the pack library and started re-alphabetizing the 1000s of dusty books that lived there when I heard my phone start ringing. I jumped up and ran to my room to see if I could send their calls to voicemail again, but I knew I would just give them a little I'm alive text to keep them happy. But When I pick up my phone and see "Damien Jackson AKA Ryan" calling, I scream out loud, panic draws over me, and I drop it.