Bad Love: An Alpha's Regret (Leah and Aaron)
Chapter 58

Chapter 58

"What the hell are you talking about?" Aaron snarls.

James is hard-eyeing me in the mirror too.

But I've said enough.

I don't care anymore. "I'm not your secretary. Ask her yourself."

James and Aaron exchange harsh looks. I don't care about that either.

I've been carrying around a lot of pain these last years. The culmination of being rejected and taken for granted, and never really loved the way I deserve to be.

My ca ncer prognosis put that in a crystalline perspective.

So much time. So much love.

Wasted.

But no more.

And now that I'm finally in a position to make decisions for myself I'm not about to relinquish control again.

I gaze out the window and ignore both males. Or try to, anyway. Aaron's presence calls to me. It's like some da mn invisible string

that I can't seem to cut. His scent fills the vehicle and his presence seems to reach out to me. Is my sense heightened?

No, I don't think so.

It's always been this way. And I don't want to go back to that.

I can't go back to that.

I

Because as far as this Alpha is concerned, he consumes me. lose myself in him and even when I ha te him, when I want to tear out his heart and make him suffer as I have suffered, part of me can't bear to do it.

It's the worst kind of weakness.

I can't even blame Aaron for that.

It's all me.

I'm like some pa thetic puppy that gets kicked around but who keeps coming back, desperate to please.

I'm in love and it doesn't matter that it's bad, I can't seem to let

go.

The road winds up a high swath of mountains, the temperature dropping as we climb. It's spring but there are patches of snow on some of these cliffs and that's not even unusual for out here. As we approach my father's-my-packlands, I'm hit with a sense of foreboding.

I don't know how to describe the feeling. Nervousness, maybe?

Sadness? Dread?

We pass beneath the huge gate with it's R-A insignia and we clear the first gate. It lifts automatically as we approach.

Perhaps another mile up the road is a second perimeter. This one is manned by several wolves and the guards here patrol an eighteen-foot fence that's topped with barbed wire and giant dome lights. Additional guard towers are inside the wall, with gun stations and watchpoints.

My packlands always looked more like a military installation than a 'home.' I see that now.

But war changes and shapes things that way.

James pulls to a stop and rolls down his window.

Behind us, the two other SUVS that escorted us here, stop and

wait.

"Beta James Summerlin. We're not taking visitors today. Turn around. You can try again next week."

He's young, maybe eighteen or nineteen and he looks uncomfortable. Not sweating or twitching but his eyes dart around quickly.

"On whose authority?" James asks calmly.

"The Alpha's," this guard replies.

"Well, that's ironic. Because Alpha Roberts is in this vehicle with

me."

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