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Chapter 7 - I Don't Want Her To See Him

 If Regan hadn't been so competitive, I wouldn't be so ordinary and disregarded. Or maybe my mate would have recognized me a little sooner.

"You haven't told me why you're stranded, Aaron. What about your phone? Have you even reached out to your parents?" She pauses and says in a low voice, "is someone in your family trying to get you killed?"

Isn't it wonderful? Everyone in the family wants me dead. And I found my mate in the process of being saved. Should I thank them? "I'll be going back home in three days. I'll get my life back on track soon. You don't have to worry about me." I end the topic and we talk about something else and I'm grateful she understands.

♠ ♠ ♠

During dinner, Leticia spares me no glance as she dish out the cobb salad. She's on her phone as she slowly eats. It's as if she's trying hard not to look at me. I'm tempted to kick her shin and yell, 'notice me, girl!' Her phone keeps dinging and I wonder if she's chatting with Regan. I feel jealousy licking at my insides. My food tastes like candle and I lose my appetite.

I come outside for air but mostly to catch her outside. She isn't out. I still by the porch, waiting. Waiting. Waiting... She doesn't come out. I still wait. No sign of her. She's very upset. I walk inside my room, filled with disappointment and self-hate.

By morning, she wakes earlier than yesterday, and I see her carry Regan's suit jacket on her forearm; his scent from that piece of clothing makes me want to snatch it up from her and tear it to shreds. It is washed and half dried.

"Good morning, Ms. Olsen," I manage.

She shoots me a glance and forces a smile, murmuring, "good morning."

At least, she isn't that upset with me now. I am tempted to ask her questions. Like, why wasn't she out last night? Why is she still carrying Regan's clothing? Should I burn it for her? Instead, I ask, "did you have a good night?"

"I surely did."

With nothing left to say, I mutter an "okay" and leave the sitting room. I watch her through the doorless dining room. She's dropping bowls of porridge she might have made herself.

She yells, "everyone, come over for breakfast." I enter the dining room and sit. She hands me a bowl of porridge, some hard bread and some raspberries.

"You look happy. Any good news?" Mrs. Olsen asks her when she gets to the table and sits. Leticia gives her her servings.

"Oh." She pouts, "is me smiling a problem now?" I like how open and easy she gets with her mother. After spending two days with both mother and daughter, I believe I want to be part of this family too.

"Just asking," Mrs. Olsen shrugs, "I want to be part of the celebration too."

"Hilarious," Leticia says amidst her mother's laughter.

I drink the porridge and I like the taste of it. I imagine myself in my little house with Leticia as my wife, the cubs clambering to be served first. I imagine at least six boys.

♠ ♠ ♠

By the third day, I still can't tell Leticia that I'm her fucking mate and my time here has ended. Mrs. Olsen hands me a velvety Tshirt and a pair of black denim pants, exactly my size. She adds new boots and a belt to the gift.

"I'll miss your company," she tells me, standing by the door which is now wide open. I must have left it ajar.

I buckle my belt and slip into the black boots. "Well, that makes both of us."

"I still can't understand why you youngsters enjoy torturing yourselves so much. Just go tell her before you leave."

"She'll think I'm making it up to stay here some more."

"And if she believes you. Will you stay?"

I laugh.

Leticia walks in on us and kisses her mother's cheek. "Mommy. I'm off for work now." I look away, knowing how strong my body reacts every time she shows a little act of intimacy to someone who isn't me. "Oh, are you leaving now?"

I look at her and sees she staring right at me. "Uh... Yeah. Yeah."

"Should I accompany you?"

"Uh... Yeah."

"Alright. Are you ready to go?"

I look around me. I made the bed. There's nothing I'm leaving behind. I came here with nothing. I wish I'm leaving something. Something to make me come back just to be with her again. Mrs. Olsen waves me off with a sly smile, "just go."

Leticia eyes her. Suspicious is written all over her face. I hold back a laugh. "Thank you, Mrs. Olsen," I give her a warm hug and pull away, holding her elbows, "for everything."

"Anytime," she hiss playfully and I hug her again. I join Leticia outside and we walk forward. I ask her, "are you taking me to my house?"

"Is that a problem?"

"You really don't have to. Wait. You still don't trust me? You still want to know if I'm a Turner, right?"

She smirks, "is that obvious?"

I frown. She wants a glimpse of Regan. I eye the bag in her grip. The blue clothing sticking out makes everything apparent. Why now? If I lie and say Regan isn't my brother, it will only put more distance between us. And if I let her into the mansion, Regan sees her—which I'm sure he will—he will try and get close to her. He may even claim her as his mate. Who knows? I'm stuck in a dilemma. I don't want her to see him.

She flags down a taxi and we hop in. "Turner Street, please," she says and the taxi moves. We utter no words to each other throughout the ride. She suddenly finds the city of country M more appealing than I am. The taxi stops by the fence. We climb down and she pays the fare. The taxi zooms off.

"Holy shit, you're really Alpha Regan's brother." She grins, "though, you look nothing like him."

That joke does nothing to calm the turmoil bubbling in my stomach. The gates slid open and we're welcomed in a mini town; a flurry of activities overwhelming her. She is gaping at everything and everywhere including the servants who are working. I cringe in embarrassment. "Now, you've seen where I live. You can go to work now."

She shakes her head defiantly. "Not until I give Alpha Regan his suit jacket back."

I sigh and keep walking. We arrive before the entrance of the house and I sight Regan along with his beta, coming out, heading towards us. I curse under my breath. Regan has his hands clasped behind his back and he has his face down, listening to his beta talk. As if on instinct, he looks up. The surprise etched on his face makes me livid. I must admit, I'm worried his good looks might start to affect Leticia.

"Alpha Regan," I hear Leticia whisper. There's so much sweetness in her voice. Toomuch sweetness.

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