Page 58 of Lilacs and Leather
“Okay.”
“It’s going to take me time to tell the whole thing, but I need you to stick with me through it and let me get it all out from start to finish before you say anything. If this changes how you feel about me after, I understand. But you should know the truth. I owe you that,” I say, babbling.
“Lydia.”
Rhett stands, the catch in his voice pulling my attention to his face. His eyes are bright, brow lined with worry. He squeezes my hand again before pulling gently, leading me over to the couch. We sit at opposite ends, Rhett turning toward me with his back to the balcony, one foot tucked under his leg. I curl my knees to my chest, hugging them loosely. I open my mouth to start, but Rhett jumps up and rushes back to the island. He comes back with the two ice buckets and the champagne glasses.
“Just in case,” he says, setting them on the coffee table before settling back in his seat.
I take a deep breath to steady myself, but Rhett holds up a hand.
“I just want you to know, before you start, that no matter what you’re about to tell me, I’m not going anywhere,” he says sternly.
I nod, and he settles back, falling silent while I try to figure out how to explain my life story.
Twenty-Three
Lydia
“Have you ever heard the old saying about the best way to boil a frog?”
I stare at the couch cushion between us as I ask the question, deliberately not looking at Rhett.
“I can’t say that I have. What is it?” Rhett asks back, confusion heavy in his reply.
“They say that if you want to boil a frog while it’s still alive, you have to do it slowly. If you turn the heat too high, too fast, the frog will jump out. But if you turn the heat up in tiny increments over time, the frog gets used to each change in the temperature and doesn’t realize that it’s being boiled alive until it’s too late,” I explain.
“Okay,” Rhett says slowly.
I chuckle once darkly. “I met a guy in college. His name was Darren McLaughlin, and he was… everything my parents taught me I should look for in an alpha. He was polite, attentive, generous, good family, all that jazz. When he met my family, they were enamored with him, treated him like one of their own. Jason wasn’t as impressed; told me he was too good to be true. Should have fucking listened.”
“I’m not sure I follow,” Rhett murmurs.
I look up at him, and his brow is pulled down low, turquoise gaze locked on my face, taking in my every breath and twitch. I swallow hard against a sudden lump and let out a long sigh.
“Darren did everything right when I first met him. He spoiled me, loved taking me out, showing me off to his friends, calling me his girlfriend, his petal.” I shudder at the nickname. “But as time went on, he just got weird. I thought nothing of it at first. When he constantly wanted to know where I was, it was because he was worried about my safety. When he passed comments about how he didn’t like the way this friend treated me, or how a classmate was just being nice to me so he could take advantage of me, I believed him. He was looking out for me. What did it matter that I lost contact with all of them, and only really hung out with him and his friends?”
“He was turning up the heat.” Rhett sighs, catching on.
I nod. “By the time he wanted me to move in with him, I didn’t hesitate. It made total sense. We spent all of our time together and living together would just make that easier. But after we signed the lease, it got bad. He didn’t want me to work, saying it was his job as my alpha to provide for us. He insisted that all the bills be in my name, to build my credit of course, but he made paying them difficult because he didn’t want me to have direct access to his bank account.”
“Did he at least do what he said he would and provide?” Rhett questions, a little bite to his voice.
I let out a bark of mirthless laughter. “He made money, and then spent it before he ‘remembered’ that we needed it to keep the lights on and food on the table. So, I did what I had to. I got a part-time job behind his back. He seemed to buy my excuses for a while, probably because I stopped bugging him for money all the time. But when he found out, it was the first time I saw the real Darren.”
“I’m not even mad that you got a job, Lydia. I’m mostly just mad that you thought it was okay to lie about it,” Darren shouts with an exasperated snarl.
“I had to do something! You never give me enough money to take care of the house, so it was get a job or starve,” I throw back, running my hands through my hair.
“You should have asked for more,” Darren says.
“I fucking have, Darren! Repeatedly! But you always say that it’s your money and I can’t tell you what to do with your money.”
“This isn’t even the fucking point. If you wanted to get a job, you should have said something.”
“You told me I can’t, because omegas like me should just let their alphas take care of them.”
“Are you saying that I’m not a good alpha?”