Jame’s [POV]
Grey fucked up, and it’s only a matter of time before Renee tells Harper the truth.
We agreed we would tell her the first week.
We fucking agreed, then Grey had to use his stupid logic and make it seem like it still wasn’t the time to tell her.
He argued that Harper finding out she was an Omega was shocking enough.
That she was traumatized and it was too soon for her to know everything.
I went along with it because I’m fuckingstupid, and now she’s asking questions I can’t answer.
Harper’s smart.
She’s catching on that we’re full of shit.
So, when I find Beau giving Grey shit for hurting Harper’s best friend, I join in.
“We’re telling her today,” I hiss at him, as I grab a water bottle from the front room. “She’s going to figure it out, Grey.”
It turns into a shouting match, and Charlotte gets involved as well.
We all hid the truth.
And even if we thought it was the right thing to do at the time, we need to put a stop to it.
If we don’t, we’re no better than that asshole that concocted a new identity for her.
But Harper storms into the front room, Wilson trailing behind her, and her scent is heady and spicy.
She’s angry. But beyond that, she’s hurt.
And my fucking sketchbook is in her hands.
The sketchbook that has…
Oh, fuck.
Too late.
Ever since she encouraged me to use healthier avenues to manage my emotions, she’s always been my favorite muse.
Shit.
“Telling me what, today?” she asks softly, holding up my sketchbook. “Does it have anything to do with this?”
I swallow.
She chuckles humorlessly. “Yeah. You all are telling me the truth right fucking now, or I swear to God I’m leaving and never coming back.”
History repeats itself.
“Wouldn’t be the first time, Princess,” I grimace, and her eyes narrow.
“What are you talking about?” she demands. “What does that mean?”
Grey steps forward, holding out a hand. “Harper-”
“No,” she hisses at him. “You stay away from me. You’re the person I trust the least in this place.”
Oh, shit.
Grey looks like he’s been slapped, and he freezes, stunned.
“You told my best friend to stay away from me,” she continues, her voice breaking. “No one dictates who I see or don’t see. Ever.”
Grey stays silent.
She turns to Beau, sighing sadly. “You knew me,” she whispers to him. “You’ve met me before.”
He nods, chastised.
The truth is out.
“You all knew who I was. Including you.” She turns to Charlotte. “I just…why? Why, Charlotte?”
“Honey,” she whispers sadly. “You had a new name. You were someone completely different. I wasn’t sure what to do.”
Harper frowns. “What do you mean, a new name?”
Truth be told, I like her new name.
But Charlotte shakes her head, refusing to answer.
This isn’t her burden. It’s ours, for ordering her to stay silent about Harper’s true identity.
“Your real name is Evelynn,” I tell her.
Her gaze turns back to me, her eyes wide.
“Stop. Lying,” she hisses.
“It is,” Beau adds. “But you came here under Harper, so we called you that.”
“Harper’s your middle name,” Grey adds quietly.
She grips the sketchbook tightly, her knuckles turning white. “How do I know all of you?” She demands.
The fireplace crackles and Wilson curl up next to it, unbothered by the situation.
The silence is long as she looks between us, her eyes shiny.
No, baby, don’t cry…
“You’re our Omega,” I murmur. “We’re your pack.”