Page 64 of Alpha Brock

“Mind if I hang with you guys for a while?” he asks, a beer bottle dangling from his fingers.

I don’t respond right away- sure, he’s a nice enough guy, but he’s guilty by association.

“Yeah, man, of course,” Reid replies. He shoots me a look that says, ‘get your shit together’.

I’m too far gone.

“Thanks,” Chris sighs, taking a swig of his beer. “One of the girls- I think her name was Quinn? Anyways, she talked everyone into dancing, and I’m not down for that.”

Oh fuck no.My eyes immediately dart to the dance floor, seeking out Astrid. I find her out there shaking her little ass on one of the twins- thank fuck, because if she was doing that to Sam, I would’ve fucking lost it. He’s just bobbing around on the periphery while the girls mostly dance with each other.

Deep breaths. What the fuck is wrong with me?

“So Sam’s the pack’s Beta?” Reid asks, making casual conversation.

“Yup,” Chris nods. “He grew up with Cole and Astrid at the packhouse. He and Astrid used to date, actually.”

I curl my fingers around my glass, bringing it to my lips and slamming down the rest of the whiskey. Then I quickly return it to the table before it splinters into shards in my bare hand from the force of my grip.

Reid’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh yeah?” his eyes flicker past Chris to me.

“Yeah, more than once,” Chris chuckles. “We all thought they’d wind up together. Hell, they probably still will. Those two are meant for each other.”

The tether that I had on my control completely fucking snaps- something inside of me breaks in that moment and I see red. I shoot to my feet, and I don’t even realize they’re carrying me out onto the dance floor until I wind up there, eyes laser-focused on Astrid. Her eyes meet mine, widening, and then that fucking dickwad Sam steps between us.

“What’s up, dude?” he asks, all fucking innocent. My fist connects with his face. I swear I didn’t intend to hit the guy, but suddenly I feel the sting in my knuckles and hear the crack of his jaw and his body goes down to the floor like a sack of potatoes. And I can’t say that I’m not thinking rationally, because truthfully, I’m not thinking at all; I’m on auto pilot. I simply step over his crumpled form to a bewildered Astrid looking at me like a deer in the headlights.

I grab her waist, yanking her in. Leaning my lips down beside her ear as my pulse thunders in my ears. “This is fucking done,” I growl.

Before she can respond, I release my grip on her and turn away, storming toward the door of the bar as everyone else fucking looks on. Guess I caused a goddamn scene. I feel like I can’t breathe until I push the door open and step out.

The air outside is chilly- it bites my skin, but it’s nothing compared to the shards of ice that feel like they’re splintering inside of me right now. I can’t fucking do this again. It all feels too familiar. The trauma of the past juxtaposed with the situation at present is tearing me apart.

I grit my teeth, tugging my hair out of the elastic it’s tied back with, pacing across the parking lot. Then I hear the door open, and I already know it’s her.

Fuck.

“Brock!” Astrid calls out, and I turn to look at her over my shoulder as she stomps over to me like an angry little pixie. “What the fuck was that?!” she demands, throwing her hands on her hips.

I shake my head, scowling. “Just go back in there. Go back to him. I’m done.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?!” she sighs exasperatedly.

I scrub a hand over my face, pressing my eyes closed tightly. “There’s always someone else,” I rasp, my voice barely audible. I bite my lip hard enough to draw blood, shaking my head adamantly. “I’m not doing it again.”

Astrid’s eyes fly wide as she shakes her own head in disbelief, taking a tentative step in my direction. “Brock, you’re making something out of nothing. I don’t have feelings for Sam, we have an understanding…”

“Bullshit,” I spit, narrowing my eyes on her. She freezes. “I see the way that fucking guy looks at you, Astrid. It’s the same way that I…” I turn away, stabbing my fingers through my hair. Dropping my fists to my sides and balling them tightly.

I feel like a nuclear reactor melting down. I take a deep breath and spin back around to face Astrid, my chest heaving. “I can’t fucking do this.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Astrid

I’ve never seen Brock like this before. His eyes are wide, feral, without a trace of humanity left in them. His pain and anger are swirling around him like a category five hurricane, threatening to destroy everything in its wake.

Including me.