Page 98 of Mask and the Magnolia
I’m happy for them, so glad that they get to feel the sun on their faces and the crisp autumn breeze on their skin but O’Brien and Stevenson had them out before I even got here and knowing them, they’re all playing basketball or something else stupid and they’ll be gone until well after I’m dead.
I was hopeful Des was around, the resident log didn’t have him anywhere other than his apartment but when I went to see, I found it empty. I looked all through the common areas, even checked the stairwell in case he was hiding for some reason that only made sense to him, but he wasn’t. Ivan was the one who informed me that Jones came and got Des for his shot.
DesmondhatesJones.
He might even hate him more than he hates Nurse Hubbard but that guy gets under his skin in a way that has him seeing red. Which means he had to put on the straight jacket and muzzle just to get his injection because good old Quimby is afraid of my alpha.
He doesn’t have to say it for us to see it, it’s pretty damn obvious.
Still, it’s going to be a process for him to get his monthly shot and I don’t anticipate him coming back anytime soon.
Once again, I’m alone with my thoughts, and I’m freaking out.
If that little teeny bopper twat with fake tits and an IQ lower than her cup size ran to my father about what she saw last night, I’m screwed. My ship is sunk and so is Isaak’s, and I don’t even want to think about what will happen to our men once we aren’t here to run things.
My phone stops ringing and I blow out a breath. I just want a little peace before shit hits the fan. A couple moments of silence to reflect on the few short months of bliss I was granted before it’s all taken away.
I should text Isaak.
I didn’t tell him what happened last night, I didn’t want to ruin his time out since he rarely takes the opportunity to go anywhere, but I need to prepare him. He has to have a heads up or else he’ll be blindsided when he comes in here to find my corpse slumped over his desk.
Like I’ve finally snapped and lost my mind, I rush to my purse and dump it out all over the floor, searching through all my crap until I find my phone. I ignore the thirty seven text messages from my father, swipe out of his twenty missed calls then get to our thread as quickly as possible. Then I draw a complete blank.
The jumbled mess of thoughts and fears float from my head in record time as I see the last thing Isaak sent me.
Good morning, my precious flower.
It’s such an Isaak thing to say, his twist on what Des started and all the boys have picked up. I’ve never appreciated being named after a plant more than when I hear them say things likethat to me. It’s silly, but it’s ours, and I wouldn’t trade that for anything.
I scroll a little and see his message from last night, one he sent while tipsy and sneaking around the ward.
I love you. They love you. They told me to tell you. Rather crudely in some cases but the sentiment remains. You have four men here who love you and that should be the last thing you think about before you fall asleep.
It was.
I was anxiety riddled and freaking out, but I thought about them all night and it helped me from having a full blown panic attack that would have easily lasted six hours. I didn’t sleep but I was able to do a little daydreaming to calm myself down thanks to his text.
So, even though I should let him know the end is nigh, I smile a little and send the only thing Isaak truly needs to know.
ME:I love you.
My phoneimmediately starts vibrating in my hand and since I can see the screen, I know it’s not my omega responding. No, it’s the Dean calling me and my hands start to shake the longer it rings. My heart is pounding in my ears, my palms are tingling. I’m suddenly sweating buckets and as one call ends and another starts, rapid fire messages start coming through.
THE DEAN: Answer your goddamn phone.
THE DEAN: Magnolia
THE DEAN: This is fucking bullshit and you know it.
THE DEAN: Answer me or so help me I will make you regret the day you decided to challenge me.
THE DEAN: You’re finished, Magnolia. Done. No more fucking around.
THE DEAN: I’m coming to the institution.
Then everything stops.
No more ringing, no more texts.
