Chapter 162: Park And Vent

Lorali

"I am so done with Torin." I sighed, pissed at the world.

I sat on the wooden seat of a squeaky park swing, kicking my legs back and forth in a slow, jagged rhythm that did absolutely nothing to soothe the burning rage in my chest. Beside me, the chains of the neighboring swing creaked softly as Erin pushed himself back and forth, casually licking a scoop of vanilla ice cream off a waffle cone.

I dug my plastic spoon into my cup of strawberry ice cream with enough force to shatter the plastic handle, staring violently at the little artificial cherries floating in the sweet syrup.

I would have called Astrid, if she wasn’t as drunk as a skunk at her house right now, barely able to stand on her own two feet. That girl is completely gone tonight, probably passed out on her marble foyer floor after whatever trainwreck of an evening she had.

So, I called Erin instead. Out of all the people I knew, he was the only one who wouldn’t give me some sanitized, pre-packaged advice or tell me to calm down. I wasn’t about to call my other friends either, not because they weren’t good listeners, but because their lives were so absurdly, disgustingly perfect. They didn’t have psychotic Alpha bosses threatening their entire existence. I didn’t want to drag my toxic, flaming dumpster-fire of a life into their peaceful little bubbles. Erin, at least, was grounded. He was a good listener, even if he looked at the world like it was a playground.

I took a sharp breath, the cold air hitting the back of my throat like a blade. "He literally pulled out fabric swatches, Erin. Fabric swatches. He sat across from me in that godforsaken study, sipping Scotch, and told me he’d already picked out the three-tier lemon raspberry cake. The wedding even has an official date now! It’s moving forward, and there is literally nothing I can do about it!"

I slammed my spoon back into the paper cup, my shoulders rigid.

"He’s threatening to stop my entire career if this wedding doesn’t happen," I snarled, my voice dropping. "He looked me in the eye and said he’d revoke my rink privileges, and tear up my entry forms for the upcoming qualifiers. I am so over him! I am so pissed off right now I feel like I could throw this entire cup of ice cream at Oracle!"

I whipped my head toward the edge of the small pond about twenty yards away.

There sat Oracle, perched on a wooden bench, peacefully breaking off tiny pieces of white bread and tossing them to a flock of ducks floating on the dark water. He looked completely oblivious, his frame clad in an oversized dark hoodie, looking like a discarded shadow in the twilight.

It irritates me even more that he had to come with me! My eyes burned as I glared at Oracle’s back. Torin won’t even let me breathe. Now every single time I leave the penthouse wanting to get away from anything that reminds me of spade pack, Oracle is somewhere in the distance. You can trust that wherever I am, he’s lurking nearby.

Erin took a bite of his ice cream, watching the ducks glide across the pond before turning his dark eyes back to me.

"So, how are you going to handle the matter if you don’t want the wedding to happen?" Erin asked smoothly, his voice a steady anchor against my spiraling temper. "What are you actually going to do about it, Lorali?"

I let out a bitter, lifeless laugh, leaning my head back against the rusted iron chain of the swing.

"Well, there’s nothing I can do about it," I muttered, staring up at the darkening sky. "I have to actually go to this wedding. I have to participate, wear the stupid white dress, stand at the altar, and play the dutiful little Omega. He’s holding my career hostage, Erin. Figure skating is the only thing I have left that’s truly mine. If he ruins that, I have nothing."

Erin tilted his head, studying me thoughtfully as he swung in a small, gentle arc.

"You know," Erin said quietly, "I have known Torin from a very, very young age. And I doubt it that he will actually go through with his word. He is a lot of talk, Lorali. I don’t think he’s a lot of action when it comes to extreme measures like destroying your life."

I whipped my eyes over to him, my gaze sharp enough to cut glass. "I am not willing to take that chance with my career, Erin. You don’t know the look in his eyes when he says those things. He enjoys watching me squirm."

Erin looked at me for a long, quiet moment, a sympathetic sigh escaping his lips. "Your life is tough."

"Tell me about it," I groaned, running a hand through my hair and burying my face in my palms.

One day,I am going to run Torin over with my car. I will put the engine in reverse, back over his lying, manipulative chest, and then drive forward again just to make sure he’s flat. I want this man dead. I want him six feet under a concrete slab.

It was infuriating because my career was finally on the right track! Scarlett had called me just this morning to tell me she was securing me an assistant manager to handle the sudden surge of media attention.

Skaters of my caliber were supposed to have teams! I had actual ad campaigns rolling in! I was about to be rolling in money, building my own empire, becoming completely independent, and Torin Spade just had to be the immovable brick wall standing right in the middle of my path.

"You know what?" I blurted out, lifting my head and glaring at the distant trees. "My friend is getting married next month, and I’m not even going to bring him as my plus-one. I’m going alone. So yeah, screw him."

Erin let out a low, smooth laugh, shaking his head as he finished off his waffle cone. "With all sincerity, Lorali, I do not think Torin will care whether or not he goes to a wedding with you or attends wedding events." ℯ𝔴ℯ

"Yeah, well, he should care!" I snapped, my foot digging into the woodchips beneath the swing to stop my motion. "I just don’t know how I’m going to get back at him without actually committing murder. Like... this entire problem would be instantly solved if I just killed the prick."

"Well," Erin said reasonably, leaning back against his swing’s ropes, "how about you calm down first? Then you can roll out the pitchforks."

I glared at him, but he just smiled back, unbothered. Damn does he really have a nice smile, I wonder who his dentist is? I should visit the guy or girl, she really is skilled or he might have been born with such teeth.

Wait. I have lost it (Thanks to Torin) thinking about the guy’s teeth. Someone save me.

"Perhaps for now," Erin continued, his tone turning analytical, "do what Torin wants. Play along. Wait until your career actually becomes something, until you’re someone undeniable in the sports world, and then just divorce him. Or at least hold off the wedding until you get past regionals and actually win a championship. Once you have a trophy and national backing, you can start putting on all the bratty behavior you want. You have no idea how many sports stars put on bratty behaviors the moment they have something massive to back up their name."

"I know," I murmured softly, staring down at my melting ice cream. "It’s just... a lot. It’s crazy. I’m even out here bothering you with all this garbage, dumping my baggage on you while you’re trying to eat ice cream."

Erin waved his hand dismissively in the air. "Nah, don’t sweat it. I don’t mind. I have nothing better to do with my time than to listen to you, and honestly... I kind of like listening to your problems. Makes my problems seem tiny."

I raised an eyebrow at him, a faint, genuine smirk breaking through my sour mood. "What are your problems, Erin? Other than having, you know... no pack?"

Erin looked out toward the pond, his expression turning unreadable, cool, and distant. "Well, it’s just business. My problems are just business. That’s it."

I looked at his calm, composed side-profile, letting out a heavy sigh. "I wish I was you."

Erin turned his dark eyes back to me, his expression flat, devoid of any humor. "I wouldn’t wish you were me, Lorali."

The words hung in the cool evening air, heavy and cryptic, but before I could ask him what he meant, he pushed himself off the swing and tossed his napkin into a nearby trash bin.

"Come on," Erin said gently. "Your shadow over by the pond looks like he’s ran out of breadcrumbs."