Spoiled by my Ex's Uncle 4

As Gracie and I had agreed, I was dressed and ready for a night out by 6 p.m., ready to let loose. I’d chosen a slinky black halter dress that hugged my body and accentuated my curves, reminding me of the confident, bold woman I used to be before I met Matt.

The reflection staring back at me in the mirror looked like a stranger—a bold, beautiful woman I hadn’t seen in a long time. Matt had preferred a more subdued version of me, so I’d molded myself to fit that image. I’d become the perfect, timid mate, trying to be everything he wanted. I should have known I’d never be enough.

A car honk sounded outside, signaling Gracie’s arrival. I grabbed my purse and phone, adjusted the straps on my heels, and headed for the front door. I didn’t bother leaving a message for Matt. He hadn’t been home all day, and frankly, I didn’t care whether he came back or not. All I cared about was getting out.

I spotted Gracie’s car parked outside and made a beeline for it. She rolled down the window, waving and flashing me a grin that brought a small smile to my face.

As soon as I settled into the car, the familiar scent of her lavender perfume filled the air. She gave me a once-over, raising a brow. “Damn, girl, you look smoking hot! If that jerk Matt can’t appreciate you, I’ll find you someone who will, and it’ll be his loss!”

I forced a laugh, though it was half genuine. “Thanks,” I said as I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and fastened my seatbelt. “I just need a distraction tonight.”

She flashed a warm smile, her eyes full of encouragement. “Lucky for you, I’m the queen of distractions.” She winked, flipping her hair over her shoulder playfully. “Let’s hit the club and forget about that jerk—for a few hours, or for eternity. I’m not picky.”

I managed a real smile, ready to welcome any distraction she had to offer. The drive was filled with light chatter—Gracie venting about work and a guy who’d been hitting on her at the training center. By day, she worked at the same company as Matt, owned by his uncle, and in the evenings, she trained as a guard. I marveled at how she managed to juggle it all.

Listening to her talk was a welcome distraction. Between her stories about work and the training center to her singing along with the radio, I felt some of the tension in me begin to dissolve.

But despite her best efforts, my thoughts kept drifting back to Matt, to what I’d overheard, and to Faye.

When we arrived at the club, music was already pulsing through the walls, loud enough to hear from the parking lot. I took a deep breath as we stepped inside, the dim lights and crowded dance floor offering the escape I so needed.

Sweaty bodies moved against one another, the walls vibrating with the beat. People were making out in corners, and the bar itself was hopping, the bartender rushing back and forth, prepping drinks—it was every bit the chaotic scene of a club.

Following Gracie’s lead, we headed straight to the bar, wedging our way between patrons. She ordered two shots of pixie dust tequila—the only thing that could intoxicate wolves—before I could protest.

“Drink up,” she insisted, pressing a glass into my hand. “We’re getting wasted tonight.”

I pulled a face, hesitant. Getting wasted wasn’t exactly my plan; I tended to do foolish things when drunk. But when she gave me a pointed look, I sighed and surrendered. The effects would only last a few hours due to our fast metabolism, so maybe it wasn’t the world’s worst idea.

Tipping my head back, I downed the shot in one go, the burn sliding down my throat.

And damn, it felt right.

I’d never been much of a drinker. Back with my old pack, I didn’t drink at all. When I joined the New Moon Pack, I started because Matt brought me along to all kinds of events, but even then, I kept it light.

It was for the best, considering he’d always end up wasted. I drank less so I could get us home safely and keep him from doing anything he’d regret. Because of that, my tolerance had only improved slightly. But tonight, downing three shots in a row, I knew I was in for a long, possibly wild night.

Gracie didn’t say a word, just drank alongside me. After a while, once I’d finally stopped, she leaned back against the bar, giving me her full attention. “All right,” she said. “Spill, baby girl. What’s going on with you and Matt? What did he do this time? Or is someone else giving you trouble?”

I bit my lip, hesitating. Where could I even start without looking like a complete fool? Finally, I swallowed the lump in my throat and said, “It’s Matt,” my voice barely audible over the loud music, my eyes stinging with unshed tears.

Gracie scoffed, clicking her tongue in frustration. “Of course, it’s that asshole,” she muttered, lifting a hand as if to punctuate her words. “He’s always been the problem in your life. What did he do now? Just how badly did he mess up this time?”

I nervously held her gaze, fearing what she’d think of me. But this was Gracie—the reason I’d called her was because I knew she wouldn’t judge me, no matter what. So I decided to rip off the band-aid. I swallowed thickly, my voice barely holding steady. “He’s been lying to me all this time,” I whispered, hating how fragile I sounded. “He’s been using me. All those blood donations—it was all for her.”

“Her?” Gracie frowned, confusion flashing in her eyes. “Who’s ‘her’?”

“Faye,” I replied, the name tasting bitter. “His coworker. He’s been giving my blood to her… for two years.”

“Hold on—wait a second!” She sat up, her back straight. “You mean he’s been taking your blood for another woman, for Fay?” Gracie’s expression darkened, anger flashing in her eyes. She clenched her fists, fury rolling off her. “That fake little bimbo. I never liked her at work. The two of them are always together, but I never imagined it was like this, that he’s been cheating on you with her.”

Her words might have comforted me if I weren’t in the midst of hating myself.

“And he’s been using you for blood for her?” she asked, her voice laced with disbelief.

“She’s sick, and apparently, my blood is the only thing that can help her—or maybe I’m just the only one stupid enough for them to keep draining.”

Gracie shook her head, a frown tugging at her lips. “I always thought it was weird, you donating blood so often. I’ve never heard of that being done to a rogue. But since Matt’s the Beta, I didn’t want to question it—and I knew you’d probably defend him, anyway.”

“He’s been lying to me all along,” I whispered, my voice hoarse. “He’s treated me like a fool and a tool, a means to get blood for her. Nothing more. He said it himself.”

“That damn piece of shit,” she muttered. “He doesn’t even deserve to breathe the same air as you.”

I shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know what to do,” I admitted. “I’ve wasted two years of my life on him.”

“No, no, no, you haven’t,” she insisted, placing her hands on my shoulders, forcing me to meet her gaze. “You learned from this, Leila. You grew. Don’t think of it as wasted time. But you definitely deserve way better than him.”

“I feel trapped.”

“Then we’ll find a way to get you out,” she said firmly. “But for now”—she placed another shot in front of me—“we drink our problems away.”