Knot a Good Idea (Bittersweet Omegas #4)

Chapter 1

1

APRIL

“April?”

I flinch so hard I bang the top of my head on the underside of the counter. “ Shit! ” I hiss under my breath, grimacing.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Devyn squeaks behind me as I kneel on the café floor. “I didn’t mean to scare you!”

“You didn’t,” I mutter, even though adrenaline courses through me. My head throbs, and I move out from under the counter, the fallen receipt in my hand as I stand.

Despite what I said, my friend and employee did scare the hell out of me.

“Are you hurt? You’re not bleeding, are you?” Devyn’s wide eyes are mournful. “I wasn’t thinking, I shouldn’t have snuck up on you?—”

“Devyn. Stop. I’m fine,” I say, lightly touching the top of my head. I check my hand, and thankfully, there’s no blood. “It’s not a big deal.”

But Devyn’s sweet Omega scent is still soured. “I’m sorry,” she says again. “I shouldn’t have snuck up on you, I didn’t mean to?—”

“Devyn. It’s fine,” I mutter, frustrated by the pity in her eyes. “It’s my fault, not yours.”

But she worries her lip and her delicate brow is pulled into a frown all on my behalf.

I hate it.

It’s been six months of my friends and coworkers walking on eggshells around me.

“What the hell was that noise?” Skylar enters the stockroom, then eyes me. “Everything okay, April?”

“Fine,” I huff, crumpling the receipt in my hand. I refuse to look at my best friend, unable to see one more ounce of sympathy in her eyes. “I just hit my head. No big deal.”

“It’s my fault,” Devyn pouts, the lilt of her light voice grating to my ears.

“No. It’s no one’s fault,” I snap. “It’s just something that happened.”

Skylar looks to me, then back at Devyn, frowning. “Devyn, let me handle this,” she says softly. “Go help out front.”

I swallow. I don’t need to be handled.

There’s nothing to handle.

If there’s a problem, I should be the one solving it, not Skylar or Devyn.

“Hey.” My best friend grabs her iced coffee off the stockroom shelf and takes a sip. “How hard did you hit your head?”

“I mean, I wasn’t hit by a car, if that’s what you’re asking,” I deadpan, and she laughs so hard she chokes on her coffee.

“You asshole,” she chuckles. “I had a concussion.”

“And I don’t . But Devyn decided it’s her job to be a mother hen to me even though I’m ten years older than her.”

Skylar sighs. “She doesn’t know what we went through. She doesn’t get it . She’s trying her best.”

“I know her intentions are good it’s just…frustrating.”

She leans against the shelf, eyeing me warily. “What do you mean?”

“She treats me like I’m made of glass,” I mutter. “Like she’s scared to come up to me and say the wrong thing.”

“She does that to me too, April. Like, all the time.”

But Skylar’s not telling the truth. Devyn stopped acting that way around her months ago. Now, Devyn’s hesitant questions and cautious tones are only reserved for me.

“It’s not just her. Everyone does it. And I’m tired of it,” I murmur.

Skylar swallows and looks away from me. “I’m sorry,” she mutters. “We don’t mean to.”

Frustration builds in me, self-doubt and shame causing tears to form in my eyes.

Skylar and I went through the same thing, yet she came out of it well adjusted. She has a pack now: three Alphas that love and adore her. They’re great men—and the ones who helped rescue me.

But I didn’t come back well-adjusted like my best friend did.

I came back wrong.

Something inside me is warped, and I’m convinced everyone knows it.

Luke pokes his head in from the front of the café. “Hey, Skye. River’s here.”

Skylar’s eyes light up and her scent sweetens. “I’ll be there in a sec,” she says excitedly.

Luke grins at me then leaves.

I wave my hand. “Go say hi to him for me,” I say to Skylar. “I’ll finish sales reports back here.”

“Are you sure? You don’t have to?—”

“ Go . I promise I’m fine back here.”

She hesitates. “I’ll try to be better,” she says softly. “I mean it, April.”

I nod. “Thanks.”

Then, she leaves the stockroom, and I’m alone with my throbbing head and dark thoughts.

“You haven’t eaten much,” my mom says as we sit at the kitchen table. “Is it too salty?”

I give her a half smile. “Of course not,” I murmur, spinning the pasta on my fork. I learned to cook and bake from her—her question is absurd, and she knows it.

It’s her subtle way of trying to figure out what headspace I’m in.

I don’t know how to tell her that food doesn’t bring me as much joy as it used to. In fact, as delicious as I know my mom’s cooking is, I can’t seem to taste it.

Eating isn’t exciting anymore. It’s something I need to do to survive, and that’s it.

Nothing excites me anymore, and it terrifies me.

My mom keeps an eye on me, watching as I struggle to chew a mouthful of food. “We have ice cream for dessert,” she adds. “I made some whipped cream, too.”

I swallow. “That sounds fun.”

Nothing sounds fun.

We continue to eat in silence, but I can still feel her watching me.

She knows me too well. Before the… incident happened, we were close. We ran April’s Café together, managing the business.

But since Skylar’s pack found me in that abandoned truck, it’s been different.

Every conversation is stilted.

My own mother walks on eggshells around me, terrified she’ll say the wrong thing to me.

And every day, it reminds me of how much I’ve failed to cope.

I clench my fork and meet her gaze. “What?” I snap, immediately feeling horrible.

But my anger continues to pulse off me in waves, difficult to rein in.

“Nothing,” she says, giving me a patient smile.

I want to fling the fork at her.

“You have to stop looking at me like that ,” I hiss. “Like I’m incapable of functioning.”

“I never said you were?—”

“It doesn’t matter. You act like it, all the time. Just stop, please. I can’t take it anymore.”

Mom pulls her lips into a thin line. “Fine,” she says. “But I am going to treat you differently, because you are different. You’re not the same person you were a year ago, and that’s not a bad thing. You’ve had different life experiences?—”

I laugh bitterly, interrupting her. “I was fucking kidnapped . You can just say it.”

“Yes, you were kidnapped and held hostage, and it hasn’t even been a year. The therapist said the best way to communicate with you is?—”

“I don’t care what she said! Listen to what I’m saying!” My voice increases as my emotions spill over. “I’m telling you—stop treating me like I’m made of glass. I can’t handle it anymore.”

Mom narrows her eyes and slams her fork down. “Fine. You want to talk like adults, then?”

“Yes. That’s what I’ve been telling you this entire time! For one moment, please, stop handling me with kid gloves.”

Traitorous tears prick at my eyes and my throat closes up. If I start crying now, I’ll look ridiculous.

“Okay. Then let’s start talking about the café and our budget,” Mom says.

I cringe internally, dreading where the conversation is going to lead.

“You’ve been reading the reports, correct?” she asks.

I swallow. “Yes.”

“And I’m assuming you’ve done the math already?”

“Yes.” I stare at my plate, wanting to disappear.

Of all the conversations we could have, I did not want it to be this one.

“Then you know we’re about two heads above what makes financial sense,” she continues. “And we need to figure out a way to let Devyn and someone else go.”

My eyes meet her calculated ones. “Wait. What?”

I didn’t know it was that bad. I didn’t know we would have to actually fire anyone.

Mom sighs. “Devyn’s payroll is the one that’s hurting us the most. She only stepped up as a manager once you left. And when you came back…we just really don’t need an assistant manager, April.”

But Devyn stepped up while I was gone. She’s become an incredible baker, and has flourished working under Skylar and me, all at nineteen years old.

“Then demote her,” I mutter. “And divide the hours between Jamie and Luke. We don’t need to fire anyone.”

“April. You said you did the math.”

My mom is right. She’s always been smart and business savvy, but the idea of letting my friends go…

“Devyn can find a job anywhere, April,” she continues.

I shake my head. “There has to be another way.”

“There is no other way, honey. I don’t want to do this—but we’re bleeding money. All of our costs have gone up, and?—”

“Then fire me.”

Mom blinks. “What?”

“Let me go, give Devyn my job, and just halve Jamie and Luke’s hours.”

“April, I’m not doing that?—”

“We both know I haven’t been a good manager since…since then .”

She shakes her head. “That’s not happening. You need the stability of this job, and Skylar wouldn’t allow it either.”

“I don’t care what anyone allows. We can’t let Devyn go.” My voice cracks. “She’s done too much, and you know it.”

Mom sighs. “I don’t know how we could keep her, April. I promise, I looked for other ways. I’ve run it by the accountant, too. It’s not financially viable.”

A lump forms in my throat so big I’m unable to talk through it. I just shake my head and look away, blinking away tears.

This is my fault. Devyn had to step up while I was gone, and when I came back, I couldn’t drive sales enough to cover her payroll.

And Luke and Jamie have done more than pull their weight these last few months—letting either of them go feels awful.

“I’ll try again,” my mom says gently. “Okay? I’ll run the numbers one more time, and we’ll touch base about this again in a week.”

I nod, knowing it’s pointless.

The numbers will be the same a week later.

There has to be a way to save Devyn, Luke, and Jamie.

I just need to figure out how.