Omega's Second Chance (Second Chance book 1)

5

⚠️Chapter contains depictions of abuse and mentions of violence. If that's not your cup of tea, the start will be marked with a ▫️, and the end will be marked with a ▪️

Clayton sat behind his desk, trying to to focus on his paperwork. Keyword: trying. It was extremely difficult to focus due to his mate on the other side of the room who was conversing with his no longer catatonic father. Finally giving up completely, he set down the paper he had been reading the same line of for the last fifteen minutes, and began watching his two most important people interact.

"So then she said, 'that's not the telephone, that's a pickle!'" Jackson exclaimed, laughing and causing Emerson to also chuckle a bit.

Clayton smiled and chimed in, "Who was it that mistook a pickle for a phone?"

Jackson snapped his head up to his mate and his face lit up. He struggled to his feet from the couch, requiring Emerson's aid in order to stand, before he waddled over to his mate. Once next to Clayton behind the desk, the boy simply climbed into his mate's lap and made himself comfortable.

"I was just telling your father about the time that my grandmother came to visit shortly before she passed when I was about five. My father had been grilling burgers that night, and my mother liked slicing her own pickles. So she had pulled a pickle out of the jar and set it on a plate to cut it up.

"Before she had the chance, my grandmother came into the kitchen to ask if she could do anything to help. At this time, I'm sitting at the island opposite of my mother peeling the lettuce so I have a perfect view of what happened next.

"Anyway, as my mother begins to explain to my grandmother that she has everything under control, the phone rings. Now, our phone was a cordless and was out of the cradle on the island right by where my mother was working.

"So the phone rings, and my grandmother quickly picks up the pickle off the plate, holds it up to her ear and starts talking into it. Of course, there's nobody there. She turns to my mother, who had answered the phone when my grandmother started talking to the pickle, and says, 'Dear, your telephone doesn't seem to be working.'" Jackson made his voice higher and frail sounding to mimic his grandmother's voice.

"My mother moves the phone from her ear and says, 'that's not the telephone, mom, that's a pickle.' She returns to speaking on the phone, completely missing when my grandmother looks down at the pickle in her hand and mutters, 'I was wondering why the phone felt so wet.'" Jackson laughed more and this time Clayton joined in, his father also enjoying the story.

Once they all calmed down, Clayton said, "I didn't want to mention anything during our moment this morning, but I couldn't help noticing a few scars on your back, Jackson. Do you think you could tell me what happened?"

Instantly, Jackson stiffened in Clayton's hold. He had honestly forgotten all about that time. He curled up tighter into Clayton's chest and began to tremble, worrying the Alpha.

"Jackson? You still with me?"

But Jackson wasn't with him. He was back in his memories, remembering how he got the scars on his back, something he tried to tell his parents about.

Jackson was about 16. He had met Phoenix and began shifting consciously for the first time only a few years prior. His father still sometimes brought him to the pack house when visiting Alphas came, but it didn't happen very often anymore, and he had wondered why.

On this particular day, his father brought him to meet an Alpha from a neighboring pack, an odd man who continuously stared at Jackson and licked his lips like the boy was a meal. It left Jackson feeling very uncomfortable.