Mated To The King’s Gamma By Jessica Hall

Chapter 72

Abbie POV

The quilt that gnawed at me as he left brought tears to my eyes. He didn’t deserve a broken mate. How he even wanted me after everything was beyond me, and still, I couldn’t stand being touched. Even the briefest of hugs had memories crashing into me. I was useless to him.

When I am sure he is out, I move off the bed and start cleaning up. He never said anything, but I knew the mess we made upset him. Maybe if I clean the place, he will forgive me? Yet some part of me knew it was because I was inadequate, not enough for him. I wasn’t even enough for myself. I wasn’t anything, nothing. Never enough for anyone. My mere existence was to be used and tossed away. The only thing I was good for because taking it was the only way he would get anything from me.

How long before he got sick of waiting? How long before he turned out like the rest of the men that had stumbled into my life? That thought scared me, and left me trembling as I scrubbed the tiles in the bathroom.

I scoured the bathroom until there were nearly no bristles left on my scrubbing brush. The sun was beginning to rise, and I looked to the window when my shadow cast along the wall. My brows furrow in confusion. How long had I been here?

It never ceased to amaze me how I could lose track of time. As if on autopilot, shaking my head, the bathroom was so clean It almost glistened, and the bleach I had spent most of the night and early morning inhaling burned my throat and nose. It was all I could smell. — Packing up my cleaning supplies, I wandered back out to find the bedroom open again.

Gannon had opened it when he left, and I shut it while I cleaned only for it to open again, yet I thought I closed it? Walking over to it, I shut it only for it to push inward.

“Door stays open, Abbie. I can’t hear you with it closed,” comes Liam’s voice. I open the door. Liam nods, then moves back to his room, leaving the door open to his room.

ask you to babysit

folding it and

felt like leather. Lifting up the pile of shirts above it, I find what appeared to be a diary. I grab it out, wondering why it was in there and not on his bookshelf. I sat it on the dresser’s edge

velvet liner and find

it from before opening the

and Gannon’s scent wafts to me, and I move toward the bed and open it, about to ask him where he found a picture of my mother, only to gasp at what I see inside

what it contained. I wished I could unsee what I saw, but like everything else,

the photographs in horror. My parents, all bloody and torn apart, deep claw marks tore half my mother’s face off and down her chest, blood everywhere while her eyes were wide open, staring back at me vacantly, and my father’s head lay beside his

my eyes away from. “Abbie? Abbie, you know,

to clean for you,” I murmur. Liam rushes into the room behind him and stops when he sees the pictures and papers scattered

with such horrific pictures? Why is my mother in his diary? I had so

the dresser before scooping up a sleeping Tyson from the center

will watch him,” Gannon tells me, and I look back at him before seeing the picture from the diary of my mother smiling, looking happy. I pick it up, hoping to remove the image

have a picture of my mother?” Gannon sighs

not

is,” I

of all the things he could have said, that was not anywhere on the list of reasons sifting through my head. It was like he punched me in the stomach. I suck in a breath, feeling winded by his words.