Mated in the shadow of my sister by lady gwen
Chapter 188

Chapter 0188

(Nick POV)

As I left the packhouse, I found myself once again wishing that I did not know what I now knew. As crazy as it sounds, a part of me longed for my old life back. You know, the fake life. The life in which Stephanie was a dead saint, my mate loved me, told me everything, and did not keep secrets from me; and my mother was a good, honest, and respectable beta female.

Not knowing what else to do, and not having anyone else to reach out to, I decided to drink my feelings away. I have never been much of a drinker, but I needed something to get me through.

I briefly considered going to a bar, but then I remembered how drunk James used to get, and I decided that I did not want anyone to see me intoxicated like that. Realizing that I had plenty of whiskey at home, I decided that I would just go home and drink that. (I bought a bottle of whiskey for every male in James’ wedding party, thinking we could each have a bottle after he said “I do” to Sheila. That obviously did not

happen.)

I made it through two bottles before I began to feel the effects of the whiskey. That is when the “great”

whiskey-inspired ideas began.

The first “great” idea that I had was to drunk-text Jenny and beg her to take me back.

Me: “Jenny, I love you so much. Please come home.”

She did not respond, so I sent another one.

Me: “Jenny, you were right about my family. They are awful. Please come home and I will go with you.

I love you.”

Still, she did not respond. That is when the second “great” whiskey-inspired idea hit me. Hint: it was not

a great idea at all. It was actually a d&mn st upid one.

Specifically, I decided that I needed to remind Jenny what she was missing.

I went to the bathroom, dropped my pants, and begin to ma sturbate while thinking of Jenny seven years ago on the night that I marked her. I thought about her soft, cr eamy skin and how delicious every inch of her tasted.

Once my member was standing perfectly at attention, I pulled my phone out of my hoodie pocket and took a few pictures of Mr. Longjohn in all of his glory. (Mr. Longjohn was the name that my drunk self had. decided to give my member that evening.)

Once done taking pictures, I texted Jenny again.

Me: “Jenny, this is Mr. Longjohn. He misses you a lot. Please come home and play with him. He will never be the same without you.”

I waited for a response, but one never came. I decided to go ahead and take care of Mr. Longjohn myself, rubbing one out for him until he got his release.

I fell only fractionally better after that. I decided to go back to the kitchen and polish off another four

bottles of whiskey.

un on the!

The next morning, I woke room couch with a pounding headache. There were empty whiskey bottles and beer cans everywhere (apparently when I ran out of whiskey, I moved on to beer).

“Nolan?”

“I am here,” he responded in a judgmental tone.

“What happened last night?”

“You got drunk.”

“Why do I feel like I am hungover? There wasn’t wolfsbane in any of that whiskey.”

“I decided not to heal you. You were pretty out of control last night. I decided to let you feel how st upid

it was this morning, so that you know not to do that again.”

I groaned.

“What did I do?”

“Besides name your member ‘Longjohn’? And take pictures of him?”

“What?”

“Yeah. You also drunk-texted the pictures to Jenny.”

“Wow” I had never gotten that drunk before. And I had never sexted in my life.

“What else did I do?” I asked Nolan.

“You also texted James a few times. Thankfully nothing as embarrassing as what you sent to Jenny. But then you decided to make a blanket out of all of Jenny’s underwear and undergarments that she didn’t take with her.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes, look down.”

I looked down and immediately saw what Nolan was talking about. I had tied the ends of Jenny’s bras to the ends of her underwear and camisoles, and then figured out a way to put the items in repeated rows. The creation looked nothing like a blanket and everything like a big blob of clothes tied together, but I guess my drunk self thought it was great and used it to cover up when I fell sleep on the couch.

Classy.

“Goddess, I am never drinking again,” I linked Nolan.

“Good.”

I got up and dragged myself to the shower. Once done in the shower, I walked into our bedroom… I mean, my bedroom… to get some fresh clothes.

That is when I noticed Jenny’s phone sitting on her nightstand. Did she leave it there on purpose? Or was

there a possibility that she forgot it and would come back for it?

“Either way, you might want to delete your messages from last night,” Nolan suggested. “They were

pretty awful.”

“Great Idea,” I conceded.

I went over and picked up Jenny’s phone. Thankfully, the password was still the same (my birthday).

After deleting the messages that I sent her, I went to Jenny’s “deleted” folder to make sure that the

messages were permanently deleted.

And that is when my world shattered once again.

Soon, I found myself reading deleted messages between Jenny and James, and Jenny and Joey, and

Jenny and Dr. Miller,

I could not believe my eyes.

I knocked on the door for the tenth time. I was getting impatient.

“OPEN UP! NOW! I KNOW THAT YOU ARE IN THERE!

I knocked again. Still nothing. I rang the doorbell.

Finally, the door opened.

“What the hell, Nick?” Joey asked angrily. “Do you know what time it is?”

Yeah, I knew what time it was. After reading all the deleted messages between Jenny, James, Joey, and Dr. Miller, I spent the rest of the day drinking. (So much for my no-drinking plan.) It was only after I had wasted another whole day that I decided what I wanted to do.

I pushed past Joey into his house. Joey closed the door.

“What is your problem, Nick? It is the middle of the night and you are at my house, smelling like booze.”

“I want in,” I told him.

“What?”

“I want in,” I repeated.

“I do not know what you are talking about,” Joey responded.

“Bullsh&t.” I took Jenny’s phone out of my pocket and tossed it to him. “The Movement. I want in.”

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