by Piper Scott
“Mm.” Cedric set the empty shell down and picked up the next egg. “What about Gabriel, in particular?”
“You said he spooked when you were outside. I’m no psychologist, but that seems to be a pretty big red flag, don’t you think?”
“It was one time. He was with someone he barely knew in a place he’d never seen before. I came into this knowing that there was something strange going on. I think, if skittish is the extent of his damage, it’s not the end of the world.” The second egg struck the counter, the hairline fracture branching farther as Cedric pressed his thumb into it to split one half from the other. “I want him, Oli. I’m not giving up on him. I think he just needs to get settled.”
“Well, you know better than I do.” Oli yawned. “What are you doing up this early, anyway? It’s not like you to be an early bird. Hell, if I could, I’d still be asleep.”
“There’s always excitement whenever a new client enters my life.” It was partially a lie, but Cedric didn’t want to get into the truth. Not yet. Telling Oli that he couldn’t keep the damaged omega sleeping in his guest bedroom off his mind wouldn’t have gone over very well. His friendship with Oli spanned years, all the way back to the time when they were both juniors in high school, and Oli was the new kid in class—the very first out of any of them to have manifested his omega characteristics. They’d tried dating for a while, but after one outrageously unsuccessful romp in the storage shed behind the high school, they’d decided it was better they stop being lovers so they could be best friends instead.
Oli still lamented the fact that he’d never had a chance to feel what the others from Cedric’s short-lived high school relationships had so tactfully described as a huge knot, but by that time, there was no going back. The friend-zone had been firmly established, and they’d moved into almost-brothers territory. He supported Cedric, and he’d been there for him after he’d lost Brittany, but out of respect for Oli, Cedric did his best to keep sex-talk off the table.
“Well, I’d be careful if I were you,” Oli said. “The Lowe family was weird during high school, and I get the feeling that they’re even weirder now.”
“Gabriel isn’t weird.”
“Mmhm. I thought so. I hear the defensiveness in your voice.” Oli sighed. “You’re up early because you were screwing him, weren’t you?”
Gabriel, naked on his bed, the cute rounds of his ass almost heart-shaped as they tapered toward his waist. Pale skin and a smooth, hairless body. He’d perk that ass for Cedric, and then… Cedric blinked last night’s dreams away. They were disrespectful when Gabriel’s mental state was so fragile. What he needed wasn’t sex, and Cedric had to remember that. “Of course not.”
“That was a telling delay.” Oli chuckled. “Listen, I’m just about to hit the road so I don’t miss my interview. Do you want to touch base later when you’re feeling a little less defensive, and we can have an actual conversation about how you want to screw the brains out of the omega you’ve been asked to dominate?”
“I don’t—”
“Forget it. You can deny all day, but it’s not going to do you any favors. The problem with having a best friend who knows you so well—especially an omega best friend—is that I can read you like a book. You might think you’re being subtle about it, but you’re not.” Cedric practically heard Oli wink. “So I’ll call you tonight, okay? After this morning’s interview, there’s a career expo going on, and I’m going to dazzle them with my sunny brand of morning sarcasm.”
“You’re not going to need to go. You’re going to land the job you’re interviewing for.”
“Details.” Oli chuckled. “Listen, I’m letting you go. I’ll call you back later. Let’s say seven? That’ll give me plenty of time to get home and change into pajamas, and it’ll give you enough time to tie your new love slave up to the bed to make sure he doesn’t bolt while we have a private conversation about him in the next room.”
There was no reasoning with him. Cedric shook his head, but he was laughing on the inside. “Sure. Seven. I’ll have my chains ready.”
“Perfect. See ya.”
The line went dead. Cedric set the phone on the counter, and he was about to pick up the third egg when he realized the two in the pan had turned to plastic. “Shit.”
The overdone eggs were introduced to the garbage, two new eggs hit the hot oil, and a handful of minutes later, Cedric had breakfast ready. Eggs and toast. Simple, but satisfying. There were other ways to reward a submissive, and if that meant doting on him until they worked out Gabriel’s issues, then Cedric would do so.
He wasn’t sure if Gabriel drank coffee, so he fixed him a glass of orange juice and brought his meal from the kitchen to the bedroom. The door was closed, so Cedric balanced the plate on the crook of his arm and knocked. “Good morning, Gabriel.”
One beat passed. Then another. There was movement in the room, and Cedric assumed Gabriel was getting out of bed to answer the door. He counted the seconds in his head.
Five. Four. Three. Two. One.
Nothing.
Cedric knocked again. “Good morning, Gabriel. This will be your last warning. When you are greeted, you are expected to respond.”
Nothing.
Cedric frowned. He’d been of the opinion that Gabriel required a gentle touch, but it seemed like he was wrong. If he needed to be more forceful, he’d do it—but it upset him to think that he’d misread Gabriel like that.
Patience depleted, Cedric twisted the doorknob and pushed the guest bedroom door open. With Gabriel’s fragile mental state, he hadn’t wanted to enforce punishment, but Gabriel left him with no choice. He stepped into the room and opened his mouth to speak, but stopped short.
No one was there.
Gabriel was gone.
16
Gabriel
Run.
Run, and don’t stop. Never stop. Don’t let him get you.
Gabriel skidded around the corner of the sun room and into the kitchen. Sir was at his bedroom door, looking to come in. If he didn’t run now, if he didn’t get out, then he’d be ensnared in this place. Sir would claim him, he’d be too weak to resist, and he would never see Garrison again.
He couldn’t let that happen.
The side door leading to the carport was locked, but with a simple twist of his fingers, Gabriel worked it open and burst through the door. The cold morning air sent goosebumps up his arms, but he hadn’t had time to grab a sweater. Sir had come in earlier than he’d anticipated, and he hadn’t had time to pack like he wanted to.
It didn’t matter. He had to get away.
He’d been bad.
Sir was nice, but Gabriel had met nice men before, and he’d never dreamed about defying Garrison for them. Sir was handsome, but appearances were shallow, and age would change his face and destroy his looks. Kind words and a willingness to understand wouldn’t change Gabriel’s life—action would. And while Garrison may not have whispered sweet words in his ear or given him much physical affection, he’d always provided for him.
Gabriel couldn’t forget that.
This time, he didn’t try to run for the woods. Gabriel dug in his heels when he arrived at the sidewalk and changed course, running in the direction Sir had driven to get back to the house.
Garrison was counting on him.
He hit the street corner, but there was still so far to go. Gabriel knew that if he kept following a straight path, Sir would find him right away. He’d been banging on the door right when Gabriel was getting ready to go, and that meant that he was running on borrowed time. Sir would be after him. He needed to get away, or he’d be taken back to the house and he would never get a chance to see Garrison again.
There was a mailbox on the corner, old, blue, and metallic. Gabriel rounded it, but before he could pass it, he came to a sudden stop. His hands and feet had gone numb, and pinpricks shot up his legs as his feet hit the sidewalk. A familiar, unsettling scent filled his nose, and his stomach balled up and squeezed unt
il every pang of guilt Gabriel had ever felt was forced from the dark recesses of his stomach where they lived and up into his throat and lungs. Air deserted him. No matter how deeply he breathed in, he couldn’t satisfy his body’s needs.
Gabriel knew what was going on—he was having a panic attack.
There was no denying it. The numbness, the nausea, the shortness of breath… all that was missing was the dizziness, but that would come soon enough. It always did. The ground would fall out from beneath his feet, and the space just behind his eyes would start to spin, and from there, his whole world would shift out of focus. He’d stumble and fall if he tried to walk, like a sailor recently returned to land, while the harsh feelings built up inside until they overtook him completely. All he could do now was hide and hope that Sir wasn’t interested in finding him.
Out here, his options were limited, so Gabriel hunkered down behind the mailbox and tried to talk himself through his panic before the dizziness had a chance to strike. Back in The White Lotus, when his panic attacks had started, he’d been told by the doctor on staff that counting was an effective way to manage his terror, and he’d been taught an exercise to help. He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath, counting to five as his lungs filled.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
The scent didn’t disappear, but it had to be in his head, didn’t it? Wood and leather and rot. There was only one place Gabriel had smelled it before, but it couldn’t be here, right now, could it? His brain was doing its best to sabotage him, and it was doing a wonderful job of it.
This was why he wasn’t supposed to be on his own. Garrison had taught him that omegas were delicate creatures who needed guidance, and Gabriel had seen the truth of his words play out time and time again. Every panic attack, every jealous feeling of injustice, and every haywire emotional response proved that he wasn’t suited to life without a leader. It wasn’t wrong to have been born this way, but it was wrong to live life without an alpha for very long. The men and women who thought they could prove nature wrong were asking for trouble, and even if trouble didn’t find them right away, it would track them down eventually. No one was immune. But Gabriel? Garrison had called Gabriel a perfect omega, and it meant that he was more susceptible to his submissive instincts than anyone else.
Gabriel curled his numb fingers against his palm and let the air out of his lungs slowly, counting down from five. All he had to remember was that his fear was trying to get the best of him. The scent on the air was a figment of his imagination. It wasn’t real. Over the last few days he’d been pushed to his limits and forced to endure change after change—from Stonecrest, to Sterling’s penthouse, to Sir’s bungalow by the woods. It was natural that his body was shutting down. He wasn’t made for high-pressure situations.
Fists balled, skin tingling, Gabriel flattened his fingers again and went back to counting. Five in, five out. He worked his toes, trying his best to drive sensation back into them. The dizziness was starting behind his eyes, as if his brain itself was spinning while the rest of the world stood still. More than anything, he wanted it to stop.
In five. The smell of wood and leather and rot wouldn’t leave him alone.
Out five. There were footsteps down the block.
In five. Gabriel dared to open his eyes as the footsteps drew near, expecting to see Sir pass him by.
Out five. The face he saw was ripped straight from his nightmares.
Lungs empty and body weak, all Gabriel could do was watch as the man without a name strolled by the mailbox and kept on walking. His hands were in the pockets of his jeans, and he wore a black hoodie that zipped up the front. As he passed, he looked down at Gabriel with a brow arched and his lips pulled back in a grin that exposed the tips of his too-perfect teeth.
All Gabriel could do was stare.
Was it his mind? Was he hallucinating? Gabriel didn’t want to reach out and touch him in order to find out. Terror coiled tightly in his chest, making sure his lungs stayed empty. His body screamed for air, but he couldn’t breathe. It was like he’d been anchored to the bottom of the ocean and left to drown.
It’s not real.
But the smell was, and so was the man’s hawk-like nose and the piercing way his blue eyes tore Gabriel apart.
It’s not real.
But the man’s gait matched what Gabriel remembered, and the extra weight he carried fell exactly as Gabriel recalled it did.
It’s not real.
But the cadence of the man’s chuckle was impossible to mistake.
He passed the mailbox by, and as he stepped down from the curb to cross the street, he gave Gabriel one last, lingering look, then hitched the hood once slouched down his back over his head and kept walking. Gabriel watched him go, back pushed against the frigid metal siding of the mailbox, heart racing so fast he was sure it would explode.
How was this real? If it was real, the man without a name should have taken him. There was no one stopping him. Gabriel was on his own, and he was defenseless. Gabriel knew that there was no way he’d be let off the hook—he’d escaped, he hadn’t been set free. So why wasn’t the man without a name taking back what he thought was his?
Rust on the side of the mailbox caught the back of Gabriel’s shirt, and he squeezed his eyes closed as a fresh wave of nausea consumed him. The world spun faster than it had before, and counting from five wasn’t working. More than anything, he wished he could rip the useless part of himself out, if only so the spinning would stop.
“Gabriel!”
The sound of his name was distant, but it registered in Gabriel’s ears, and it dragged him down from the spinning heights he’d climbed to.
“Gabriel!”
It was Sir, a foggy part of Gabriel’s brain realized. Gabriel opened his eyes as the footsteps approached. Each beat of his sole against the sidewalk slapped the pavement at a frantic pace—panic. Gabriel wasn’t the only one in the world who was alone and afraid.
“Gabriel!”
The voice was beside him now, and Gabriel looked up to find Sir standing next to him. His cheeks were red and his hair was messy, a combination of early morning and windswept. He wore a sweater, but the wind was whipping it, and his hair, in ways that made Gabriel feel cold just by looking at him.
Sir needed a jacket. Why hadn’t he brought a jacket? Gabriel wasn’t worth being cold over. Sir deserved so much better.
Gabriel only noticed that he was breathing again when Sir fell to his knees and swept him into a crushing hug. Gabriel froze, expecting punishment, but when none came, he carefully wrapped his arms around Sir and hugged him back.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Sir asked, but his voice was frightened instead of angry. “There were rules set in place. You weren’t supposed to leave the house without my permission.”
“I know,” Gabriel whispered. He buried his nose against the crook of Sir’s neck and tried not to remember his dream. Sir’s touch felt too good, and it made him want to be bad, just like he knew it would. “I’m sorry.”
One of Sir’s hands tucked itself behind his head while the other barred across his back. The touch was intimate, but it was not demanding. It was the kind of touch that was grateful instead of possessive, and it made Gabriel want to know why.
Why was Sir treating him with kindness instead of disgust? Why was he being met with affection instead of pain? What was it going to be like when Sir got him back into the house?
Somehow, it didn’t matter.
Gabriel breathed in Sir’s scent and held it. Instead of anxiety, he was treated with release from his fears. Now that Sir had him, he was safe. He’d be kept secure inside the house, and even though he was going to be punished, Gabriel knew that whatever waited for him in the bungalow couldn’t hold a candle to what the man without a name would do to him should he be reclaimed. Gabriel didn’t like the thought that he was to go back home with the man he’d dreamed about—the one who’d encouraged him to forget about Garrison—but right no
w, he had no other choice.
He’d rushed his escape. Next time, he would give it thought, and he’d wait for the perfect opportunity. With the man without a name lurking nearby, and Sir intent on not letting him go, what other choice did he have? For now, he’d have to be strong.
Wilted against Sir’s chest, Gabriel talked himself down from his panic. He was seconds away from announcing that he could walk when Sir’s arms changed positions, tugging Gabriel to him that much tighter.
“Are you ready to go home?” Sir asked.
“Yes, Sir.” Gabriel knew that he should stand, but he’d found safety in Sir’s arms, and he was reluctant to part from them. Enjoying physical contact like this didn’t mean that he was being bad. Right now, it was what he needed to get by. “Do you want me to stand?”
“No. You’ve lost the privilege to walk by yourself.”
Gabriel blinked and pulled back from Sir’s chest. He was about to ask what that meant when Sir lifted him from the sidewalk like he weighed nothing at all and tucked Gabriel against his chest. Gabriel gasped and locked his arms around Sir’s neck, but all Sir did was chuckle. They rose together, Sir’s body taut as he supported Gabriel’s weight. He was slender for an alpha, but in that moment, he showed his true strength.
“Sir?” Gabriel asked, his tone pitched up a note from uncertainty.
“Your outside privileges have been revoked.” Sir rounded the mailbox, carrying Gabriel bridal-style in the direction of the house. “I told you yesterday that you weren’t allowed outside unless I gave you permission. That is no longer the case. You are to remain inside until you’ve proven that you can be trusted. If you test your limits again, your punishment will be severe. My patience is not unending. You know better.”
“I know, Sir.” Gabriel frowned, but he couldn’t feel sorry for himself—not when Sir was holding him so close and sheltering him from the world.
“When we get inside, you’ll have half an hour to eat the breakfast I prepared for you. After that, your time is mine.”