by Piper Scott
“Yes, Sir.” Gabriel’s arms loosened around Sir’s neck. He felt the sway of every step Sir took, but Sir’s sturdy arms did not let him fall. “I won’t do this again, Sir.”
It was a lie. Gabriel knew it, and by the way silence descended upon them, he thought that Sir knew it, too. If Sir suspected he was lying, he didn’t call him out on it. There was nothing he could do to keep Gabriel from going, and Gabriel was fairly sure he knew it. It was just a matter of when.
“Let’s get you back to the house,” Sir murmured, almost more to himself than to Gabriel.
Sir carried him the rest of the way home.
17
Cedric
Omegas who consented didn’t run.
Cedric bent forward at the waist, resting his elbows on the kitchen counter as he held his head in his hands. He’d managed troublemakers before—men who liked pain and punishment more than they liked pleasure—but the way Gabriel acted didn’t lead Cedric to believe he was looking for punishment. There was no sly twist of his lips or sparkle of mischief in his eyes. What Gabriel was looking for wasn’t a spanking, or a lashing, or even a deprivation of his senses—he wanted to escape, and Cedric still hadn’t come to terms with what that meant.
Did Gabriel want to be here? Probably not. Cedric had no clue what had happened with him, and Google wasn’t telling him shit. All he knew was that one day, Gabriel had been a regular part of the Lowe family, and the next day, he’d been missing. He’d heard rumors about the aftermath as it related to the remaining individuals in the house—Adrian and his parents—but rumors weren’t reliable, and they told him nothing about what he needed to know.
Timid Gabriel, who’d crumpled in on himself behind the mailbox, body shaking and eyes squeezed shut with terror.
What the hell had Cedric done to him?
Gabriel was locked in his room, the bolt secured on the sun room door. There was no exterior lock for the hallway door yet, but Cedric was already considering his options. He didn’t want to lock Gabriel in a room like he was a prisoner, but at the same time, he was obligated to keep Gabriel safe. That left Cedric with two options—he could install a lock that would potentially piss off his landlords when it came time to move, or he could figure out what the root problem was and eliminate it.
One of those options was a much sounder solution than the other, if only Cedric knew how to go about doing it.
Breakfast.
Cedric’s eyes traced up the kitchen wall to the clock hanging over the stove. Fifteen minutes had passed since he’d brought Gabriel inside and laid him in bed, but his nerves were still shot. Fifteen more remained before he would claim Gabriel’s time as his own—fifteen more minutes to make a decision about what he was to do about his runaway omega. Two escape attempts in less than twenty-four hours. Was he a monster? Cedric had always thought he was the kind of Dom who operated with integrity and respect, and who was never afraid to give his submissive exactly what he or she needed. With Gabriel, he was beginning to doubt that was true.
Had he been too stern? Too tough? Too demanding?
Until he knew, he couldn’t come up with a suitable punishment for what had just happened. Gabriel’s state of mind was so frail that even a light spanking felt like it would be abusive. Until Cedric had a chance to pick his mind and get to know Gabriel for who he really was, his hands were tied.
Spinning his wheels wasn’t getting him anywhere, so Cedric pushed off the counter and occupied himself with busywork. He scrubbed the few dishes in the sink he’d left from breakfast and swept away the crumbs left on the counter from making toast. He put water on to boil and prepared the French press. The unexpected cardio he’d been abruptly forced into hadn’t given him a runner’s high, and he needed something to make the morning a little better.
Boiling water poured, coffee left to brew, Cedric took a mug from the cabinet while he talked himself up. All he needed to do was go in there and treat Gabriel like he was any other client. Sterling wouldn’t have given him a job that was beyond the scope of his capabilities—he knew Gabriel better than Cedric did, and if he thought it was a job Cedric could handle, then there had to be something he was missing.
Or maybe Sterling was setting him up to fail.
Cedric set the mug down. The ceramic clicked against the counter, joining the hum of the refrigerator to erase silence from the room. Was Sterling the kind of man who’d entrust a potential candidate with an impossible task in order to avoid rejecting him head-on? Cedric didn’t want to think so, but the more he thought about it, the more his troubled mind tried to convince him it was true. The sudden change of plans, the alternate job offer, and the promise that if he did a good job taking care of Gabriel, the management position might be available to him when it opened up again.
It was all a ploy.
The realization was the kind of bitter Cedric couldn’t chase away with sugar or cream. He strained the French press and poured his coffee, and by the time he’d sweetened it to his liking, the fifteen minutes he’d been so anxious for had passed—and so had his negativity. So what if Sterling had set him up to fail? He was young and green, and he would snap back even when put under pressure. So what if he didn’t land the management position at The Shepherd? He’d built a perfectly good career for himself outside of Sterling’s kink club—the position would only have helped broaden his horizons and connect him with the right people. The fact of the matter was, right now, he had a job to do. Gabriel was the one he should be concerned about—not himself—and conflating the situation with hypotheticals wasn’t going to get him anywhere.
It didn’t matter if Gabriel was damaged, or if the job was beyond the scope of his ability. The fact was, he’d taken it, he was being paid for it, and he was going to see it through to completion. Whether or not Gabriel wanted to be dominated was debatable, but there was no doubt in Cedric’s mind that he needed help, guidance, and someone to catch him should he fall.
Cedric could do that.
Cedric would do that.
He picked up his coffee, approached Gabriel’s bedroom door, and got to work.
18
Gabriel
Three rhythmic knocks were all the warning Gabriel got before the door swung open. He looked up from his empty plate to find Sir coming through the doorway, a mug of steaming coffee gripped in one hand. He nudged the door closed with his heel after he entered, then came to sit on the bedside a polite distance away from Gabriel.
Polite wasn’t something Gabriel was used to. When a man came to sit on his bedside, it meant that he wanted a certain thing, and Gabriel’s body was quick to remember what it was. Partially, he knew, it was because his body remembered the way Sir had touched him the night before. Gabriel knew that it was wrong to get excited over a man he didn’t belong to, but he couldn’t help it. Besides, for as long as he was in Sir’s custody, a reaction like that would be useful. When the time came that Sir did want to use him for sex, at least Gabriel would enjoy it.
Shamefully, he scooted across the bed to close some of the distance between them and sat so close to Sir that their thighs were touching. Usually that was all it took.
But Sir didn’t turn and pin him to the bed, and he didn’t try to kiss him, even though Gabriel had the feeling that kissing Sir might actually be nice. Instead, he turned his head and looked Gabriel in the eyes. Pinpricks, too light and too pleasurable to belong to a panic attack, spread through Gabriel’s chest. They crept down his shoulders and along the length of his spine until he was sure he’d never get rid of them, and the pleasant buzz would stay forever. The depth of Sir’s green eyes looked into him, like he was a painting to be appreciated rather than a blunder best ignored.
Affection, unexpected but welcome, bloomed alongside the pinpricks, and Gabriel fought the urge to smile. He knew that he shouldn’t feel this way for another man, but he wasn’t actively trying to. When Sir looked at him like that, Gabriel found it hard to remember he belonged to someone else.
For
a long while, there was silence. Sir studied him, and Gabriel found himself too much in awe to look away. The sun was at an angle where its rays came through the glass door leading to the sun room and struck Sir’s eyes in just the right way to intensify the color and amplify every undertone and highlight. But it wasn’t the color of Sir’s eyes that bound Gabriel—it was the emotion in them. Concern. Affection. Worry. Without a single word said, Gabriel knew he was cared for.
He never wanted to look away.
“What’s going on with you?” Sir asked, his voice quiet. They sat so close that there was no need for him to speak any louder. He reached out and ran his fingers along the ridge of Gabriel’s jaw, but didn’t push for more. The pinpricks in Gabriel’s chest turned frosty, like mint, and he shivered as he nuzzled against Sir’s hand.
He didn’t understand.
Sterling had given him to an alpha. They hadn’t been together long, but the arrangement was unusual, and Gabriel wasn’t sure what to make of it. If Sir didn’t want his body, then what did he want? There was nothing about him that was particularly special. It wasn’t like he was smart, like Adrian was. His genes meant that he wasn’t good for much. Conception, child rearing, domestic tasks, sure… but Sir hadn’t asked him to take care of any of those things, and the more he touched Gabriel with kindness instead of lust, the more confused Gabriel became.
When he’d left Sterling’s penthouse to come live with Sir, he’d made peace with the fact that he’d have to be bad. Getting to Garrison meant struggle, and part of that struggle was the temporary rule of an alpha Gabriel didn’t want. But this? Sir wasn’t ruling him at all. Not really. Gabriel hadn’t even seen him with his sweater off.
It made him feel like maybe he was doing a bad job at the only thing he was good at.
Sir said nothing, even when Gabriel held his tongue. The silence allowed Gabriel to think, and the more he thought, the worse he felt.
All his adult life, he’d worked to satisfy the men that Garrison brought to him. It was what made Garrison happy, and by doing it, Gabriel knew that he was being good. Even when he struggled with feelings of doubt or disgust, he knew that if he just pushed through, Garrison might recognize his hard work and devotion and finally deliver on his promise. No man he’d ever been introduced to had kept his hands off him for long, and Gabriel had grown accustomed to the fact that he was made to be touched.
Beautiful flowers attract bees to pollinate them, Gabriel. Beautiful omegas are no different.
Once, those words had comforted him when he hadn’t wanted to go on. Knowing his life served a purpose meant that he was better able to rationalize the things he did, and the things Garrison wanted him to do. Now, those same words haunted him.
Wasn’t he beautiful? Didn’t Sir want him?
Why was he asking questions when they could be doing what they were biologically meant to do?
The world wasn’t like Garrison had told him it would be, and it confused him. If he wasn’t good for sex, then what was he good for? How would he ever impress Garrison enough to get him to stay if he couldn’t even satisfy Sir?
Sorrow, insidious in nature, began to infect Gabriel’s thoughts. Garrison was his future, but what good would the future be if he couldn’t be the young man Garrison wanted him to be?
Words tumbled out of Gabriel’s mouth, chased out by a creeping sense of worthlessness that lent the slow-moving sorrow inside of him a razor edge. “I-I miss my boyfriend.”
There was a shift in Sir’s eyes. The pretty green rings around his irises were darkened by regret, and the shape of his eyes softened, like he was looking upon something tragically broken. Gabriel didn’t like to think of himself as broken, but as the poison inside him spread, he knew that he’d been fooling himself. He’d been broken for years now, held together by hope and willful ignorance. Now that he’d had the future stripped from him, he was doing his best to hold himself together by chasing the past. Sir had every right to be disgusted—Gabriel was in decay.
“You have a boyfriend?” Sir asked, his voice little more than a whisper. “I didn’t know.”
“I miss him.” The dam had burst, and the truth spilled forth. Gabriel could spend the rest of his life pretending that he was fine, and that he could be good, but in that moment, he was too worn down to keep up the act. “I love him.”
A cloud passed over Sir’s face. For a moment, Gabriel thought he saw Sir break, too. Whether that look persisted, Gabriel didn’t know. He ducked his head and looked away, ashamed of himself for being so weak, and humiliated that what he said had brought Sir pain, too.
“Where is he?” Sir asked. His hand parted from where it had once cradled Gabriel’s jaw, and he returned it to his lap. “Why aren’t you with him?”
“No one’s helped me get to him.” Gabriel curled his fingers, then let them go. “I want to go back to him. I want to go home.”
Sir bent over and set his coffee on the floor. When he sat up, he lifted his ass just enough to slide his phone out of his pocket. He laid it on his palm and held it out to Gabriel. “Do you know his phone number?”
Gabriel looked down at the phone, startled. No one had tried to help him before, let alone a man he was supposed to serve. What was going through Sir’s head? Was it a trick? “N-No.”
“Then why don’t we Google him?” A half-smile perked one corner of Sir’s lips, but there was sorrow behind it. It was a slow-building sadness, the kind that Gabriel thought he felt, too—like Sir had been robbed of purpose. “Everyone’s online these days. Facebook, Twitter, Instagram… we’ll find him.”
The razor-edged worthlessness in Gabriel hit a wall so hard, the blade bent and became useless. He held his breath, sure that if he made one wrong move, the dream would end and the cruel realities of life would burden him again.
Was this for real? It wasn’t just a trick made to fool him into misbehaving? It wouldn’t be the first time someone had tried to deceive him. Only Sterling had ever asked him questions about Garrison, but in the end, he’d said that Garrison was a bad man, and he’d refused to help. Adrian was no better, and he was family. But Sir? Sir was a stranger. What was in it for him?
“Why are you doing this for me?” Gabriel asked uneasily. The phone remained on Sir’s palm, untouched. Until he knew what Sir’s motives were, he didn’t want to push his luck. But the look in Sir’s eyes wasn’t malicious. No matter how hard Gabriel looked, he couldn’t find cruel intention in them.
“Because I’m here to make you happy, Gabriel.” The words were genuine in a way Gabriel wasn’t prepared for. The pinpricks exploded, and Gabriel’s heart fluttered. He bit down into his lower lip and dipped his chin, ashamed that he could ever think that Sir would want to deceive him. He’d been hurt before, but Sir had never wronged him. Why was he so distrustful of everything and everyone? “I know what it feels like to miss someone with all your heart, and if I can spare you that feeling, then I’m going to do everything I can to help.”
The pain in Sir’s voice was old, like it had long ago scarred over, but would never fully be gone. Gabriel wanted to ask about who he’d lost, but he knew it wasn’t his place. So instead, he looked at the phone. It was sleek and flat, its screen smudged in the places that Sir’s fingers touched most often. It had been half a decade since Gabriel had owned one—Garrison had taken his from him the same day he’d come to stay at The White Lotus. He didn’t know the first thing about how it worked. “His name is Garrison Baylor,” Gabriel said reluctantly. “Do you think you can find him, Sir?”
“I could.” Sir shrugged. “But I think that I’ll have you find him instead.”
The phone passed hands. It was surprisingly light, and Gabriel looked down at it with equal parts apprehension and excitement. Was he really going to do this? Sir was putting the world in his hand.
“If… If I find him,” Gabriel glanced up from the phone to look cautiously at Sir, “will you help me get back to him? Will you help me go home?”
“Of course.”<
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Joy, golden and radiant, should have washed over him. It should have made the bliss of the pinpricks stronger, and the featherlight weight of his stomach that much more weightless.
It didn’t.
The pinpricks disappeared. Gabriel’s stomach sank. Dread, the same kind he’d felt when he was introduced to the men he was meant to service, made him pinch his shoulders tightly to his neck. He had unlimited resources at his disposal—everything he needed to track down the man he loved—but he couldn’t bring himself to be excited about it. The joy had gone. Something had changed, but he didn’t know what.
Sir’s sad smile answered his question. Gabriel noticed the suffering behind his pleasant facade—and his heart did, too. It ached for the alpha he’d inadvertently damaged.
“I’m… I’m sorry, Sir.” Gabriel fixed his gaze on the curve where Sir’s neck met his shoulder. He recalled the scent of his skin, and the way Sir’s body had felt against his own. Whenever they touched, the pinpricks came back.
Whenever they touched, Gabriel was happy.
“What are you apologizing for?” Sir reached over and pressed a button on the side of the phone. It lit up, and Sir punched in a few numbers to undo the lock screen. “I’m glad that I know a little bit more about you. I would have never known you were in a relationship if you hadn’t told me. What we need more than anything else is trust, and you can’t build trust with a stranger.”
You can’t build trust with a stranger.
Gabriel looked down at the unlocked phone screen, searching the icons for a web browser as Sir’s statement sunk in. When Sir had asked him to pretend to be someone else back in the driveway, how well had he known Garrison? He’d struggled to string together a single statement.
They’d been together for three years.