Heal (His Command Book 4)

by Piper Scott

  “Okay.” Gabriel bit the inside of his lip. “Will Sir be at the penthouse?”

  “No.” Adrian glanced downward. “Cedric’s not going to be around anymore, Gabriel. We went over this. It’s not healthy for you to be with him. You need to heal—not fall in love.”

  Fall in love.

  Gabriel’s heart fluttered, but at the same time, his stomach churned. The axis his world balanced on shifted, and the urgency of his situation made itself known. In a handful of minutes, he’d leave Sir’s home and never return. He’d never see Sir again. A part of him had known it all along, but that part had been hushed by willful disbelief. Now, there was no time left to play dumb. If he didn’t do something, he would never see Sir again.

  “I’ll go shower,” Gabriel murmured. He dodged the subject, bowing his head as he took a few steps toward the living room door. When times had gotten tough in the past, and when he hadn’t known what to do, he’d bolted. But now, even as his hamstrings readied themselves to sprint and his heart picked up the pace, his brain worked to piece together a new way forward.

  He could do this. If he let himself breathe and told himself that there was a way forward, he could find it. Years under Garrison’s command didn’t mean that he was useless. Sir had taught him better. All he had to do was believe.

  When Adrian didn’t object, Gabriel continued on his way. As he went, he grabbed the notepad and pen Sir kept on the table by the couch, then closed himself in the bathroom and locked the door. A twist of the knobs sent water gushing from the showerhead, creating the white noise he needed not only to think, but to mask his activities. Secure in the knowledge that Adrian wouldn’t suspect a thing, Gabriel sat on the toilet seat, clicked the pen open, and began to write.

  34

  Cedric

  Oli slammed his beer bottle down on the table a little too hard and ran his arm across his mouth. The television was off, but the stereo system was on, and Oli’s phone streamed music directly to the speakers. It was at a low enough volume that it didn’t interrupt their conversation, but the background noise was appreciated—the quiet wrecked Cedric more than he cared to admit.

  “And you know what I told him?” Oli asked with a snort. He shook his head. “I told him that if he wanted to knot my throat, he was better off swiping left, because oh hell, no. There’s no way I’m letting someone clog my trachea. Some people may be into that whole breath control thing, but I prefer not to die by choking on alpha dick, thanks.”

  Oli stretched out his legs, arched his back, and lifted his arms skyward as he yawned. Cedric watched him from where he sat, unable to carry the conversation.

  “Not even a chuckle?” Oli frowned. “I expected maybe a face, at least. Or a snort. Or some kind of quirky Cedric comment to tell me to broaden my sexual horizons and get with the times. But nothing? I thought we worked through the worst of it last night. You know it’s not your fault, right? Please tell me you’re not sliding back down that slippery slope of guilt, because I spent all my energy pushing you back up it this past week.”

  Cedric breathed out steadily through his nostrils until his lungs were empty. He looked Oli over, from the undone dress shirt he wore to the black socks with a single hole on the bottom of his right toe. For the last week, Oli had been alternating between trying to find a job and helping Cedric feel better, and Cedric knew he owed it to his best friend to smile, but he felt like there was very little to be happy about.

  Once more, what he wanted had been taken from him. He’d failed to keep another lover safe. There was no worse feeling than that.

  “Shit,” Oli mumbled. He repositioned himself on the couch, curling his legs beneath him while leaning heavily against the arm. “Alright. Well, I guess this is what resistance training is all about, right? If I’ve got to do more heavy pushing, then I’ll work through the pain. Where are you at right now? Lay it on me. If we’ve got to work you back up from the very bottom, we’ll do it.”

  “Do you ever feel like life is pointless?” Cedric looked away from Oli to stare at the wall. The rental Oli occupied had strict rules about driving nails through any surfaces, so Oli had decorated with photos cut out from art books and stuck the prints to the wall with mounting putty.

  Oli snickered. “I think the better question is, when haven’t I?”

  Cedric shot him a withering look, and Oli raised his hands defensively.

  “All right, all right, so I’ll cut back on the gloom.” Oli settled back onto the couch and looked Cedric over. “Yeah, I feel down from time to time. I guess that’s how you’re feeling now?”

  “I feel like…” The tangled mess of emotion in Cedric’s chest was hard to put into words. For a second, he struggled to pinpoint exactly what it was he wanted to say, fearful that if he dwelled on it too long, he might become ensnared. “I feel like maybe I’m cursed, and that I’m not meant to be in a relationship. I know that’s a bleak outlook, and that it’s not healthy, but this is the first time I’ve opened up to anyone since Brittany passed, and…”

  “Oh, Cedric.” Oli got up from the couch and sat on the arm of Cedric’s armchair. “You ridiculously sad creature. You’re going to put puppies out of business, you know that? If your whole BDSM career thing doesn’t work out, you should take up making memes of yourself. #SadCedric might be the next big thing.”

  Cedric rolled his eyes. “Not helping.”

  “Well, what do you want me to do? Be sad with you?” Oli offered a sympathetic smile. “The way I see it, one of us needs to stay upbeat, right? If we were two sad sacks wilting across the couch bemoaning the obstacles in our lives, our negative energy would accumulate until it reached critical mass and we’d both probably explode from terminal sadness.”

  No matter how much Oli joked, there was always a hint of truth in what he said. Cedric knew it, and as much as he despised it, he couldn’t let the kernel of truth from Oli’s statement go. “I’m being dramatic about this.”

  “Of course you are.” Oli punched his shoulder. “But you have every right to be, you know? You’ve been through shit. You deserve to mourn… but I don’t know if I understand why you’re mourning now. That omega must have really done a job on you if you’re this hung up on him.”

  Being hung up didn’t begin to describe how Cedric felt. It wasn’t so simple. The matter was far from clear-cut, and the more Cedric thought about it, the more complex it became. Oli could boil it down all he wanted, but he’d never catch the essence of what Cedric had been through.

  “It’s… different.” Cedric floundered for meaning. Explanation didn’t come easily. “It’s not the same as when Brittany died, but it’s… it’s hurtful in the same way. I lost him. Through my actions, I lost him, and I know I’m never getting him back.”

  “With an attitude like that, you’re not.” Oli leaned over to snag his beer from the table. He set it to his lips and drank, then took in a loud, satisfied gulp of air. “The difference between Brittany and Gabriel is that with Brittany, you have closure. There’s no coming back from beyond the grave, unless we’re talking seriously-messed-up-horror-movie shit.”

  Cedric shot Oli a glance, and Oli hid his grin behind his beer. When he was done, he set the bottle on the table and rolled his shoulders.

  “Not helping,” Cedric said.

  “Details. Details.” Oli waved a hand dismissively. “But you know what? I mean, apart from my little tangent, you can see what I’m getting at. There is nothing you can do about Brittany, and you know it. You have closure. It might not be the closure you want, but you can’t deny it’s there.”

  Cedric bit his tongue. What Oli said wasn’t meant to hurt, but that didn’t mean his words didn’t claw at Cedric’s soul.

  Oli leaned forward, his eyes narrowed conspiratorially. “But you know, with Gabriel, you can still make things right. You might have sent him off in a selfless act of love, but you know what? You know where Sterling lives. That’s his brother-in-law, right? You can track him down, and when you do, yo
u can talk to him about what you’re feeling. You can work things out. You may have made a mistake, but that doesn’t mean you have to keep reliving that mistake forever. You can make things right.”

  “I’m making them right by staying the hell away.”

  “No.” Oli’s eyes flashed. “You’re making them wrong by staying the hell away, and you can’t convince me otherwise.”

  Silence fell. Cedric stewed in those words. Oli didn’t understand because he didn’t know Gabriel in the way Cedric did. Until he knew how delicate and broken Gabriel was, he’d never really get it. But Cedric also knew that there was truth in what Oli said. As long as they were both still alive, there was always a chance to make things right. He’d spent the last week licking his wounds and feeling miserable about himself, but the truth of the matter was, he’d acted with integrity. He’d done what was necessary for Gabriel, and he’d acted with his best interest at heart. There was a chance that, given time, he could recover from this—that they could recover from this. In a few years, when Gabriel was in a better mental state and adjusted to the world, then maybe…

  Cedric’s phone rang. He jumped, and Oli hopped off the armrest he’d been perching on and went to sit on the couch again.

  Sterling was on the line.

  “Shit,” Cedric muttered. The timing was too coincidental—Sterling’s call was a sign from the universe, either that he was never meant to ever patch things up with Gabriel, or that he was. Cedric couldn’t tell which. Heart in his throat, Cedric answered the call. “Hello?”

  “Good evening, Cedric.” Sterling was cordial as always. “Gabriel has just come home, so the house is vacated and safe for you to re-enter. Are you sure you don’t want me to send a cleaning crew in to make sure the house is tidy when you get back?”

  “No. No, that’s not necessary.” Cedric rubbed his eyes and tried to let go of the tension in his chest. “Thank you for letting me know. I really appreciate it.”

  “You’re welcome.” Sterling paused. It sounded like there was something more he wanted to say, but if there was, it went unsaid. “Have a good night.”

  “You too.”

  Cedric took the phone from his ear. The call time froze—Sterling had hung up.

  “I’m guessing that wasn’t your dentist.” Oli laid back on the couch and turned his head to look at Cedric. “You’re going home?”

  “Yeah.” Back to a house that would be too quiet, and whose rooms held memories Cedric didn’t want to recall. “Thanks for hosting me this past week. I really appreciate it.”

  Oli chuckled. “Hey, having a built-in dishwasher slave isn’t so bad. You know, I could get used to this whole cohabitation thing. If you ever need a roommate, just let me know.”

  “You’ll find a boyfriend before that happens,” Cedric told him. He got up from the armchair and put his phone back in his pocket. “Then you’re not going to want anything to do with a roommate. Why have someone living in your house who cooks and cleans for you when you could have all that plus a sex life?”

  Oli raised a brow. “Right, because I’ve had so many men fighting each other for the chance.”

  The humor in Oli’s words gave Cedric hope, and he shook off some of his melancholy. He’d move onward, and as he did, what was meant to happen would happen. All he had to do was get his head on straight and decide which future was the best one for him—and for Gabriel. “Seems like you’ve had plenty of interest, if this last week’s ramblings about your dating site adventures say anything.”

  “Uh, no.” Oli snorted. “When the highlight of my week is that a guy waited three days before telling me he wanted to ram his knot down my throat, then yeah, my prospects aren’t all that great. Which means you have to try your hardest to make things right for you, okay? You’ve mourned Brittany for years, and you’ve honored her memory, but she’d want you to be happy. Isn’t that what you always told me?”

  Late nights at The Shepherd. Punishment by Brittany’s hand. The thrill that came from proving his submission. The tug around his neck as she pulled at his leash…

  All I want is to make you happy. Let it all go, and I promise, you’ll find the way.

  So many eyes on him, wanting, craving, who’d never been able to touch…

  Cedric let out a breath steadily and slowly and nodded. “She’d want me to be happy.”

  “Then it’s obvious what you have to do.” Oli gestured at the door. “And it’s up to you to make sure it happens. Like it or not, you’re in charge of your own happiness now. If you’re miserable, there’s only one thing you can do: go out there and do something about it.”

  35

  Cedric

  The house was the same as when he’d left it, but the energy had changed. Cedric stepped in through the side door and overlooked the kitchen, letting it sink in. The light above the stove was on, and every small detail was as he’d remembered it, but the hum of the refrigerator and the airflow through the vents fell flat on his ears. The house he’d called home had lost its vibrancy. Cedric’s heart had separated itself from this place.

  There was a note on the kitchen table. Cedric spotted it through the dark and flipped on the overhead light before heading over to check it out. It had been written on the magnetized notepad he usually kept on the fridge in small, meticulous handwriting.

  I stripped the sheets and pillowcases from the guest bedroom bed and tossed them in the washer. The blanket wouldn’t fit. I left it in the basket by the washer, so all you need to do is stuff it inside. Figured it was the least I could do.

  We ate some of your food, and I took out the trash before we left. Otherwise, everything is where it should be. If there’s a problem, you can call.

  Sorry for the inconvenience.

  -Adrian

  By the sounds of it, the washer wasn’t running. Cedric stuck the notepad to the fridge on his way past, then headed to the basement to swap out the laundry. The blanket was where Adrian claimed it would be, folded neatly, like Cedric gave a shit about what it looked like. The gesture was small, but it impacted him in a large way, and Cedric sank to his knees and sat on the unfinished floor as the reality of his situation hit him hard.

  Gabriel was gone.

  In Oli’s apartment, denying the truth had been easy. Separated from his home, his subconscious had tricked itself into thinking everything would be alright. Cedric plucked the blanket from the laundry basket and held it to his chest. The scent of Gabriel’s heat clung to it, muted by time, but still present. It wouldn’t be long before it disappeared completely. Before that happened, Cedric rested his head against the blanket and breathed.

  Gabriel.

  The steel of the washing machine was cold against his back, and a damp chill met his thighs, seeping up from the floor. Cedric closed his eyes and let it go, just like Brittany would have wanted. He detached from what he knew and what he believed to side with what he felt.

  Arousal, of course, but that was natural. The scent of an omega’s heat was made to stir an alpha, and Cedric understood that no matter how respectful he was, it was bound to happen. Longing, another given, but not because of biological drive—Cedric longed for what his heart had claimed, but what his head had pushed away. Then, beneath that, was something Cedric wasn’t expecting. Determination strengthened his resolve and told him that he had to wait a little longer—that throwing himself back into Gabriel’s life would do more harm than good. If he wanted Gabriel to heal, he couldn’t keep picking at his scabs. The issues Gabriel struggled with were complex, and they would only worsen if Cedric aggravated them with his presence. Instinct told him to stay away, and he’d trust it. There were other ways to win Gabriel back than to spring headfirst into action.

  He would be patient. He would bide his time and wait, no matter how much it hurt.

  Pain is the precursor to pleasure, Cedric. Don’t fear it—welcome it. Let it take you. Let it heighten your experiences. I promise, it won’t be long now until you understand how good suffering can be… />
  Cedric shivered. He stood, knees wobbling, and dropped the blanket back in the laundry basket. The damp linens in the washer were free of Gabriel’s scent, and he transferred them quickly to the dryer before they could be recontaminated. A twist of the knob on the dryer’s control panel started the tumble cycle, and Cedric picked up the blanket once more. He carried it up the stairs and followed his heart not to the living room, but to the sun room. In the winter, Cedric kept the doors shut and sometimes went so far as to cover the windows if the temperature plummeted low enough, and on chilly fall nights, he avoided the room entirely, but a gut feeling told him it was what he needed to do. More than once, he’d seen the appreciation in Gabriel’s eyes as he looked toward the room, like it bore a secret only he’d been trusted with. When Cedric’s sock-clad feet met the chilled wood floor and his gaze focused on the dark forest beyond the screen covering the closed windows, he thought he knew what that secret might be.

  Freedom.

  For the duration of Gabriel’s stay in his house, he’d been kept like a bird in a cage. It was the world he was used to—the only world he knew—but out here, divorced from the city and its claustrophobia, he’d glimpsed what it meant to be free for the first time. Cedric buried his nose in the blanket again and looked through the dark. Beyond the damage that Baylor had caused, and beyond the trauma Gabriel still suffered from, was there a young man inside of him who longed to be free? From his situation, from his keepers, and from himself? Every furtive glance, and every small act of rebellion… what was going on in Gabriel’s head?

  There was a lot to think about. Cedric lowered the blanket and went to head inside, but he stopped before he went any farther. There was a scent on the air that struck him as familiar. Wood and leather, and…

  Just beyond the screen, a shadow moved. Cedric shook his head and turned. The night was starting to play tricks on his eyes, and his heart wasn’t helping. What he needed was a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow would be brighter, and the day after that brighter still, until his heart was healed enough that the way forward was obvious.