by Piper Scott
When that time came, he wouldn’t hesitate. He would do what he had to do.
For Gabriel. For himself.
There was still a way out of this. All he had to figure out was which routes would lead to happiness, and which would lead to ruin.
36
Gabriel
Gabriel packed leftovers into portion-sized storage containers, his body present, but his mind elsewhere. The granite countertops in Sterling’s kitchen were beautiful, and the appliances in the penthouse were cutting edge, but Gabriel took little joy in them. Even a week after leaving Sir’s home, his mind was elsewhere, lost in the reds and oranges and yellows of a place he’d left behind.
The kitchen lights were off, and only the tiny bar of LEDs supported beneath the kitchen cabinets lit the counter. The darkness was better. Sometimes, when it got dark enough, Gabriel could trick his mind into thinking he’d never left.
It was a different kind of pain from when he’d been dragged from The White Lotus by the man without a name. The hollow, empty feeling between his lungs remained, but the distress that absence caused wasn’t anything Gabriel had felt before. In the past, he’d been afraid to be alone, but now, loneliness didn’t frighten him. He’d been afraid when he’d been taken from Garrison because he’d believed he couldn’t survive on his own, but Sir had taught him that wasn’t true. The pain he felt now was linked to something different.
Regret.
Gabriel sealed the top of the container and started on filling the next. He’d prepared a stew earlier that morning that had simmered all day, and there was plenty of it left over. Slices of potatoes tumbled over tenderized meat, and Gabriel had to put the ladle down. The first night, in Sir’s kitchen, where Sir had played with him like Gabriel deserved pleasure, too…
How different those times had been. Over the course of a few weeks, under Sir’s tutelage, Gabriel had bloomed.
It wasn’t like at Stonecrest, where the counselors were nice, but whose therapy sessions never spoke to Gabriel where he needed to be reached. For nine months he’d resisted what all of them had to say because he hadn’t wanted to listen. There was no connection between them—no reason for him to want to change. Back then, no matter how they tried to convince him otherwise, he’d stubbornly clung to the notion that he was in love with Garrison, and that they were the ones in the wrong because Garrison had said so.
It took actually falling in love to realize that he was the one who’d been mistaken.
Gabriel brushed tears away from his eyes and picked up the ladle again. For so long he’d been passive, thinking it was what would make him worthwhile. Whenever a problem got to be too big, or he became too scared of its outcome, he ran. He allowed the worst to happen because he was afraid that playing an active role in the solution would make Garrison turn up his nose in disgust.
Omegas aren’t made to do anything but be bred, Gabriel. Don’t make me remind you again.
Who the hell was he worried would hate him now?
Sir?
Gabriel finished with the leftovers and sealed the last container. He stacked them one atop another, then picked them all up and brought them to the fridge. With the toe of his foot, he pried open the fridge door.
Sir would want him to take action. All along, that’s what Sir had wanted from him. There was a reason why Sir hadn’t done what Gabriel had asked him to do in his note—he wanted Gabriel to be the one to take responsibility. He wanted to know that Gabriel wasn’t afraid.
The popcorn. The collar. The mirror.
Gabriel placed the leftovers on the shelf and closed the door. He needed to take action. If he didn’t, he’d always regret the choices he didn’t make.
The penthouse was quiet. Sterling was downstairs in the club, doing whatever it was that he did night after night, and Adrian was asleep in bed. Lilian’s crib had been moved into his room since Gabriel had come to stay, and he knew that the sooner he got out, the sooner life for his brother would return to normal. Lilian would move back to her own room and there would be no hard feelings.
All he needed now was a plan.
Gabriel left the kitchen and returned to his small, screened-off section of the living room. Next to his duffel bag, now stuffed with laundered clothes free of heat, was the box he’d put his collar in—the same one that had shipped to Sir’s home. On the top flap was a sticker with Sir’s address. Trembling, Gabriel tore the section of the flap with Sir’s address off and held it loosely in his hand.
No one was chaining him to a bed. No one was locking him in a room to force him to stay put. The shackles were gone. All he had to do now was find the courage to open the cage door and fly away.
Adrian’s belongings were by the back door of the penthouse, assembled so he could grab them quickly before heading to work. Keys, wallet, briefcase. Gabriel stood in front of them, heart heavy, but knowing what he had to do.
There was a time in his life when he was willing to be bad so he could be good for Garrison. It was time to extend the same courtesy to Sir.
Gabriel opened his brother’s wallet and took the money from inside. One day soon, he promised the universe, he would pay Adrian back—but if he didn’t do this now, he would never forgive himself. He needed to try.
The back door opened. When it closed, the penthouse was short a soul.
There would be no more inaction. Gabriel wanted this.
Garrison’s lies wouldn’t keep him from happiness anymore.
37
Cedric
A paper tumbled from the medicine cabinet a week after Gabriel’s departure. It slid across the floor until it bumped against the bathtub and came to a stop. Cedric abandoned his quest for a Q-tip and picked it up—it matched the paper he kept in the living room. There was a message written on it shaky, chicken-scratch handwriting. In parts, the ink had run, and the paper showed signs of water damage in scattered, circular spots.
Tears.
Cedric’s breath caught in his throat and his heart lurched forward like he’d just hit a drop on a roller coaster. Without reading what the note said, he already knew who it was from. Reading it confirmed his suspicions.
I’m sorry I did that to you, Sir. It was wrong of me to do, and I’m not just saying that. I wish I got to treat you better. I know that you’re disappointed in me. In the future, I’ll do my best to remember not to mess up. Adrian says we’re not going to see each other anymore. I don’t want that. I don’t want to be taken away, but Adrian says I have to go. I want to see you again. Can you come see me at Sterling’s penthouse? I don’t want to have to miss you anymore.
Cedric stopped reading before the note was finished. He blinked away tears and tried to talk himself down from his sudden emotional high. Getting riled up over a note Gabriel had left him a week ago wouldn’t do him any good. He’d already talked himself down from acting out of desperation. Right now, Gabriel’s recovery mattered more than his feelings—but knowing that didn’t make the note hurt any less.
In the future, I’m going to do my best to be good. I know that I’m not—
A few words were crossed out, struck through and scribbled over so intensely that Cedric couldn’t make out what Gabriel had written. The text resumed.
—well, but I also know that you mean the world to me. I told you that I have a boyfriend and that I was in love with him and that I was supposed to make a family with him, but when I told you that, I was lying to you. I didn’t know I was lying when I said it, but I was. I know that now. You showed me that. Garrison was a bad man, and he did bad things to me. I know that I’m—
A few more words were struck from the page, and the paper had torn where Gabriel had pressed the pen too hard. Cedric blinked away tears and ran his thumb over the wrinkled paper.
—not okay, but I’m doing my best to get better even if you can’t see it. I want to please you. I want to make you proud and wear your collar and share your bed. I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel. I didn’t know that it was possib
le to feel good like that, but you showed me it is. All you did was be kind to me and I hurt you and I’m so sorry.
A whole paragraph was blotted out. Cedric wiped the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand.
Adrian says that I can’t love you because a few weeks ago I said I loved Garrison, but I don’t think that’s true. He’s smart about a lot of things, but he’s not always smart about me. He doesn’t know that I never loved Garrison. I don’t think anyone does. I only found it out for myself after I met you because I figured out that I love you, Sir. I love you, and I went about showing it to you the wrong way, and I’m sorry. I wish I hadn’t messed up so bad.
Cedric’s hand trembled. He sat on the toilet and set his hands on his lap, but it did little to keep the paper from rustling.
Please come see me. Please. I hurt inside because you’re not here, and I promise I won’t try to get you to take my heat next time. I promise I’ll be good. We can work together to make sure that I’m better and then we can be happy and I can give you a family when you want it and then we can be happy together. I won’t ever be mean to you or disobey you or make you angry. You won’t ever have to send me away again.
The last of Cedric’s willpower ran out. Tears streamed down his cheeks, and he let out a single, shuddering sob that he couldn’t swallow no matter how hard he tried.
I love you, Sir. I’m sorry I didn’t know how to show it. When we get back together, can you please teach me how to love properly so I don’t hurt you again? Because all I know how to do is wrong, and I want to do right. All I want is to be good.
There was no signature. There didn’t have to be.
Cedric set the note on the counter and covered his face with his hands. Grief had never felt like this before. The profound ache in his chest crushed his lungs and shrank his stomach. It stole his will to keep going, and urged him to abandon logic and act on impulse. Cedric couldn’t let that happen. Gabriel needed kindness. For now, all he could do was hold on and hope.
A noise jolted Cedric from a dead sleep. Light from the television bathed the living room in its glow, but the volume was muted—the sound hadn’t come from it. Cedric rubbed his eyes and pushed Gabriel’s blanket away. There was a chance that it was the furnace clunking back on after a period of inactivity, but it had sounded too loud and too close, like someone had bashed in the front door.
Cedric rubbed the sleep from his eyes. The front door was a few feet from the couch, and it was still in one piece. The lock was engaged, and the small, frosted window at eye level was undisturbed. It must have been a dream.
Groggy, Cedric searched for the remote and turned off the television. Memories from the night before returned, and with them came the same despair he’d harbored all evening. The note in the bathroom had torn him to pieces, and he still wasn’t over it. To know that Gabriel was hurting and that there was nothing he could do about it shook Cedric’s faith in himself. If he was this easily ruined by another, then what good was he as a Dom? The career he’d built for himself was founded on lies. At heart, he was still the meek submissive eager to listen and obey. Who was he, playing at something he wasn’t?
Before Cedric found the remote, another clattering crash broke the silence of the night. This time, Cedric knew he hadn’t imagined it. He bolted up from the couch, head spinning from the sudden change in position. It wasn’t the front door that was under attack—it was the side door in the carport.
It happened again, and this time, Cedric heard the knob crash against the wall-guard. Booted feet struck the kitchen floor.
Someone was in the house.
Cedric grabbed the closest thing he could find—the lamp off the table. The plug separated from the wall and hit the ground. The noise was much louder than he would have liked, and the footsteps stopped.
A man chuckled in the kitchen. Cedric’s blood ran cold.
He grabbed the lamp’s cord and wrapped it around his free hand so the plug stayed off the ground, then slowly, he crept forward. If he could get to the kitchen doorway and hide to the side, he could surprise the intruder and clock him over the head with the lamp.
Cedric didn’t get the chance.
The footsteps in the kitchen started again, and when they did, they came quicker than before. All Cedric had time to do was widen his stance and prepare for attack. The intruder barreled through the kitchen and came to a stop in the doorway. He didn’t need to come any closer. The light from the television bathed his face in haunting shadows, and Cedric’s eyes widened.
“Hello, Cedric,” the man said. His teeth gleamed in the dim light, and his eyes shone with unmasked cruelty. The air smelled of wood, leather, and... “It’s so nice to see you again.”
38
Gabriel
“It’ll be $21.85, kid.”
Gabriel unfolded a twenty-dollar bill from his pocket, then counted his singles. One. Two. Three. Four. He handed the money to the driver, then opened the car door and stepped outside. In his hand was the jagged piece of cardboard he’d torn from the box his collar had arrived in.
Cedric Langston
514 Goldfinch Rd.
The rest of the address had been left behind, but Gabriel didn’t need it. Sir lived in Aurora, and the taxi driver had plugged the address into his GPS and found it without issue. There was no mistaking the bungalow. Soon, Gabriel would be home.
“Thank you,” Gabriel said before he shut the door. He stepped around the taxi and onto the sidewalk, taking in the house he’d thought he’d never see again. As the taxi left, Gabriel gathered his wits and approached the front door. It was early in the morning, and he knew Sir would be sleeping, but if he needed to, he could figure out which of the house’s front-facing windows belonged to his bedroom. If he tapped at the window for long enough, Sir would wake up and open the door for him. They’d have a frank conversation about expectations and how Gabriel could be good, and then all would be well with the world.
He approached the front door.
The doorbell was a slender rectangular button set to the right of the frame. Gabriel lifted his hand to push it, then stopped.
There was conversation happening on the other side of the door.
It was early in the morning, and Gabriel was certain that Sir lived alone. Nervous, he pressed his ear closer to the door and tried to hear what was going on. Sir wasn’t the type of man who’d bring an omega home so soon after his last one had left, was he? If that was the case, Gabriel was out of luck. He’d only borrowed enough money from Adrian to get him to Sir’s house—he had no way to get home.
“Get the hell out of my house.” Sir’s voice was darker than Gabriel had heard it before, but it was stronger, too—unyielding. “You’re not welcome here. Get the hell out.”
Gabriel laid his palms flat on the door and closed his eyes, trying to hear the response. The other person stood too far away from the door, and all he heard was a distant, masculine rumble. Jumbled noises like those offered no answers.
“You need to leave.” Sir’s voice was steel. He didn’t sound like himself at all. “I swear, if you don’t…”
The voices behind the door drew closer. This time, Gabriel heard the reply. “You don’t have any say in this, Cedric. It’s not your place to make demands anymore.”
The bottom dropped out of Gabriel’s stomach, and he pushed back from the door in horror.
He knew that voice.
He hated that voice.
It was the man without a name.
Reeling from what he’d heard, Gabriel took a few, hasty steps backward and almost tripped down the stairs. He caught himself on the railing and gasped for breath as his throat convulsed. Sickened, he leaned over the railing and dry heaved into the shrubbery by Sir’s front door. It had to be a nightmare. The man without a name couldn’t be inside. He couldn’t. Now that Gabriel didn’t live with Sir anymore, the man without a name had no reason to be there. He should have given up and left Sir alone.
The nightmare would end if
Gabriel walked away. The man without a name didn’t know he was standing outside the door. All Gabriel had to do was leave—to take the sidewalk and turn the corner, then lose himself in the city until he found a pay phone so he could call Adrian to pick him up. But if he did that, there was no telling what the man without a name would do to Sir.
One year.
For one hellish year, Gabriel had been at the mercy of the man without a name. He’d suffered at his hand and done things he regretted. He hadn’t had a choice. If he left now, there was a chance that the man without a name would take Sir, and he’d do the same terrible things to him that he’d done to Gabriel.
Or maybe he’d do worse.
Gabriel couldn’t let that happen.
Sick to his stomach with nerves, Gabriel hobbled down the stairs and sucked in a breath. A small voice inside told him that he was foolish—that all he was good for was serving an alpha, and that there was nothing he could do to help Sir. But Sir had taught him better than that.
It was okay to be scared. It was okay to feel weak. What wasn’t okay was giving up without trying.
Sir deserved his best.
Gabriel rounded the side of the house and entered the carport. The lights were off, but the door was open. The man without a name spoke from deeper within the house, gloating. The individual words were lost, but their malice wasn’t.
One at a time, Gabriel took off his shoes and left them in the carport. The gritty asphalt of the driveway stuck to the bottoms of his socks, and he said a silent prayer that no small stones would catch on the cotton. What he was about to do, he needed to do in silence. Stones tapping against the kitchen floor with each footfall would give him away.