Heal (His Command Book 4) Page 3

  It was purpose. Life. A family.

  Gabriel’s stomach twisted. He’d lost his purpose the day he’d been pried away from Garrison, and now it felt like he was never going to get it back.

  “Come.” Adrian was firm, but not overbearing. With a gentle application of pressure, he guided Gabriel from the doorway back into the living room. The leather couch Gabriel remembered from his last visit had been moved—in fact, all the furniture had been rearranged. Everything was different in small, unsettling ways.

  The new sleeper sofa was in a divided part of the living room, separated from the modern furniture Sterling kept by a long, folding screen divider with frosted glass panels. The not-a-room was tiny, but it was cozy, and Adrian eyed the blankets and pillows already laid out in anticipation of his arrival. Sterling hadn’t been in the car when Adrian had picked him up and checked him out of therapy, so Gabriel assumed it was his handiwork.

  He wondered if Adrian resented him a little for it. Sterling was Adrian’s alpha, not his, and yet here he was, making a home for Gabriel when Gabriel had no claims on him.

  “Sit. Make yourself comfortable.” Adrian nodded toward the couch. His hand left Gabriel’s back. “Do you want anything from the kitchen?”

  “No, thank you.” All Gabriel wanted was the familiar blankets on the couch.

  “I’m going to bring you water anyway.”

  Adrian left. When he did, Gabriel checked over his shoulder to make sure he wasn’t being watched, then sidled up to the couch and gingerly selected one of the blankets left on top of it. Guiltily, he wrapped himself up in it like a silkworm spinning his cocoon, then sank down and curled up to stare at the ceiling.

  There had to be a way to get to Garrison. All he had to do was consider his circumstances and reflect on what he knew so far. The last he’d heard, Garrison had been arrested after the police had stormed their brothel and had been found guilty of crimes Gabriel couldn’t hope to understand. Lucian—one of the boys Garrison had brought into their brothel—had a new alpha, and that alpha had worked to make sure Garrison was behind bars for good. For a while, Gabriel had been furious that Lucian had allowed something like that to happen to the man who’d given everything to take care of them, but the longer he sat and thought about it, the more he appreciated what Lucian’s alpha had done. Behind bars, he knew exactly where Garrison was. If he could do something bad enough that he could get arrested, too, then he’d be sent to jail just like Garrison. In jail together, he wouldn’t have to feel so lonely anymore. Neither of them would.

  As he pondered his next steps, Adrian came back from the kitchen with a glass of water and a frosted martini glass with a single olive. Gabriel sat up and let the blankets fall so he could accept the water Adrian offered. Adrian stepped up onto the couch and lowered himself gracefully so he sat cross-legged at Gabriel’s feet.

  “What are you drinking?” Gabriel asked. It occurred to him that he’d had a birthday in Stonecrest, and he was now legally able to drink. Another unwelcome change. He wished he could shrink farther into the blankets and hide his nose behind the fabric, but his new position made that impossible.

  “Vodka martini. Sterling drives me up the wall with his gin and tonics.” Adrian plucked the tiny plastic skewer with the olive and waved it at Gabriel. “You’re old enough to drink now. We should go out sometime. You want the olive?”

  “Yes,” Gabriel mumbled. The olive traded hands, then found its way between his lips. When it was gone, he frowned and let his gaze come to rest on Adrian’s shoulder, right by the crook of his neck. It was less intimidating than looking him in the eye. “But that’s not what you wanted to talk to me about, is it?”

  “No. It’s not.” Adrian cradled the martini glass in one hand, its stem dipping down between his middle and ring fingers. Slowly, he tilted the glass this way and that, but never enough so that the clear liquid inside spilled over the rim. “We need to talk about what you’re going to do to get better.”

  More than ever, Gabriel wanted to burrow under the blankets and never come out. Getting better meant that Adrian thought he was broken, but that wasn’t the case at all. Gabriel wasn’t broken—he was lovesick and stuck in a situation he didn’t want to be in. There was a difference.

  “It’s okay that Stonecrest didn’t work out.” Adrian took a sip of his drink, then frowned and lowered it to his lap. The rounded bottom dangled by his thigh, not quite brushing it, but close. “Not everyone heals in the same way. That’s fine. I’m not angry at you for that. If anything, I should have pulled you out sooner. Six months without results is a long time, but nine months? That’s my fault, and you have my sincere apologies.”

  “You shouldn’t have to feel sorry.” Gabriel looked away from Adrian to watch as he tapped his tiny plastic skewer against the rim of his glass. The delicate bell-like noise was a kind distraction, and it allowed him to focus on something other than his brother’s body language. Adrian said one thing, but the tension in his posture screamed disappointment, and Gabriel didn’t want to think about it. The truth was, he’d fought against his therapists with everything he had. He’d actively resisted treatment and done everything in his power to shut down his therapy sessions.

  He wasn’t broken. All he needed was to get back to Garrison.

  “Well, I do… but not for anything you did. The thing is, I have a solution… I just need you to trust me.”

  The tone of Adrian’s voice wasn’t right, like he was reluctant to share his master plan. Gabriel glanced up from his glass and dared to look at Adrian’s face, but what he saw only confused him further. There was concern there, yes, but there was disinclination as well. It stretched his lips thin and turned his face more serious than it should have.

  “Adrian?” Gabriel asked uncertainly.

  Adrian took another drink, deeper this time, then set the glass down and ran the back of his arm across his lips. He sat up straighter, furrowed his brow, then tightened his shoulders in a way that convinced Gabriel that what he had to say next would be difficult.

  It was.

  Adrian closed his eyes, let his shoulders drop, then spoke the words that would shape the rest of Gabriel’s life. “We want to give you to someone, Gabriel—someone who can help you in a way that Stonecrest never could. If therapy isn’t helping, we have no choice but to try something else.”

  “Who?” Gabriel asked as his lungs shrank and every muscle in his body wound tense with apprehension.

  Adrian closed his eyes and shook his head. “We’re entrusting you to an alpha.”

  3

  Gabriel

  The bottom dropped out of Gabriel’s stomach, and the abyss he found waiting beyond it stretched into infinity. The glass in his hand was suddenly too cold, its weeping condensation too wet. A chill ran down his spine, and for a second, it felt like the same clammy beads of water that clung to the glass had adhered to his body. “You… what?”

  “We want to give you a new alpha.” Adrian tightened one of his hands into a fist, then relaxed it. The movement drew Gabriel’s attention, but it did nothing to yank him out of his free fall. The world spun, and the first pangs of nausea tightened his throat and flooded his mouth with saliva.

  A new alpha?

  No.

  He couldn’t.

  “You’re sad Garrison is gone, aren’t you?” Adrian was looking at him—Gabriel felt the intensity of his stare—but he couldn’t bring himself to meet his gaze. “You can’t mourn forever, Gabriel. Garrison isn’t coming back. It’s time to move on.”

  No.

  Gabriel squeezed his eyes shut, as if blackening out the world might make Adrian and his awful statement disappear, too. It didn’t, and it wasn’t until cold water from his glass splashed over Gabriel’s trembling hand that he realized that closing his eyes was making things worse. Desperate to find relief, he opened his eyes and thrust the glass at the tiny end table set up beside the couch. Water spilled over the rim and soaked the table, but he didn’t care. In tha
t moment, his world was falling apart—ruining the finish of his brother’s furniture came second to his own welling despair.

  He belonged to Garrison. He was Garrison’s property. If Garrison found out he was with another alpha, bad things would happen. Bad, bad things. All Gabriel wanted was to be good.

  “We’re going to give you to someone.” Adrian reached forward and gripped Gabriel’s knee through the blanket, likely in an attempt to be reassuring, but Gabriel didn’t want to be touched. Panic poisoned his thoughts and left him breathless. It speared his lungs, thousands of minuscule pinpricks strong, and made each breath he tried to take painful to draw in.

  No.

  He wouldn’t. He couldn’t.

  Adrian couldn’t make him.

  Gabriel jerked away from Adrian, but his legs were tangled up in the blanket, and he tumbled to the floor. The hardwood bit into his palms, and the force of his ungraceful impact sent searing pain through his knees, but panic numbed him to external stimuli.

  He needed to run.

  Like a startled rabbit, Gabriel kicked the blankets back and scampered across the floor. He’d left his shoes by the door, and his socks slipped against the smooth wood and made traction difficult, so he depended on his palms to guide him as he darted forward blindly. There were two ways out of Sterling’s penthouse—one that led to the fire escape down the back of Sterling’s building, and one into the club Sterling owned. Gabriel had never been to the club before, but he felt like maybe if he could break for it—if he could lose himself in somewhere he’d never been before—no one would know where to look. Adrian would never find him, and he could figure out a way to be with Garrison all on his own.

  He wouldn’t be owned by another alpha. It was bad enough the man without a name had kept him against his will after the bust on The White Lotus, keeping him from finding Garrison before Garrison was imprisoned. Gabriel would not allow himself to belong to anyone else again.

  “Gabriel!” Adrian shouted, but compared to the rushing in Gabriel’s ears, it came across as a whimper.

  If he could get across the room and around the corner, down the short hall that led to the soundproof door barricading Sterling’s living space from the club, he’d be free. He wouldn’t have to make Garrison angry. He could be good.

  There were footsteps behind him, hurried, close to frantic. They spurred Gabriel onward, and he took the corner half-raised from the floor while skidding on his socks. The door was close, and it was unlocked. All he’d need to do was twist the handle and wrench it open, and from there, he’d let fate take him where it would.

  His hand closed around the doorknob, but the knob wouldn’t twist. In the fraction of a second it took him to realize the knob was jammed, Gabriel looked up with wide, pleading eyes. Desperate, he pulled the door with as much force as he could.

  To his surprise, it flew open.

  Someone stumbled in from the other side, their hand wrapped around the outside knob. Gabriel shrieked as the blur of human-shaped weight hit him. They toppled to the floor together, Gabriel effectively pinned beneath the individual’s body weight.

  Three things made themselves obvious right away, and not even Gabriel’s fear-driven mind could chase them off.

  The first was that the stranger was an alpha—the scent was subtle, but the notes it bore were powerful and heady.

  The second was that the stranger was male—the rugged cut of his jaw and the barely-there stubble that shaded his skin gave him away.

  The third? The third made Gabriel’s pounding heart skip a beat and stole the air from his already choked lungs.

  The third was that the stranger’s eyes were pale green, but his pupils were ringed with a rich brown that radiated outward like the rays of the sun. They were the most stunning eyes Gabriel had ever seen.

  “You’re a flighty little thing, aren’t you, Gabriel?” the stranger asked, making no attempt to remove himself from where he’d fallen. Even if he had, Gabriel wouldn’t have been able to get up. Those green eyes pinned him in place, and the shock of hearing his name from the stranger’s lips ensnared him.

  “Who are you?” Gabriel managed to whisper, but his voice was so hoarse and his words were so broken that he wasn’t sure the stranger understood.

  He had.

  The response came naturally, flowing like stream water over smooth pebbles, as if it could wash Gabriel of his sins from the inside out. The magnitude of the reply thrilled him, seeping through his clothes and waterlogging his soul until his mind was choked for thoughts like lungs burning for air.

  The stranger looked at him, those green eyes playful and engaged, and said words Gabriel would never forget.

  “You will call me Sir.”

  4

  Cedric

  Hello, Rabbit. What’s going on behind those terrified eyes?

  Cedric rose from where he’d fallen, careful not to put any pressure on the omega beneath him. Gabriel was on his back, eyes wide, more gorgeous than Cedric ever could have hoped. The frumpy teen hiding his body beneath billowing hoodies had grown into a stunning young man no longer ashamed of who he was.

  Tight jeans that hugged his thighs. A fitted shirt beneath a sweater that had ridden up his flat stomach. Pretty flushed cheeks a charming shade of pink…

  Cedric was taken by him.

  He offered his hand to Gabriel, and after a moment’s hesitation, Gabriel acquiesced. The touch of his palm against Cedric’s as he accepted Cedric’s help shot sparks down his arm and weakened his grip, and Cedric squeezed a little tighter than he needed to in a bid to combat it. The touch startled him, and as soon as Gabriel was on his feet, he broke the contact between them and pushed his hands into the back pockets of his pants. His right hand—the one he’d used to help Gabriel up—found his wallet, and he played with the corner of the thin, soft leather.

  It was okay to feel this way. It wasn’t like attraction to someone new was a bad thing. There were plenty of men who’d caught his eye, and plenty of women, too, but Gabriel?

  There was something different about him.

  Something different in the way he moved, even if that movement was just to climb to his feet or angle his head downward to dip his gaze and broadcast his subservience. Grace. Elegance. Something. Cedric couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but there it was, refusing to stare him in the face, just an arm’s length away.

  And it was his.

  All his.

  He’d be damned if he backed out now.

  “I see you two are already acquainted.” Sterling stepped around Cedric and came to stand by Adrian, who’d just skidded around the corner and come to a sudden stop in the hall. Sterling set a hand on the small of Adrian’s back and guided Adrian to his side. The fear in Adrian’s eyes was obvious to Cedric even in his peripheral vision—whatever had happened to send Gabriel running for the door had rattled him.

  And it had rattled Gabriel, too.

  Cedric saw it in the startling ocean blues of Gabriel’s eyes as clearly as he saw it drain the color from his face. The wonder that had once blown Gabriel’s pupils wide and lifted his brows while he lay stunned on the floor simmered into nothing, but Cedric remembered the look. His heart wouldn’t let him forget. Golden-brown hair, long enough to tug, framed Gabriel’s face. It was just messy enough that it was adorable. The cut of his jaw was delicate, and the bridge of his nose was refined, but his face lacked the severity that Adrian’s boasted. The gentleness he embodied, from his feminine face to the slender, willowy build of his frame, was almost too perfect to be real.

  If Cedric wasn’t careful, he knew that a boy like this would undo him. Piece by piece, he’d dismantle the carefully established boundaries Cedric had put in place and leave him flayed open like a frog on a dissection table, all of his vulnerabilities exposed. He’d lose himself to those eyes, distract himself with the fullness of Gabriel’s lips, and then—

  “Gabriel?” Sterling asked. His voice tore Cedric from his thoughts so suddenly that Cedric ne
arly jumped. “Do you know who this is?”

  Gabriel didn’t lift his head, but his gaze did flicker upward, as if he was curious. He looked at Cedric nervously from beneath his lashes, then glanced back down before he spoke. His shoulders pinched closer to his neck. “Yes. That’s… Sir.”

  Fuck.

  Cedric’s cock started to stiffen, and he pushed his hands forward in a bid to bunch the fabric by his fly to hide his erection. A short distance away, Adrian’s brows knitted together. The panic in his eyes was sharpened by irritation. It looked like he was about to cut loose with a scathing remark, but before he could speak, Sterling tugged him closer. “That’s right. He’s yours for now, if you like him, at least until we figure out what our next step is. Right, Adrian?”

  There was a dynamic at play between Sterling and Adrian that Cedric didn’t understand, but he let it go. With Gabriel standing in front of him, he couldn’t keep focused on much else for all that long, anyway. How could he? Gabriel wouldn’t meet his eyes, but it only made Cedric want to know more.

  He was already so submissive. What else could Sterling and Adrian want from him?

  “Gabriel knows Cedric from high school,” Adrian said stiffly. The conflicted look on his face remained. “Cedric and I hung out with the same crowd. You remember him, don’t you, Gabriel? Cedric Langston?”

  Gabriel looked up again, only just enough so he could look at Cedric from beneath his eyelashes. For a second, Gabriel watched him. A second was all it took. Cedric swallowed the lump rising in his throat and tried to ignore the way his heart fluttered.

  Sex was sex, but emotion? He didn’t get emotionally attached to his clients. No pretty faces had ever made his heart skip a beat like Gabriel did.

  Gabriel nuzzled against his own shoulder, bunched up so tightly from his nerves that he was stick-skinny. It looked like he badly wanted to be touched, to be held, and to be directed—and the urge to step in and fill that role for him was overwhelming.