“I can smell him. He smells like smoke.” His face contorts with disgust. “But it’s okay. He’s gone, right? Nicholas, Alpha, he’s gone?”
“Yes, he is. I had some of the security team escort him off. He went willingly so I’m not sure what he’s planning.”
Lorenzo’s voice adds to the mix but I’m too tired to even look toward the door. “He only spoke with Wilson from what I was able to figure out. I’m filing for a protection order in the morning because I don’t like how fucking smug he looked. For now, Wilson, gorgeous, your only job is to let us take care of you.”
I manage a nod as Oliver helps me out of my shirt, Lorenzo starting on my pants. Nicholas is the one to lift me into the tub, letting me disappear into his arms when he steps in after me.
I jerk forward, hating Sebastian’s words in my head as Nicholas’ purr starts up, calming the edges of my panic. Oliver slides in behind me, content to just be in my space, Lorenzo taking a seat on the toilet. This feels like a repeat of everything. I break down, they come together and soothe my worries, and then I resurface.
I’m just hoping that cycle has an end.
Sooner rather than later.
29
Nicholas
Wilson’s guards are back up, his face blank like he’s checked out while his body runs on autopilot.
Watching him fall apart between us had been everything and I had never wanted so much to sink into his sweet ass and knot him the way I once did. But he wasn’t ready for that and seeing him now, I feel like we’ve taken several steps back.
This morning was quiet, his eyes walking all over the apartment before settling back on a cinnamon roll he hadn’t touched. When I reached for him, he flinched and then melted. He’s done that another seven times throughout the day, catching himself each time with a muttered ‘sorry’ before leaning into me.
I was pulling into the fucking parking lot last night when I recognized Sebastian’s beat up ass car just outside the entrance. Never in a million years did I think he would show up sobrazenly and the fact that he made a beeline for Wilson just pisses me off because I could have stopped it.
I’m not sure how, but if I had been there…
I quit that line of thinking and refocus on Wilson. The man I held against my chest at 3 AM has vanished behind impenetrable walls.
From my security post in the east corridor, I scan the floor, counting each sweep. Forty-five seconds per rotation. The amber notes of my scent remain tightly controlled beneath my skin. No one in this club needs to smell the desperate worry radiating through my pores. However, I’ve stationed the largest Alphas by the door and two Betas at the main part of the floor just in case.
It might be overkill but I’m not playing yesterday over again.
Wilson's eyes meet mine at 10:17. I check my watch each time it happens. Again at 10:42. Again at 11:03. His expression never changes, never softens. With each passing glance, I feel something inside my ribcage fracture a little deeper.
When last call finally comes, he still hasn’t relaxed, not that I would have expected him to. His gaze has started to dart to the door, my heart breaking further at the fear lingering in his expression.
I make it to the stockroom before my body finally calls it quits. The door thuds shut behind me, and I slam my fist into the wall. The shelving unit beside me shudders as pain blooms across my knuckles, a relief compared to the formless ache pressing against my ribs all night.
I drop my forehead to the cool plaster. Sebastian is my blood: same parents, same dinner table, same house where we grew into the men we are. My mother’s eyes. My father’s jaw. The Cavallero name stamped on my business cards and on the legal documents chronicling every person foolish enough to trust my brother.
I share a last name with the man who whispered things into Wilson’s ear that left him shaking for an hour. I share genetics with the man who spent three years turning Wilson’s desire to submit into a weapon. I share a childhood with the man who took Wilson from me simply because he could and then broke him, because destruction is Sebastian’s only fluent language.
I punch the wall again. Something topples from the top shelf and shatters on the concrete behind me.
“That was a bottle of Hendrick’s,” Lorenzo says from the doorway. “Oliver’s going to make you replace it.”
I keep my forehead against the wall. “Fuck, sorry. It’s just… how much did Wilson tell you?”
“Enough.” Lorenzo’s steps echo across the stockroom. He stops three feet behind me, close enough that I can smell rain and honey steadying against the amber-tinged adrenaline pouring off me. “I don’t know as much as you do but I know enough to know that it’s going to take a bit to bring Wilson out of his shell again.” He offers a small smile as I twist around to lean back against the wall. “Oliver’s hovering, though. It’s the only reason I haven’t tried a different tactic.”
Even while my attention was on Wilson, it was hard to miss Oliver flitting around the Beta, constantly touching or sending him little smiles. I couldn’t have found better men to be with.
My voice comes out thick and strangled against the wall. “Wilson shouldn’t have had to deal with that. He shouldn’t have had to stand there and defend himself against my brother. I should’ve been here. I should’ve—”
Lorenzo snorts as he steps closer, his aura demanding I look at him. “You should have what? Been lurking behind the bar when Sebastian walked in? You think your presence would’ve stopped him?” There’s no judgment in his words but they definitely snap me out of my head because he’s right. “Sebastian came for Wilson specifically. He came to prove he could still reach insideWilson’s chest and tinker with the wiring he installed. And Wilson looked him in the eye and said no.”
A few years ago, I’m not sure Wilson would have been so strong. He would have caved. He would have gone back home with Sebastian and swallowed every word my brother ever said. “He’s so fucking strong, Lorenzo but I hate that he has to be. I hate that the world around him has tried to break him.” A raw sound filters through my lips as I meet Lorenzo’s gaze. “He’s stronger than any of us give him credit for. Including himself.”
