"I’m sure Storm will make sure nothing like that happens," Winter starts, but my father cuts him off.
"Gabriel, your situation is bad. Ten years is the absolute minimum you’re looking at with charges like this. Do you understand that this is your only real chance at having anything close to a normal life?"
I look into my father’s eyes. He’s pushing eighty now, his hair completely gray. He’s still a big, solid alpha, but this situation has taken a toll on him. I can see the shadows under his eyes, the grayness in his face.
We hold each other’s gaze for a moment. The lawyer looks away, focusing on his hands, while Winter’s fingers rest steepled together.
"I want you to have a normal life, and this gives you a shot at that. You could finish your degree, maybe even work in your field as a systems administrator if things go well. None of that would be possible in prison. You’d lose everything. This is a chance, not a perfect one, because you don’t know who might show up to buy your contract, but it’s still better than spending your life behind bars."
The lawyer nods. "It’s a strong option, and it’s only available to first-time offenders, which you qualify for."
"Is this really the best you can do?" I ask quietly. "There’s nothing else?"
"I’m sorry, son, but we’re playing the hand we’ve been dealt. I’ve been working on this for two months, talking it through with the family and your lawyer, and this is it. This is your best chance."
I close my eyes. The idea of tying myself to a complete stranger is terrifying, especially since I have no experience at all. I’ve never had a boyfriend. I never had the courage to get close to anyone, and the one time I tried, with Marcel, it ended like this. Maybe desperation was the worst guide I could have followed.
"I agree," I say, the words catching in my throat like they hurt coming out.
BLUE
The blast is deafening, so powerful it almost knocks me out on its own, but my temporary purple alpha ‘bodyguard’, assigned to me by Fate’s Choice agency, shields me with his body from the force of the explosion.
We both hit the ground as debris and chunks of plastic rain down on us from the ceiling, dust swallowing everything around us, turning the conference room where I was supposed to meet the agency head into something that looks like a war zone.
I lie there stunned, ears ringing, staring up at the cracked ceiling where metal supports now jut out, a broken fluorescent light hangs loose, and torn wires sway faintly.
Right.
Another assassination attempt survived. At this point, it is practically routine. I keep count, and that makes twenty-three attempts on my life so far. The previous ones varied in severity, but a bomb in a conference room is new. My enemies are getting more determined, I will give them that. Without a bodyguard hired from outside, I would already be dead.
I move my hands and legs slightly to make sure everything still works, and it does. The bodyguard, Storm Nolan, scans the room, tense, but the dust makes it hard to see anything.
Then he turns toward me, and I watch his face shift as he begins transforming, his body armoring up the way purple alphas do under stress.
"My boyfriend’s in the next room, I have to go to him! I don’t want to leave you here, but I do have to check on him…" he blurts out, his voice saturated with stress.
A boyfriend.
Someone to care about.
Good thing I don't have anyone like that. One less person to worry about when bombs start going off, that is definitely a plus. Besides, he would have to be someone like Storm, capable of plating himself in carbon fiber armor and surviving a blast of that magnitude.
"Take me with you. Only you can save me," I mutter grimly as I push myself up. I wish I had a bodyguard like him. No other would be enough. I watch as his body finishes shifting into something spiky and monstrous, preparing to face whoever set the bomb.
Then a thought dawns on me.
No. Even someone like him might not be sufficient. Because anyonecan be bought, my enemies know that.
I follow him out of the room where I nearly died, my insides twisting with anger and bitterness. What it feels like to be the most hated man in the world is something only I understand. No one shares that burden with me. I walk that path alone, but… I have no intention of stepping off it.
It is a matter of principle.
I live by rules, by a code, but on days like this, when I brush up against death, those brief moments of weakness creep in. I know I have been betrayed again. My security has been compromised.
The feeling that I am never safe, anywhere, only grows stronger. At this point, I don't even know who to pay or how much just to stay alive.
Soon enough, the place is swarming with police.
