Page 16 of The Runaway
Okay, maybe he needed to be more specific. “What’s the most times in any given day that you were mated?”
Connor thought about the question for a moment. “Fifteen. Nine times by an alpha and six times by a beta.”
Gabriel’s eyes flew over to Antoine’s in shock. On an estate where an omega couldn’t be mated more than twice in a single day, that number was outrageous. Antoine’s face was studiously blank, but Gabriel saw the way his fist had clenched in his lap.
“When you were injured, did the alphas make any effort to treat the injuries?”
“No, sir.”
“How many betas were on the estate?”
“Nine.”
“And how many omegas?”
“Four.”
“Is that including the one who was killed?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Was it typically made clear why an omega was being punished in any given situation?”
“No, sir.”
“Can you give me an example of a time an omega was punished for something that may have been beyond their control?” He phrased the question carefully, so as to avoid laying direct blame on the alphas for the punishment, lest Connor feel pressured into defending them. The answer would be telling, though. Connor had free rein to choose any example he liked, from the insignificant to the extreme. And whatever detail he chose would not only tell them about the situation on his estate, but also give them a clue about how much he currently trusted them.
Again, Connor hesitated. His eyes flickered up to Antoine, then over to Gabriel. For a split second, there was something in his expression besides fear; a shrewdness that was gone again so quickly Gabriel might have imagined it. “One of the alphas attempted to mate with an omega,” Connor said. “He was not able to achieve an erection, so the omega was beaten.”
Gabriel nodded slowly. He was about ready to wrap up the conversation, having gained all the information he needed. But before he could say anything, Connor continued. “Another time, an omega was beaten because it rained.”
Technically, that would be considered an overstep. Gabriel had asked for one example, not two. Perhaps they were making more progress than he’d realised? “Was any part of the farm’s property damaged because of the rain? A leak in the roof, for example, or a spoiled crop?”
“No, sir. The alpha was upset because he had to ride to town in the rain, and so he beat the omega who had been sent to saddle his horse.”
Gabriel glanced sideways at Antoine again. The other man gave him a subtle nod. They were done here. “Thank you, Connor,” Gabriel said. “That’s been very helpful. Dante will take you back to the kitchen and you can continue your meal.”
Connor nodded meekly, then followed Dante out of the room.
“I retract my earlier statement,” Antoine said, the instant the door was closed. “His running away has nothing to do with either poor behaviour or misguided expectations.”
It was gratifying to hear it, so Gabriel skipped the whole part about saying ‘I told you so’. “So what’s your opinion on what we do next?” he asked instead.
Antoine let his head fall into his hands. “God, what a mess.” He sighed and sat back, while Gabriel simply waited. “We let him stay,” Antoine said, after a pause. “What other choice do we have? There’s no way in the world I’m sending him back to that hellhole. And sending him away from here would be just as much of a death sentence. I’ve seen Connor’s kind before.” He shifted in his seat, turning to face Gabriel more fully. “I don’t often talk about this, but when I bought Dante, he was on the verge of being broken. In his case, I think he would have ended up killing someone. And knowing what I know now about what was done to him, I wouldn’t blame him. Connor is much the same, but in his case, he’s looking for death as a way out.” He shook his head. “I can’t turn my back on that.”
“How did you rehabilitate Dante?”
Antoine shrugged. “Time. Patience. Walking on eggshells through the most mundane of situations until he finally realised I wasn’t going to hurt him.”
“Do you think there’s hope for Connor if we do the same for him?”
“The fact that he ran away says he hasn’t lost hope yet. But something I learned from Dante is that the things that are of most concern to Connor are likely things that would never occur to you or I. We will make mistakes. Whether or not Connor can forgive us for them is up to him.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Connor sat at the end of the long table in the kitchen, staring at the plate of food in front of him in awe. It was eight o’clock in the evening, and the omegas had just sat down to dinner. They settled themselves around the table, chatting amicably, making vague complaints about the day’s work – with no real venom behind the words, Connor noticed with interest. They were also displaying no surprise whatsoever about the small mountain of food set before them. There were roast potatoes and pumpkin that had been flavoured with thyme and rosemary, mushrooms cooked in butter, a plate of roasted nuts, boiled spinach and carrots, and a large loaf of bread that had been carved into thick slices. He’d never seen such a feast laid out before, never mind one that he was actually allowed to eat.
He’d learned the names of the rest of the omegas throughout the day. There was Henry, a quiet but cheerful man in his early thirties. Max was heading towards fifty, and in Connor’s old estate, he would have been sold by now, no longer attractive enough to be appealing to the alphas, but here, it was fully expected that he’d be kept for the full length of his life. To have such security in one’s position must be a wonderful thing. Helen was nearly forty, a stern, no-nonsense woman who had nonetheless told Connor he was very welcome when Antoine had announced that he would be staying with them for a while. Adalene was twenty-three and was Niles’s personal omega. There were also Michelle, Nicole and Claude, bringing the total number of omegas to eight.