Page 29 of The Runaway
“What are you doing?” Connor asked, for the third time. And this time, Gabriel answered, not bothering to disguise his intentions.
“Checking that you’re okay. I had a nightmare and I couldn’t sleep until I knew you were safe.”
“Why do you care so much?”
Gabriel floundered for an answer. The driving need to protect Connor was undeniable, and yet putting the reasons for it into words seemed impossible. He fumbled around for a chair, then sat down, leaning his elbow on the table. Connor did likewise, wrapping the blanket tighter around himself to stave off the cold.
“I’ve always had a choice,” Gabriel said, trying to get his head around the vague ideas swirling in his mind. “I mean, everyone has limitations, and even alphas can’t just do whatever they want, whenever they want, without consequences. But for the most part, I was free to choose what I wanted to do and where I wanted to go.
“My father was an alpha. He kept an omega for a couple of years and she had me. She died when I was six, in an outbreak of smallpox. My father always did his best to care for me. We didn’t have the best quality food, but there was always enough of it. He ran a shop – a general store. He bought pots and pans and tools and fabrics from merchants. He lived in Paris, so there were always plenty of customers. And he taught me to read.
“I chose to join the army. It was good pay, and I got to travel. It wasn’t a bad life for a young man. For an alpha, at least.
“But everywhere around me, there were omegas who never got to choose anything. What they ate, or where they lived, or what work they did, or who owned them. In the army, it was even worse. The omegas didn’t choose to sign up. They were either bought at the slave auctions or taken as payment from alphas who couldn’t afford their debts. Most of them were small and weak and dreadfully unsuitable for life in the military. And it never made sense to me why some people get to decide exactly what they want to do with their lives and others get no say in it at all. If someone hits me, I can take it to the local baron or earl and have them charged and made to pay a fine. But if someone hits an omega, they just have to accept it. If someone kills me, it’s murder, but if someone kills you, it’s just their legal right. But it’s exactly the same action and the end result is still that a human being dies.
“So the way I see it, if you can’t defend yourself, then someone else has to do it for you. Someone elseshoulddo it for you. And I’m so sick to death of people turning a blind eye and saying it doesn’t matter.”
“So… let’s say you succeed and my masters let me go and I get to stay here.” Connor looked up at him in the dim kitchen, his eyes dark and fierce. “What will you want in return?”
Gabriel was baffled by the question. “Nothing.”
Connor laughed. “That’s bullshit. Everyone wants something.”
“I want you to live a peaceful and safe life on an estate where the people actually care about you.”
“But what do you want for yourself? What doyouwant fromme?”
“What does Antoine want from Dante?” Gabriel asked, trying to find a way to explain himself. In his own mind, the answer to that question was nothing more than love and respect. But Connor wasn’t taking the bait.
“He wants sex. Babies. Work. Loyalty. If Dante just decided he was going to do his own thing, what do you think Antoine would do? How long do you think he’d put up with an omega just ignoring his orders and doing what he wants?”
Gabriel sighed. “Like I said, no one gets to choose what they want all the time. Even Antoine has to manage this estate well. He works hard, he negotiates the sales of his crops, he has to provide food and clothing for his staff. He’s paying for a tutor to educate Lucas. He has a lot more freedom than you do, but he still has a lot of responsibility. So if you really want to put it in those terms, I suppose I’d expect you to put in the work to help maintain this estate and to be kind to those around you. That’s all.”
“What if Dante wanted to learn to read?”
“Dante can read,” Gabriel said. “And write, too. He helps Cirroc keep records of the wool production and sales every year.” Antoine had told him that one evening, when the topic had come up.
Connor’s jaw dropped in momentary astonishment, but he moved swiftly on. “What if Dante wanted to learn to be a carpenter?”
“If it was something Dante genuinely wanted, I’m sure Antoine would see what could be arranged.”
“What ifIwanted to be a carpenter?”
“Do you?” Gabriel asked.
Connor waved him off dismissively. “No. But what if I did?”
Gabriel considered that for a moment. “If there was a genuine benefit to the estate, then I’m sure we could explore the possibilities. Maybe find someone in town who might be willing to train you.”
Suddenly, Connor jumped to his feet. “What are you doing?” he demanded. “Why are you doing this to me?”
“Why am I doing what?” Gabriel asked, completely baffled, not only by the question but by Connor’s sudden change of mood.
“I’minterrogatingan alpha, and you’re just sitting there and telling me I can have whatever I want! You’re supposed to get angry or tell me to shut up. Why can’t you be more like an alpha’s supposed to be?” He backed up a step or two. “It’s all lies, isn’t it? All the pretty words and promises to help me. You’re just playing with me. Why are you doing this?” He was yelling now, but before Gabriel could answer him, the kitchen door burst open and Henry barged inside, a lantern in his hand.
“What the hell is going on?” he asked, then stopped in his tracks as he saw Connor on his feet, then Gabriel, still sitting in his chair. Max and Nicole were right behind Henry; even with the door closed, they’d apparently woken up everyone else.
Henry’s expression turned worried as he looked at Gabriel. “Sorry, I…” He began to apologise, then glanced at Connor again. “Are you all right?” he asked.