Page 31 of The Runaway

“How about you get the hell out of my way… Fuck me, you’re an omega!” Simon yelled, catching sight of Dante’s tattoos. “How fucking dare you tell me what to do!” He shoved Dante back, then lined up his fist to throw a punch.

In a split second, Antoine caught the fist and twisted it, then shoved Simon backwards. Gabriel could see even from here that Antoine’s eyes were a bright, golden colour. The change in colour was colloquially known as ‘flaring’, and it was the signature mark of a bonded alpha.

“You touch my omega again and I’ll have you beaten to within an inch of your life.” The threat was not an idle one. The rules concerning omegas were largely rewritten once a bonding had occurred, and Antoine would be well within his rights to drag Simon before the baron and demand recompense. Gabriel wondered for a moment whether this had been an intentional part of the plan – perhaps to provoke the Rivieres into some minor criminal charge that could be manipulated to the Calvet’s advantage?

But Simon – fortunately or unfortunately – was too wise to continue poking an angry bear, and he backed up a step. “Look, that one was on me,” he said, trying to appease Antoine. “Just keep your omega away from me, and we won’t have a problem.”

Gabriel shook his head. This conversation was going nowhere. He assumed that Antoine had been trying to gain some assurance of the men’s intentions not to harm Connor again – not that any of them would have believed such a declaration. But both men were so lacking in guile that they wouldn’t even give him that.

Gabriel glanced over at Connor again. He was staring at the ground, teeth worrying his lower lip, looking utterly defeated. It was a fairly sure bet that if they did hand him over, he wasn’t even going to survive the trip home. But what the fuck could they do? As had been pointed out over and over again, the Rivieres owned Connor. So the Calvets had no legal claim…

Fucking hell. The idea that suddenly occurred to Gabriel was so obvious that he was appalled he hadn’t thought of it earlier. Abruptly, he spun on his heel, marching towards the house. As he went, he passed Cirroc. “Don’t let Connor go anywhere,” he muttered to him, knowing he was running out of time. “I’ll be right back.”

???

Connor’s blood turned to ice in his veins as he watched Gabriel walk away. Despite his better judgement, he’d clung to Gabriel’s promise that he wouldn’t let Connor’s masters take him. The promise had been a ridiculous one. What did Gabriel think he was going to do? Killing them was a tempting option, but then Gabriel would be a murderer. Legally, his masters had done nothing wrong, and they would be well within their rights to kill Connor for running away. But even so, he’d hoped…

But after barely a minute or two of trying to reason with them, Gabriel had just given up and walked away. Connor had been an absolute fool to think that anything else was going to happen. He’d learned over and over again that words meant nothing, that actions were the only thing that mattered, and Gabriel’s actions spoke for themselves. Connor was on his own. He always had been.

Despite the fear clawing its way up his spine, Connor decided to end this now. Simon had already tried to hit Antoine, and after being treated with kindness for the past month, Connor wasn’t going to let Antoine get hurt trying to defend a worthless slave.

But as he stepped forward, Cirroc moved to intercept him. “Hold on,” he said softly. “It’s not over yet.”

“I’m not going to let Simon get into a fight with Antoine,” Connor said. “I’m not worth it.”

“Come on, you little cunt,” Simon called, beckoning him forward. “I’ve had enough of your nonsense.”

Connor tried to move forward again, but Cirroc put a hand on his arm. His grip wasn’t rough, but it was firm enough to pull him to a stop. “Not yet,” Cirroc said. “Just give it a minute.”

“Get out of the fucking way,” Simon said, noticing Cirroc’s attempts to stop Connor. “I want my property back. And I’m going to have it.” Cirroc said nothing, but he also didn’t let go of Connor’s arm. “You don’t give him back and I’ll have the baron onto you. The law’s on my side and if I have to have you done with theft, then I’ll do it.”

Before either of them could get any further, the door to the house opened and Gabriel came striding out. He headed straight for Simon. As he approached, Simon backed up a step or two. But at the same time, Grant took a step forward, closing ranks with his brother. It might have been two against four, but Simon was either too cocky or too stupid to care.

“I’ll have you know,” he began, “that I’ve been speaking to-” Before he could finish the sentence, Gabriel thrust a small bag at him. From the way the leather hung low at the bottom, it was filled with something heavy.

“I want to buy him,” Gabriel declared.

As the words registered in Connor’s mind, he felt his entire world tilt on its axis. What the hell? How did he…? He glanced up at Cirroc, still standing beside him. The ageing man looked sideways at him, then winked. “Told you to wait for it.”

Simon looked just as shocked as Connor felt. “You what?” he asked Gabriel, with a deep scowl. “Fuck you. He’s not for sale. We got a long trip back home. And if we sell him, we’d have nobody to fuck along the way. So there’d be no fun in that, would there?”

“I want to buy Connor,” Gabriel repeated. He shoved the bag into Simon’s chest. “Three hundred francs. I think that’s more than a fair offer.”

Connor’s jaw dropped, and around the yard, he heard several people gasp.Three hundred francs?It was an astronomical sum, six times what the Rivieres had originally paid for him. Had Gabriel lost his mind? There was no way in the world he could think that Connor was actually worth that much.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Simon asked.

“That’s more than enough to pay for Connor and to cover the cost of your journey home again,” Gabriel said, not taking his eyes off Simon.

Simon’s gaze slid across to Connor. Connor longed to glare at him, words on the tip of his tongue to tell Simon what he really thought of him. But instead, he lowered his gaze, staring at the ground.Don’t provoke him, he counselled himself urgently. He just had to do nothing, to say nothing, and maybe, just maybe, Simon would take the offer. Because even with as much money as he was being offered, Connor knew his masters well enough to know they were just as likely to turn the money down, just for the sake of gaining their petty revenge on a slave who had tried to slip through their fingers.

The silence dragged on, and Connor didn’t dare look up. He could almost hear the battle going on in Simon’s mind, greed warring with cruelty. What was Gabriel going to do if he said no? What was Connor going to do?

The sound of gravel crunching beneath Simon’s feet was loud in the tense silence, as he shifted position. Then finally, he answered. “Deal,” he said, still managing to sound put out about it. “You want the useless runt, you can have him.”

A burst of relief shot through Connor’s chest, but even now, he didn’t dare move. If he did, then perhaps Simon would change his mind. Or perhaps Gabriel would change his mind, realising what a ridiculous sum he was offering.

He finally dared to look up as Simon turned to go back to his horse. “Not so fast,” Gabriel said, and Connor’s heart sank. So he’d changed his mind after all. “I’ll need a signed bill of sale before you leave,” Gabriel said. “I don’t want to be accused of taking anything that isn’t mine.” He turned to Dante. “Dante, would you mind fetching a pen and paper? We can draw up a document right now.”