Page 8 of Therefore

Chapter Seven

Trystan

E xperiencing a heat without an alpha was agony.

Hours, sometimes days, of a burning need that was never quite sated.

But when I’d woken up with a semi-clear mind for the first time in hours, I forced myself to get out of Emerson’s penthouse before another spike hit me.

Riding it out in my shitty flat wasn’t ideal, but I had a system: give my flatmate my phone and get them to lock me in the bathroom, throw in some energy drinks and snacks, run a cold bath with the most overpowering bath salts hands could steal, and spend some quality time with a knotted dildo.

Classy? Not even a little. But fucking effective.

Now that the worst was over, my body had cooled to a regular temperature, and I could finally appreciate a warm shower. I scrubbed my skin until it was as red as my arse and the water ran cold.

Eventually, I called it quits and dried myself, pulling on a comfy old pair of sweatpants that wouldn’t irritate my still-sensitive skin. The shower helped me feel more like myself again, but I could still smell leather and patchouli on my skin. The scent of an alpha. Emerson.

I scrubbed a hand down my face with a groan.

He’d been living rent free in my mind ever since I got out of the penthouse.

At least I’d had some fantasies to dip into for the rest of my heat.

Getting knotted by a dildo was enough to quiet my inner omega for a few minutes.

A real alpha’s knot turned out to be so much better than I imagined.

I almost wanted to kick myself for avoiding it for so long.

Emerson was responsible for the best orgasms of my life, and part of me wished I never left.

If he’d had his way, I’d probably still be there. And if I were an honest man, I’d be willing to admit part of me wasn’t mad at that idea.

Too bad I steal for a living.

That was something I hadn’t considered. Emerson was more than happy to help his omega and make all the sweet promises of priorities and care, but it was literally his job to put me in jail.

Grinding my teeth, I ran a hand through my hair, pulling at the ends. If my life insisted on being a fucking joke, it should at least be funny.

Gulping down the last of a lukewarm energy drink, I went looking for my flatmate, Bee.

We’d been friends since our early teens, though Bee had been smart enough to stay away from Roman’s shady deals.

Instead of engaging in theft the old-fashioned way, like me, they liked to make rent by hacking information, then selling it to the highest bidder.

The only reason I didn’t wholly approve of their method was because I wasn’t patient enough to sit and do that myself.

I preferred the adrenaline of the hands-on approach, though I appreciated Bee’s assistance from time to time.

I called out, “Hey, Bee! What time is it? How long have I been out?”

Bee looked up from their laptop, their scraggly copper hair sticking up in every direction and the screen’s light reflected in their glasses. “Almost midnight, so only about eighteen hours. Surprised to see you up so soon.”

“Good to see you, too,” I muttered dryly, though I wasn’t lying. Bee could see through that shit too easily. “Any news?”

“Like in the world or specifically from Roman? Because, yes.” They rolled their chair away from the desk, leaning back in a stretch that had their back cracking like a glowstick.

“You had a text a few hours ago. Said to hurry it up or… Well, I’m not comfortable repeating the threat.

Go ahead and use your imagination, then make it a lot worse. ”

Picking up my phone from the desk, I flopped across our questionably stained sofa and read Roman’s message.

Fuck. He wasn’t kidding around this time.

Looked like the client was pressuring him on top of the usual turnaround time.

Who the hell was so desperate for that book?

The job outline said it had already been in police custody for weeks.

I stared at the ceiling, tapping my phone against my chin as I relayed the message to Bee. “Doesn’t look like he knows exactly what happened yesterday—”

“You mean you going into heat and begging the target to fucking rail you?”

One of these days, I’ll learn to keep my mouth shut around Bee.

“—but he’s sent an updated location of the book,” I finished. “Also, Leo’s apparently getting ready to step in if I don’t get it done, as per fucking usual.”

Bee stood, joining me on the sofa by lifting my legs and sitting with them on their lap. They tapped a rhythm on my shins, deep in thought. “Is Leo the huge one who broke your nose last year?”

“That’s him.”

“The one who’s further up Roman’s butt than that alpha was up yours this time yesterday?”

A swift heel jabbed into Bee’s gut was my response. Little jerk got away with way too much.

Chuckling to themself, Bee turned their head to me and asked, “In all seriousness, do you have a plan for how to get that book? He’s gonna be expecting you this time.”

I nodded. “That’s why I have to strike his office tomorrow morning. He won’t expect me there so soon. I’ll probably need your help this time, if you’re up for it.”

“An in-person job?” Bee grinned at me. “For you? I suppose I could be persuaded.”

Matching their grin, I sat up and clasped their shoulder. “You do make a wonderful distraction.”

We had a plan. Or at least, the bones of a plan.

I’d never fucked up a job this badly, let alone literally. But now that I was back in my element, with Bee at my side, the strategy flowed, and things started coming together. By the time we were ready, we had a few hours to rest up, then it was off to work.

Emerson wouldn’t know what hit him.