Chapter 11 Bentley
Bentley
The ball is in my court.
I have a reason to go back to the record store to both collect my guitar and see Tav, but I’m dragging my feet for some reason. Instead, I’m working on websites, loading new content, and yes… that includes the quality of bull semen for a stud rancher.
My life is so weird, yet as a rancher’s son, this is my normal too.
Stop dragging your feet.
It’s been four goddamned days. FOUR. I haven’t played my guitar in as many days either, because I don’t fucking have it.
My annoyance at how twisted up I am over this omega while still denying myself his presence is eating at me. Dropping my laptop beside me, I explode off the couch.
“This ends now,” I growl, grabbing my keys.
My boots are already on my feet because I’ve forced myself to take laps around my neighborhood when I was too jittery to sit still.
Sit ups and push ups fill my early mornings, then I close out my long day of work with a two mile run in a pair of joggers and sneakers.
Anything to quiet the constant whispers in my mind telling me I need to stop being stubborn and go see him. Well, asshole in my mind, you fucking win.
Grumbling to myself, I lock up and stomp down the stairs to the main apartment door that leads to the street.
I just found out that the closing of my house has been pushed out by three months. I don’t understand why they’re now dragging their feet, not when it’s clear I’m paying cash for this.
I’m a superstitious man, something I picked up as an impressionable child.
I know that if bees fly home and don’t return, I should expect incoming rain.
I also know that anything in quantities of thirteen is asking for bad luck.
Glancing at my keychain with the rabbit’s foot, I smirk at the reminder that my sisters are just as bad as I am. They hid this in my bags when I left.
When I called them to ask about it, they reminded me that the city could have new evils I wasn’t aware of and I’d need it. While I haven’t experienced any of it yet, I figured it wouldn’t hurt.
Striding with purpose down the street, my feet take me toward Octavian. It’s almost as if I disassociate, blink, and I’m here.
Autopilot is a hell of a thing. I’m an alpha who tries hard to remain aware of my surroundings since I know the dangers exist, but my roaring instincts to be near my omega are overriding everything else.
Closed.
In the four days that I’ve been gone, Tav has made some adjustments to the place. There’s a steel wrap-around enclosure on the bottom floor that almost reminds me of a closed store in a mall I once saw in a movie.
Why is the store closed?
Tav opens without fail, or at least he has every day that I’ve come down to busk in front of his giant window. I notice a lot more about him than he realizes, and I’m very concerned now.
There is even a spider web growing in the corner of the window, which is even more horrifying. Everything in his store is so nice and tidy. It almost makes me wonder if it’s a control he craves.
I’m unsure why he chose this monstrosity of an enclosure for his record store while it’s closed, and I even pull out my phone to search for robberies in the area.
Nothing comes up. My mind continues to attempt to pull the information in front of me into something that makes sense for a few minutes before I make another split second decision.
I’m not fucking going home without my guitar, and I’ll be damned if I don’t see my omega too.
I know he lives in the same building that he works in, and truthfully it makes sense that he does. Many storeowners do this. It lessens the commute, and they’re on hand if there’s an issue.
Now… to find the entrance way to it. I walk around and find a doorway that’s locked up tight. Unfortunately for him, it doesn’t take me long to unlock it. A quick twist of a screwdriver I keep in my pocket takes care of the minor inconvenience, yet fills my veins with icy dread.
I’m going to need to change his locks because this isn’t safe.
I snort in amusement because I’m not someone that he needs to be kept away from, the rest of the world is.
Pulling open the door as if I didn’t just break in, I relock it once I’m inside.
I can see there’s another door to my right that leads right into the store, and it’s smart for blustery conditions. The less he has to go out, the better.
The walls are a brilliant white, and everything about this entryway is very clean. Hmm. I knew there was a certain way he liked to keep things. The feeling of dread inside of me continues to grow. Octavian would never allow a spider to take up residence near his record store.
Cleanliness is something he’s very particular about. I’m developing an idea as to why, but I need more information before I can begin to decide if I’m correct or not. Even then, I’m hoping that he’ll tell me about his struggles with needing things in their place.
I was going to go so far as to move things around to see what he’d do today, but his store is closed. I also don’t think that’s a great idea. I might get stabbed. I’ll find another access point to discuss his troubles.
One way or another, he’s going to open up to me, especially if I plan to claim him as mine. I refuse to have secrets between us. I’ll show him mine if he shows me his.
My lips twitch at the irony since I don’t have many. The deaths I’ve had a hand in aside, I don’t consider these to be necessarily “bad” things. I have a protective streak a mile wide, and I will and have killed for the people I love.
On silent feet for someone so large, I look around for cameras. I notice the ones I find are placed wrong, and they need to be fixed. By the time I arrive at his door, I doubt he even knows I’m here.
His security sucks.
Raising my fist, I bang on the door like I’m here attempting to break it. I need to startle him enough to open it. There’s a moment where I know that he’s checking the peep hole, and then he’s ripping open the door and swinging at me. Shit, I did a little too well and scared him.
Catching his wrist since I’m taller, I push him further into the loft like apartment, my boot catching the door to kick it closed.
“Tav—”
“Fuck you!” he yells, his knee coming up to make contact with my dick. Twisting my leg in time to save myself, I grunt at how distraught he is. Fuck, that hurt.
Pushing his body away, I open my mouth, only to find that he’s still screaming at me.
“How the fuck did you get in here? I pulled the screen down around the windows,” he yells.
“I wanted to see you,” I say, knowing full well that I’m not helping things. “Why aren’t you open?”
“I… I needed a break,” Tav says, the hand I’m not holding moving to his thigh.
Dammit, who is hurting him?
“Is there someone else here?” I ask, my eyes moving quickly to canvas the loft. It’s all neat and tidy, but that’s all I can notice before he’s pushing me back again.
“You have to go,” he growls. As an omega, his growl is really cute. “Are you here for your guitar? I don’t know if you deserve such a gorgeous piece if you’re going to leave it lying around.”
“I knew it meant I had an excuse to see you again,” I reply. I need to tread carefully. Something really upset him. “I stayed away for too long and that was my fault. I won’t do it again.”
Tav deflates slightly, but I’m still scared to breathe too deeply.
“I considered winding your strings too tightly,” he grumbles.
“People lose eyes that way,” I tease, fluttering my eyelashes at him. “Wouldn’t you miss these gorgeous baby blues?”
“You’re impossible,” he grunts.
“You’re too small and not at all hairy enough to be a Grizzly bear. You do a damn good impression of one,” I say. “So did you fuck up my guitar?”
“No,” he sighs. “You need to restring her though. It’s unsafe to play, since the strings are worn out.”
“So you do worry about these sexy baby blues,” I crow.
There’s no movement inside of the house, and Tav is beginning to relax. He’s also no longer holding onto his thigh, and I wonder if he’s getting muscle cramps. I may need to start bringing him smoothies for that shit.
While I doubt he’s jogging much, these stairs are an intense workout.
“I hear someone asking for a compliment even though he forced his way into my apartment, and doesn’t really deserve one,” Tav says, his lips twitching against his will.
“You can add stalking to your list too,” I say. At his slow blink, I shrug. “What else do you call busking in front of your store? I have a degradation kink, but only for sexy omegas in black rimmed glasses who growl at me.”
I didn’t see my guitar downstairs, and my heart flip flops at the thought that he’s been taking care of it in his apartment.
“There’s something seriously wrong with you,” Tav complains.
“Probably. I know what’ll fix it.”
“Wearing a pair of handcuffs while you take a ride in the back of a squad car?” he asks with an arched brow.
“Kinky, baby. If you want to tie me up, all you need to do is ask. Unfortunately, my thought was a little more mundane. It involves a trip to a music instrument store. I’m new, and I’d prefer the neighborly Minnesotan treatment.”
“We aren’t neighbors,” he snorts. “In case you haven’t noticed, I actively avoid everyone I possibly can. Plus, I don’t believe my Midwest card was delivered to me when I moved here, so you’re shit out of luck on the sweet treatment.”
“Can I get the grumpy one then?” I ask with a wink.
“I don’t feel like going out.”
“How am I supposed to woo you if you won’t let me?” I ask.
He looks at me as if I’ve grown two heads, but I’m deadly serious. I expect to be able to court my omega. What do I look like? A deadbeat alpha?
Absolutely not!
“Is there something wrong with you?” he asks slowly.
“I don’t think so,” I say. “Maybe you should join me on that walk to make sure. You may save my life today. I believe in signs and fate. Don’t you?”