Episode 20 GoldieLocked Away #2
Some of the security guys go to the back of the car, pulling out our bags while the rest of them usher us toward an elevator with a keypad on it.
“The lift to our floor will only come if the correct code is entered,” Grieves explains, before typing in a series of numbers that I don’t follow.
The doors in front of us open and I’m moved inside, where another keypad waits, but this one also has a fingerprint scanner.
“We’ll get you added to the system,” Thayer reassures me and I almost ask why, since I’m not likely to be going anywhere without one of them. But maybe they’re trying to pretend like I’m not going to spend the next few weeks in the very pretty cage they’ve designed for me.
We step out into a small vestibule with only one set of double doors coming off it. There are two guards posted outside the door standing stiff-backed and expressionless, as we move to yet another keypad.
I don’t manage to smother the snort of amusement at the absolute overblown security measures they have. But then, I guess this flat is owned by royalty, so it makes sense.
Grieves arches a brow at me. “We take your safety very seriously, bubbles.”
“Apparently,” I murmur as the door opens and they motion for me to go inside.
When they’d told me I’d be staying in a flat outside of the palace, I’d imagined a one room apartment, something nice, but not lavish, just big enough for me to live in and for them to visit me.
I had certainly not imagined this.
It’s huge… and beautiful. A little on the outdated ostentatious side. But still cozy enough I suppose.
“There are six bedrooms,” Forsythe says, marching efficiently through the living room and into the giant kitchen. “Pick whichever one you like. Four bathrooms. An in-home gym. The kitchen should be fully stocked. If there’s anything that’s missing, let one of us know and we’ll get it for you.”
“Or I could go out and get it myself.”
He pins me with a displeased look, before he drags his gaze quickly away, turning to pull open a cabinet door and instead revealing a fridge.
“No. One of us will arrange to have it delivered for you.” The fridge door swings closed and he moves to a cabinet, making note of the contents, like he’s taking inventory.
“There will be guards posted outside the door at all times. Ones hand-picked by me and Grieves.”
I frown. “The building has its own security, doesn’t it?
” I mean, we’d come in through a door with a keypad.
Then the elevator needed a code to access this floor.
Not to mention the door to the apartment needed a third one.
Not to mention that we’d come in through a door in a parking garage where no one saw us, so it’s unlikely that anyone even knows we’re here.
More to the point, they don’t know I’m here.
“Making them stand out there just seems a little pointless.”
“Nothing about your safety is pointless, bubbles.”
I shrug. “Okay. Whatever.” I shouldn’t be surprised that they don’t care all that much about what I want, or my thoughts on a situation.
All of them look at me for a long, assessing moment as I stand next to the island, like maybe they’re waiting for more, but I don’t give them anything else. I'm tired and hungry, and I would have appreciated stopping on the way here for a burger or something.
When none of them move or say anything else, I sigh and step into the kitchen. Forsythe retreats, moves as I do, keeping distance between us, and I can’t help but hurt. This man is supposed to be my prime alpha, the leader of my pack, and he can’t stand to be within three feet of me.
I push that hurt aside and focus on what I can control, what I can do in this situation for myself. It starts with food and ends with pajamas, blankets, pillows, and maybe some mindless television as I doze in and out of consciousness.
“We should probably go,” Forsythe murmurs as I pull open the refrigerator and peer inside.
There are a bunch of premade meals stacked neatly on the shelves.
Instructions for cooking or reheating taped to the top of them.
There also appears to be other items that I could use to make something from scratch, but I don’t have the energy for that.
I grab out the first pre-made meal, and kick the door of the fridge closed as Court says archly, “we should leave?”
“We need to go to the palace, to let the queen know-”
“No,” Grieves growls out. “No, we don’t need to do a bloody fucking thing, but stay here and take care of our mate.”
“You should go,” I cut in, as I examine the oven, looking for how to turn it on, only for Piers to nudge me out of the way.
“Let me, little bird.”
I want to argue, but I’m too tired to, so I just return to the fridge and grab a seltzer out, more for something to do than anything else.
I crack the can and take a sip before repeating, “I mean it. You should go. Let her know you’ve returned with your villainous omega in tow.
Kiss Isadora for the cameras. Do what you need to. ”
The scowls on all of their faces only grow the more I talk, but I’m being serious. “Wouldn’t want to stand in the way of your duties now would I? I know how important they are to you.”
“Pixie,” Court chides. “Come on.”
I lean my forearms on the island, hunching over. “I’m tired. I’m going to eat and take a shower and then fall onto the couch and not move for hours. I’m not going anywhere. You all have things you need to do now that you’re back, go and do them.”
Piers moves next to me, one of his hands rubbing soothing circles between my shoulder blades. “I’ll stay with her. The queen wouldn’t expect me to be there anyway.”
“She accepted you, Piers,” Forsythe reminds him, reminds all of us. “She’ll expect you to act as part of the pack now.”
The beta lets out a harsh, humorless laugh. “With all due respect, Sythe, I don’t really give a fuck what she expects of me. Not anymore. She’s known I’m a member of your pack for years and she’s never once been anything but dismissive of me.”
“But that’s changed now,” the prince protests.
“It’s changed because she thinks it’ll make you more compliant. That by ‘giving’ you me, you’ll give up Florence. You can see that right? It's a manipulation, Sythe. Pure and simple.”
“I know, Piers. Believe me I am well aware of what she was hoping to accomplish by telling Isadora to claim you. But the fact remains that you have been claimed by the Ashbourne pack, by the Ashbourne name, and that means you have been claimed by the same duty as the rest of us.”
Piers’ hand remains steady on my back, the circles slow and soothing, even as I feel tension invade his body.
“The only duty I have,” he says softly, but determined.
“Is to Florence. I told you I was picking her and I meant it, Sythe. I am here because she is. If she’d stayed in Granton, that’s where I’d be. ”
“Piers.” I straighten and his hand falls to the small of my back, before slipping onto my hip and squeezing.
“It’s the truth, sunshine. I know you came here for me, to give me time to make sure you’re what I want, but I don’t need it. I’ve known since our first conversation. You’re what I want, who I want, for the rest of my life.”
I want to tell him that’s a lot of pressure to put on a girl, but I’m too damn grateful. I’ll take whatever he can give me.
Forsythe’s jaw ticks. It does that a lot I realize, his one tell for when he’s frustrated things aren’t going his way. He glances at his watch. “I have to go. The rest of you… do whatever you want.”
He leaves us then, striding out of the kitchen and to the door.
“I feel bad,” I admit as the door closes behind him. “I don’t want to be the reason your pack breaks.”
“Don’t feel bad, Pix. None of this is your fault.”
But isn’t it, at least a little? Guilt rears its head again, just like it did back in Granton, after Piers said he was staying with me, and I realized what he would be giving up. Guilt that led me to agreeing to come here.
“Someone should go with him.”
Thayer sighs, rubbing a hand down his face like he’s as exhausted as I am. “I’ll go. Don’t want to, but I will.”
Court’s green eyes run over me, assessing. Then he nods. “Me too.” He moves around the island toward me with more energy than he has a right to have. He spent the same amount of time travelling as the rest of us, goddammit. “Don’t worry. We’ll keep him safe.”
My brow wrinkles. “I’m not worried about that.”
He gives me a soft smile, pinching my chin. “Aren’t you?”
Before I can answer he bends and brushes a kiss on my cheek. With one more caress of my face, he steps out of the way for Thayer, who pulls me into a hug. “Get some rest, omega. We’ll be back as soon as we can.”
I nod against his chest, taking a deep inhale of his coffee and parchment scent, before he releases me, grabs Court by the shirt and drags him after Forsythe.
Piers, Grieves and I watch them go, and I can’t help the small pinch of disappointment. It's ridiculous. I told them to go, told them to follow Forsythe, to give him the support he needs, but… well, I’m greedy and I sure would have preferred for them to stay with me. All of them.
Piers turns to look at me. “Why don’t you go take a shower or a bath, get cleaned up and into some pajamas. We’ll get the food ready for you to eat when you get out?”
I nod. Even though some part of me wants to argue that I can do it myself, that I shouldn’t let them do everything for me, get used to depending on them. What’ll happen if Piers does change his mind? If he decides being the Royal pack’s beta is a better deal than choosing a broken omega?
But it’s just this once, right?
I can let them do this, let them take care of me for today, and tomorrow I’ll go back to fending for myself. I’ll make all my own meals and I won’t get dependent on them.
“Go take a shower, omega. Get comfortable.”
I glance down at the leggings and sweatshirt I’ve spent the day in. I’m not sure it gets much more comfortable than that, but I do feel gross and so I don’t argue with him.
“Any room?”
Piers nods. “Whatever one you like, though I would recommend taking the suite that has the walk-in closet and the bathroom attached. Then you won’t have to share with the rest of us.”
He says it causally, like it’s just a suggestion, but I’m pretty sure it’s not. That is the room they want me to take. And that’s solidified when Grieves moves to where our luggage is stacked neatly and grabs my bag.
“I’ll show you.”
The room in question is beautiful, sumptuous, a little old fashioned like the rest of the apartment, but still gorgeously decorated in the Ashbourne tartan periwinkle blue and creams. More charming rather than garish.
Grieves slides my bag onto the bed and glances around, running one hand through his hair, like he might be second guessing putting me in this room. But it doesn’t really matter to me, so long as it has a bed and a door I can close to keep them out, that’s all I need.
He drops his hand and looks at me, assessing. “Do you need anything else?”
I tuck my hands into the arms of my sweatshirt and shake my head. “No, thank you. Just want to wash the travel off my skin.”
He nods slowly, and then approaches me even slower, a predator moving toward prey, giving me ample time to retreat if I need it. I don’t move anywhere. Just stay with my feet planted following his advance until my head is tilted back to meet his gaze.
“I’m worried,” he admits, gruffly, as his thunderstorm scent tickles my nose.
“About what?” I ask not bothering to hide my surprise. Not that he’s worried, but that he’d tell me about it. Grieves isn’t exactly a sharer.
One corner of his mouth twitches. “You. Always about you. I’m worried it was a mistake to bring you here.”
My hand drifts up and latches onto his soft black shirt, stretching the fabric a bit as I tug on it. “It was my choice to come.”
He cups my shoulders, rubbing his hands up and down easing some of the tensions I’ve been carrying since I agreed to follow the Ashbourne pack to another country. “I know. I still think it might be a mistake.” He pauses. “This isn’t what you want, bubbles. And it’s killing me that you’re here.”
“Again, it’s my choice to be here, bruiser.
You all-you need time to figure out what you want.
Piers needs time.” Grieves opens his mouth to argue with me, but I don’t give him the chance.
“I know he says that he wants to be with me no matter what, but he’s never really been with your pack.
He deserves to see what it’s like when he’s a public member, when everyone knows that he’s an Ashbourne.
And once that happens… Once he’s seen, he can make the decision. ”
I just really hope it’s me he decides he wants. I want them all to want me.
Grieves’ hands slide up to either side of my neck, holding me in place gently with his calloused hands. “I don’t think he’s going to change his mind, bubbles. But I think the rest of us might.”
My heart flutters and lurches, battering against my ribs almost painfully in its hope.
It only gets worse as he continues. “I know I already have. I’m with you, no matter what the queen wants, or Forsythe decides.
I’ve seen what it’s like to be a fully accepted member of the Ashbourne pack and I can tell you, it’s not worth losing you. ”
I shake my head, but he stills the movement with his hands on my face. “Don’t shake your head at me, Florence.” His thumb strokes my lower lip. “You are worth more than everything. You mean more than everything. You’re it, love.”
I’m not sure what he means by ‘it’, but the statement still makes my heart thud painfully in my chest. Or maybe not the statement itself, but the absolute devotion I see in his eyes. Grieves doesn’t speak a lot, but when he does, I know he means the words.
“Grieves,” I breathe, gripping his wrists, holding him to me. I just barely resist the urge to pull him into my body, to wrap him in my arms and burrow into his big warm chest.
He bends and presses the barest of kisses against my mouth, before pulling back. “Take a shower, bubbles. We’ll take care of things out here, yeah?”