Chapter 20 Dixon
DIXON
When I opened the front door and stepped onto the landing, I found a wild game of hide-and-seek happening outside the mansion.
Ryder for some reason thought the package might be on top of our mansion—the dumbass was standing on the slick stair railing, hands gripping the roof’s damp edge.
His shoes squeaked slightly as he shifted.
He was going to fall and break his damn neck.
Mac, arms folded over his chest and eyes narrowed, was standing far enough from the front of the house that he could study the entire length.
Catalina was back on her phone, standing a few yards behind Mac.
I took the left side of the double, curved staircase to avoid Ryder.
“Where have you guys not checked?” I shouted over to Mac as my boots hit the ground.
“Start on the left,” Mac pointed to the right, “Tray’s thoroughly checking that side. I’m trying to see anything out of place from here”
“And Ryder’s focusing on the roof because...” I let the thought trail off, waiting for him to fill in the blank. The only option in my mind was: he’s fucking stupid.
“Maybe our delivery person was a former quarterback.” Mac sort of shrugged, expression clearly showing that it wasn’t his idea. “Catalina’s on the phone with the actual delivery company now, not Eros.”
I nodded that I understood and then turned. Oriented this way, Ryder was on the left now. Tray was half-hidden under a bush to the right of the stairs, ass up in the air and sneakers sporting wet leaves on the soles.
“Find anything yet?” I called out to no one in particular as I moved towards the left. Scanning the space, I decided to start at the outer edge of the mansion and work my way in towards the stairs.
“A very pissed off spider and what I think might be dog shit. Making it hard to smell anything.” came Tray’s muffled reply as he shuffled on his knees under the bushes to check another spot.
Ryder shouted something unintelligible, and when I looked over, he was clawing at the roof, feet dangling about a foot off the landing.
“Just let go, dumbass,” I shouted, unable to hide the laughter in my voice.
He did, though it didn’t seem intentional. Ryder landed heavily, knees bending. He’d brought a piece of barrel clay roof tile down with him.
“Shit,” he muttered, dropping the tile in irritation. When it hit the stamped concrete, it snapped in two.
“Guess I’m not the only one breaking the house,” I said loudly, smirking.
“Shut up.” Ryder gave me the middle finger before shaking off the fall and descending the stairs towards Tray.
I glanced over my shoulder at Mac and found him talking with Cat who was now off the phone.
Neither looked pleased, so it was pretty obvious the shipping company hadn’t been any more help than The Institute.
Methodically, I began checking beneath and behind every manicured shrub.
At first, I tried to avoid looking like an idiot the way Tray was—upper body shoved under the shrubbery, butt in the air, and absolute lack of any self-respect on full display.
Yet, after a few minutes of bending my giant physique painfully over, I realized our no-shame-in-his-game pack brother had the right idea.
I dropped to my knees, frowning as the designer landscaping stone cut into my shins.
My senses came to life as I bent even lower and began swiping my arms beneath the bushes.
Wet soil, rotting flower petals, and—Tray was right—dog shit.
We’d been talking about installing security cameras.
Guess it was time so we could find out what asshole was letting their dog shit in our yard.
I moved slowly, putting every ounce of my energy and hope and focus into finding the package that should exist, should have been delivered, but was nowhere to be found.
The rain was picking up, soaking through my shirt and making the world glisten.
It also made the ground muddier and everything slippery.
My hands quickly stained brown, and dirt collected thickly beneath my nails as I worked to push aside wet branches and peer in shadowy corners.
Where the fuck had this delivery dude or gal tossed our fucking package?
If I ever got my hands on them, I’d beat them into realizing that if you’re going to half-ass a job, then don’t fucking do it at all.
“This is fucking ridiculous. What kind of goddamn, second-rate delivery service did The Institute use?” I muttered, extracting myself from beneath the bushes and coming to kneel in front of a heavily flowered bottlebrush.
A butterfly was stationed, unmoving with wings tightly clamped together on one of the crimson flowers.
Enough leaves shielded it above that it was staying dry.
The bush’s citrusy scent was imperceptible thanks to the rainfall.
Sitting up, the smell of dog shit no longer in my face, I realized that another smell was close enough to touch me.
Faint. Pleasant. Jasmine maybe… something woodsy perhaps? Gentle. Scared?
I swiped moisture from my face then lowered my body again and began the search anew.
The closer I crawled towards the front stairs, the sweeter the air around me became. About four feet from the landing’s foundation, the scent intensified. The rain was beating my back heavily now. Thick, large droplets pounding one after another.
Stronger. Closer. Definitely Jasmine. Sandalwood or cedar, I wasn’t sure.
This perfume, whatever it was, touched a part of me that had been deteriorating for too long.
My Alpha, which had been fighting its baser instincts for months, began to vibrate.
My body thrummed with energy as my own chemistry clouded the air, forcefully pushing through the dampness to send tendrils of need towards the mysterious source of the intoxicating aroma.
I moved faster, adrenaline spiking. I searched like a madman, desperation flooding every part of me.
I was almost to the stair foundation. It had to be here.
It smelled like it was a heartbeat away.
Nothing. Nothing on the ground. Dammit!
I growled loudly, frustrating fighting with my hopeless, aching desire. I reached, grabbing at the second to last bush and tearing at it. I ripped away branches, knocked down leaves and ruined blossoms. I was ready to break the world.
But then I saw it…
A slick corner of brown that didn’t match the bush’s insides.
Straining against the sharp ruin of jagged, busted branches that I’d created, I pinched the thing that didn’t belong between two fingers and began to pull.
It had well and truly been jammed inside the middle of the damn bush somehow.
As I pulled it lower and more into view, I found the telltale branding colors of BPS.
The fuckers at Eros had used Beta Priority Shipping.
Being a Beta-backed company wasn’t a fundamental issue.
The fundamental fucking issue was the fact that BPS had a shit Beta Business Bureau rating, and they were the cheapest option.
So, Eros had taken our millions, and they’d sent something so damn important through an unreliable shipping service.
Once again fighting my way back out from beneath bushes, I rocked back on my heels and brought the padded shipping mailer fully into view.
The outside, thank fuck, was waterproof.
I slicked my hand across the surface and knocked off the rain, though those drops were immediately replaced.
Standing, legs shaking, I brought the package up to my face.
It smelled so goddamn good.
Lowering the envelope, hating each inch of distance, I parted my lips about to tell the others I’d found it.
Yet, my throat went dry, and words escaped me.
I couldn’t bring myself to speak. I wanted to enjoy the scent of her for myself just a little longer.
Fuck, if Tessa’s gown smelled like this sealed inside, I couldn’t even imagine how out-of-this-world it was going to smell outside of the mailer.
“Find something?” It was Mac’s voice. I glanced to my right, locking eyes with him.
I gave him a shallow, halfhearted nod—despite every particle of my soul telling me to hide what I was holding.
His eyes narrowed, expression clouding with the kind of hope that I knew he rarely dared to embrace.
Still, I turned away from him even as he began to approach.
I took one staggering step away from everyone, clutching the package protectively against my chest. Mac's footsteps splashed through puddles behind me. His weren’t the only shoes slapping the ground now.
Sloshing water. Trying to get to me. Trying to get to the package.
My heart was hammering so hard I could feel it in my throat.
Mine! It was fucking mine! The glorious goddamn scent was seeping through the waterproof material now with wild abandon.
Was it a trick of my mind? Was it my inner Alpha reaching for Tessa’s Omega?
Her personal perfume wrapped around me, cloaking me in protection, bloating my body with the kind of fast-forward love I’d only seen in stupid holiday movies.
Love at first sight shit. Love at first smell, in this case.
"Dixon." Mac's voice behind me was closer now, more urgent. "Did you nod? Is that it? Did you find the package?” Urgency colored each syllable he uttered.
I should answer. I wanted to answer. No, I wanted to want to answer my loyal pack brother who deserved to see the light at the end of our dark, depressing tunnel.
We weren’t going to succumb to the feral side of our Alphas after all.
We were going to be saved. I’d only recently found out how bad Mac was struggling.
Shit hurt my heart that he’d tortured himself so goddamn much and not leaned on the rest of us.
Why couldn’t I open my mouth? Why couldn’t I just say ‘yes, I found it’?
“Dix, what’s wrong?” Mac shifted slowly around me into view. His movements were careful, his face studying mine. His gaze flicked down to take in the package I clutched so tightly. He sucked in a breath and began to tremble.
Rain assaulted us, blurring my vision of Mac. The others had to be right behind me now. They weren’t moving though. Just breathing heavily. The world seemed to hit pause. The rain froze midair. The only sound was Catalina’s heels clicking. She hadn’t raced forward at the same time as my brothers.
But the mailer was mine. She was mine. I couldn’t share. I couldn’t. No wonder Ryder had been so obsessed after that fleeting moment in Seattle. No wonder he couldn’t let go.
Mine. The word blazed through my consciousness again before I could stop it.
Mine, mine, mine. My stomach warmed with need, and my cock began to harden.
God, if Tessa were only here now. I’d...
I’d... I’d want to touch every part of her, kiss her until she couldn’t breathe, and sink my manhood so deeply into her body that she’d remember the feeling of me filling her forever.
"Dixon, darling," It was Catalina’s voice that broke through to my Alpha who was quickly morphing into that monster which would not be controlled easily. “Dixon, it’s okay. No one is trying to take it from you. Close your eyes.”
It was then that I realized I was staring blankly.
Eyes open but seeing nothing. Everything was on pause.
Frozen. Caged. I blinked slowly, chasing away the wetness clinging to my lashes.
The world switched to slow motion. I rotated my head as if it were trapped in quick-set concrete minutes away from hardening.
I locked eyes with Catalina. Her face was soft, eyes warm.
A strand of wet gray hair clung to her left cheek.
I lifted one hand off the package and towards her face.
She didn’t flinch. Cat was never scared of me.
The mother I never had, always soothing the beasts beneath the bed.
I pushed the wet strands out of her face. She smiled so kindly.
“There you are,” she murmured. “May I have it? I’ll take it inside. You can follow right behind me.”
I still couldn’t speak, but I could—with great fucking effort—lift the package towards her. My knuckles had gone pale. As my iron grip loosened, Cat slowly took the wet package. She hugged it against her own chest protectively.
“See, safe as houses,” she reached up and patted my cheek before turning away and striding towards the stairs.
The other guys didn’t move. Not until I took my first step to follow the package.