ELIANO #4
The fuck just happened?! How could I be that stupid, that reckless, to crawl into the snake’s nest and expect not to get bitten?
Dragging myself toward the car, I curse under my breath the entire time, dipping deep into my full Sicilian repertoire of elaborate profanities.
Dammit, I need to get out of the city, and fast!
Now, Rocco knows I’m here.
He won’t stop until he finds me. I can’t endanger Storm and Damien any longer. I need to haul my ass to Tanner’s house and somehow push this weird investigation forward.
The drive home passes in a trance, almost on autopilot.
The kendo swords keep clashing before my eyes in short flashes, like camera strobes, and my arms tense on the steering wheel in reflex, driven by muscle memory.
I force myself to shove the whole thing out of my head. It feels like that’s all I’ve been doing lately, first pushing away the pain of breaking up with Salt, and now burying another traumatic mess on top of it.
I’m going to lose it. I swear, I’m going to go insane.
When I arrive at the small house, I find Storm and Damien on the living room sofa, in the middle of having sex.
Fuck, not that.
Not now!
Without looking, I pass them and head for the stairs, aiming straight for my room, but Storm’s voice stops me.
"Hey! Eliano! You’re bleeding!"
He smells it, for sure. I stop in my tracks but don’t turn around. I already caught a glimpse of his monstrous dick plunging into Damien’s wet hole, and I definitely do not need a repeat.
"I’ll be in my room," I reply curtly. "Sorry for intruding."
A minute later, Storm, wearing only his pants, rushes upstairs and invades my space while I shakily try to wipe the dried blood from my face with a tissue.
Reluctantly, I turn toward him. I have no desire to look at the strange body of a purple alpha, crisscrossed with a network of purple lines and places where his bony armor pushes through the skin during the fighting mode. I keep my hand pressed to my cheek.
"What happened, Eliano?" Storm looks at me in disbelief.
"Nothing serious. Just a small scuffle with some idiot. I’ll be fine," I say, downplaying it. My voice comes out surprisingly light. I’m good at pretending, I guess. There's no way I'm discussing Rocco with him.
"Damn it, the blood is still soaking through the tissue."
"It’s a clean cut. I’ll just disinfect it."
"Eliano, be honest," he says, his tone changing, sharpening. "Did you get yourself into trouble?"
Our eyes meet.
"No. Rather, I… got out of it. But I need to speed things up here in the city and go back to the island. This isn’t a safe place for me."
We hold each other’s gaze for a moment. Does he suspect something? Never mind. I’m gearing myself up to deny everything, to make it seem like nothing important. But he somehow senses my resistance. Finally, he just lets out a huff, giving up, then slowly nods.
"If you need help, say the word, Eliano."
I close my eyes. "You’ve already helped me more than enough. I’m grateful. But I need to finish this last part on my own."
Silence settles over the room, and I feel the weight of my fucked-up life about to knock me flat.
Please, Fate. Make a miracle happen. Just make a miracle.
Let things finally start falling into place.
◆◆◆
After a night of relentless nightmares in which I’m back in a cage, whipped by Rocco this time instead of Anzo, my back flayed raw, skin peeling away and blood spilling like a river, I wake feeling like a brewing thunderstorm, impatience surging inside me.
The need to do something is almost unbearable; I have to finally take a risk. I can’t just keep sitting there, staring at Tanner’s house forever.
My alpha nature, dormant for weeks, stirs awake and demands action, confrontation, something to actually move.
So I guess I owe Rocco that push.
One more time, I pull out the picture of me and Salt and lock my eyes on his face.
"Maybe you hate me… okay, it’s hard for me to accept, but I have to. And no matter what, you still deserve closure with Senu. I have to figure this out, for you, Salt," I whisper, then sit down.
I squeeze the photo in my fingers and close my eyes.
Focus, Eliano!
Think about what’s been done and what you still have to do.
Go through everything carefully.
Analyze the scenarios.
Watching Tanner’s house all that time hasn’t been pointless. I now know exactly where the cameras covering his yard and driveway are positioned.
Cutting the power would not solve anything. I have learned that systems like this usually have backup batteries that keep recording even during a blackout.
I assess how the cameras are positioned and what angles they cover, until I finally determine that there is exactly one blind spot. It faces the back wall of the building, where there is nothing but a downspout.
There is, however, a small attic window in the roof. I watch it, struggling with myself.
After one more day of deliberation, I choose early morning, shortly after Tanner leaves the house.
Of course, he could come back quickly. I know by now how unpredictable he is, but I have to take the chance. I cannot stay stuck forever.
The downspout turns out to be solidly attached.
Climbing it is not especially difficult.
I’ll admit my forearms are still sore after the fight with Rocco, but I refuse to let it discourage me.
There are brackets at regular intervals holding it to the wall, forming a kind of ladder.
Since I took off my shoes, I can wedge my toes between the wall and the downspout and pull myself up that way.
The climb takes about ten minutes. I stay focused, careful, and move as fast as I can.
The window is locked, but wrapping my fist in my jacket, I break it, clear away the glass and open it from the inside.
Beyond it is a dusty attic filled with cardboard boxes and old furniture. I doubt Tanner comes up here often.
Just to be safe, I lift the lid of one of the boxes and temporarily block the window to prevent any draft that Tanner might notice.
Since I am here, I quickly go through the boxes.
Most of it is junk, but one thing catches my attention. In a big box that looks relatively new, there is a pile of clothes.
I am almost certain these are not alpha clothes.
The sizes are smaller. I press them to my nose.
Undeniably omega scent, and not just one.
At least several. What are these clothes doing here?
Former lovers of the Tanners, maybe, or not so former?
The scent is still fresh, not faded. I am convinced it is only a few months old at most.
For now, there is nothing more I can do with them. If Salt were here, he might recognize whether any of them belonged to Senu.
I check the remaining boxes. No clues. Nothing overtly incriminating. I assume that when the police questioned Tanner, he removed anything that could cast suspicion on him. He probably expected his house to be searched.
I wander the attic aimlessly, then decide this is not the right lead.
Just as I consider lifting the hatch and heading down, I hear the sound of a car engine pulling up.
Tanner is back.
Damn it!
He was gone for barely half an hour. Just my luck.
What now?
Climbing down the downspout along the wall would definitely be too loud, and walking across the creaking attic floor might not be a great idea either if I want to stay hidden.
I have to remember that Tanner is an alpha.
That means his hearing is excellent. Even if we were in adjacent rooms, he could hear my breathing or my heartbeat.
I sprayed myself with a pheromone suppressor, but the scent of detergent on my clothes or even a faint trace of sweat could still be noticeable to him.
I press my ear to the hatch in the floor.
Through the vibrations traveling along the walls, I hear the front door slam shut.
When I focus and listen with my eyes closed, I can tell that Tanner is moving around the first floor. The attic is on the third, so one full floor separates us.
I curse silently, irritated by the situation. Damn, I took a risk, and of course bad luck had to bring Tanner home so quickly.
Controlling my breathing, I wait patiently, my ear pressed to the hatch. I hear footsteps. They sound like he is in the kitchen, the noise sharp and hollow, like shoes on tile.
I also hear a slam that could be the refrigerator door closing.
I hear footsteps next, oddly specific ones, as if someone is walking on wooden stairs. He is clearly not coming up, though, because the steps do not get closer. Instead, they grow duller, more muted, as if moving away or downward.
Then I hear a strange sound. It reminds me of some kind of electronic system beeping. What could make a noise like that? A sharp, high-pitched beep, the same sound the entry panel to our unit used to make when I swiped my key card.
But it could be anything, even a ventilation system kicking on, or a battery-backed power strip connected to a computer.
Then there is silence, absolute silence. I hear nothing at all.
Confused, I lie there, unmoving. Maybe ten minutes pass, and then I hear it again, that same beeping sound.
After that, I hear Tanner’s footsteps once more, this time clearly going up the wooden stairs.
And then, finally, the sound I have been waiting for. The front door slams shut, and a moment later I hear an engine start and the sound of a car driving away.
I do not know how much time I have this time, maybe another dozen minutes, but I know I have to go downstairs.
Without hesitation, I open the hatch and carefully look around, searching for cameras, but see none. Fold-down stairs are tucked neatly beneath me. I pull them into place and descend, then fold them back so they hang against the ceiling.
Now, I am standing in the hallway on the second floor of Tanner’s house. I peek into the rooms, but they are almost empty. Single beds, small sofas, a few cabinets and chairs. The place feels bare and impersonal.