Chapter 12
Vincent
Charles had already proven how well he followed orders. By the time I finished tying my shoes, he was standing at the front door, shoes on, posture composed with his head bowed.
I didn’t need to see his eyes to know they were on me. He’d been watching me since the moment I stepped into that room yesterday.
Not out of fear or calculation. He was learning me to not just please me, but to anticipate every need I’d have. And that kind of attention was rare. Rare and dangerous, if I wasn’t careful with it.
I knew Alphas who took that power to heart, twisting it to their own twisted needs and wants without a care in the world.
I didn’t speak right away. Instead, I simply stepped aside, letting the Omega pass through the doorway first.
Then, without looking back, I said, “Keys.” No explanation. No direction. Just the word. And within seconds, Charlie was moving without hesitating. He crossed the room, retrieved the keys from the dish near the entryway, and placed them in my hand.
I didn’t smile, I noted the timing and instinct that Charles didn’t just follow my order, but he knew what I’d want, or at last had an idea of what to expect from me.
Once in the car, Charles in the passenger seat, I backed up from the driveway before driving down road towards town.
Unlike the last time the boy was in that seat, he was aware of his surroundings. His eyes watched at the scenery passing us by, as though he’d never seen any of it before. For all I knew, he hadn’t.
The car was quiet. Not silent, just filled with the kind of stillness that didn’t need to be filled.
I drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting loosely on my thigh. My posture was relaxed.
Charles didn’t fidget or speak, but he was still aware of me. Every time I shifted just a bit, his eyes flickered my way before returning to the window.
He was watching everything. The way I checked the mirrors, the way I adjusted the temperature, the way I tapped the steering wheel once before turning.
I glanced over briefly. “You always this quiet?”
His gaze flicked toward me, then back to the windshield, hands twisting in his lap.
“I was taught to be.”
“Not a bad skill,” I said. “But you are welcome to talk, to ask questions.”
“Yes, Sir.” Charles licked his lips, but didn’t go on. His shoulders relaxed a little.
There were so many things I wanted to ask him, to know things that I probably shouldn’t want to know just yet. Which is why I didn’t. I kept my words locked up, letting them simmer to be spoken when I had a better chance of getting more than one or two word reply.
The rest of the car ride was quiet, except for the low music that sounded through the speakers.
At the store, Charles waited in the car while I rounded it, opening the door for him. Then, he stayed two steps behind me as the automatic doors slid open with a soft hiss, and the cool blast of air-conditioning hit both of us.
Charles hesitated at the threshold just enough that I noticed the slight pause in his step.
Inside, the store was bright. Loud. Too many colors. Too many choices. It was sure to be overwhelming.
I walked ahead, calm and composed with Charles behind, eyes taking in everything with curiosity and caution. He didn’t touch anything, nor did he speak.
I reached for a basket and handed it to him without comment, which he took with both hands, holding it like it might be part of a test.
I didn’t correct him, nor did I guide him.
Mostly, the basket gave him something to shield himself with from the items that he most likely had no clue what to do with.
And as we walked through the aisles, I kept one eye on the list in my phone—milk, bread, things for dinner—and the other on Charles.
I noticed how he flinched slightly when someone brushed past. I noticed how he stood too straight, too still, like he was bracing for correction.
I slowed, letting Charles match it step for step. The Omega was scared, and rightfully so. But really, he was doing better than I expected, even with the lingering fragments of subspace.
When we reached the produce section, I handed him a bag and pointed to the apples. “Pick a few.”
He looked at me, uncertainly.
“Any kind,” I added kindly. “Your choice.”
Charles blinked. Then turned to the fruit. And for the first time since we entered the store, he moved without waiting for permission. Maybe giving him tasks helped, I thought.
“Potatoes. How ever many you think we’ll need for the stew.” I said, handing him another bag once the apples were placed in the basket.
“Do…do you like red or brown ones best, Sir?”
Assuming that the Lockswell House went on the cheaper side, I answered, “Brown.” I enjoyed both, but I wasn’t the one cooking the stew today.
Charles nodded putting a good amount of the brown potatoes into a bag.
“What else do we need for the stew?” I knew, or could look it up on my phone, but I wanted to hear his voice. I wanted to show him that it was okay to talk without fearing of being hit.
“Carrots, the canned ones. And corn, peas, and then stew meat.”
“Alright.” I turned, knowing that he’d follow.
Thankfully, the few people that knew me wisely kept their distance. I wasn’t up to explaining why I had an Omega at my side.
It didn’t take long to grab what we needed. Then, I led Charls to a checkout line, where the one checker took ten times longer to get through each customer.
I stood beside him, basket in hand, posture relaxed. Charles kept his eyes low, hands folded neatly in front of him. He didn’t fidget, didn’t speak. Just waited.
The cashier was young, distracted, chatting with another customer as she scanned items.
When it was our turn, I stepped forward, placing the basket on the counter. Charles stayed half a step behind, still watching. Still taking in everything around him and my movements at the same time.
Then—
“Love your shirt,” the cashier said, glancing at the Omega with a quick smile. It was a simple one, black with a ghost on the front with some silly saying. It definitely was something Adrian would have picked out.
Charles blinked. Then, once the words processed, he nodded once, unsure if he was supposed to respond.
I didn’t say anything. But I noticed the way his fingers curled slightly into a fist, like he was holding onto something he didn’t quite understand.
I let the moment pass without comment. Because sometimes, the smallest kindnesses were the ones that lingered longest
***
I left Charles in the kitchen, putting together the stew. I almost didn’t want him out of my sight, but after the morning so far, I thought it’d be best to give him space.
Space to think and take in everything and how different it all was.
I knew a little about how the Lockswell House was ran, and how the Omegas were schooled to become so well behaved. Not enough by any shot, but a little bit to go off.
I wasn’t a fan, and still wasn’t.
I didn’t want a robot as a partner. Nor did I want an Omega who feared my every move.
Charles was a mix between those two. He was better than he had been hours ago, and I knew it’d take time to get him to realize that the world was a safe place to explore. Especially with me by his side.
I’d never let anyone hurt him if I had the power to do so.
Keeping an ear out towards the kitchen, I made a note that Charles hardly made a single sound as he cooked up the pork meat. I could only hear the sizzle of the pan.
Were all Omegas taught to be this quiet? To swallow their thoughts before they ever reached the surface?
I’d only known two from that place, and they couldn’t have been more different.
Adrian kept his mind open, always asking and talking when he felt the need to. He knew how to play the game, and worked it to his advantage.
Charles wasn’t like that. His silence didn’t feel strategic. It felt conditioned. Like someone had taught him that speaking came with consequences.
And now, even when he had space to breathe, he didn’t seem sure he was allowed to fill it.
It’d take time to show him that it was okay. That it was okay to breathe and become something that wasn’t a part of Lockswell House.