Chapter 8
CHAPTER
EIGHT
Stephan
“ K ill me now,” I mutter into the finest Sabine Summer Ale.
I’ve been here a handful of days, and apart from the pretty girl in the boathouse, the quaint beauty of Sabine is already under my fucking skin.
I’m a man who’s got it all. Emporia movie star, check. Famous, check. Rich as fuck, check. Pick of the girls, check, check, and check.
Not that anyone at McNally’s bar would care.
For the billionth time, I check my phone, waiting for fucking Heath Gardener to text or call me back. We had caused quiet a stir in college, over on the mainland. But that feels like ages ago. I’m a very different man than I was then. And from the little bit I saw of Heath at the picnic, so is he .
I take another swallow of my drink and listen to the music as it rolls over me. My phone lights up.
Heath
Busy, man. But I’m at the townhouse. Come by.
Booze?
Heath
You know it.
I finish my drink, get up, and leave.
Sabine’s big city is full of parks and old buildings. Once you get out of the lower end and the business and shopping districts, then it turns into a pretty, leafy neighborhood, close to the biggest park and the glittering Council building that’s like a fucking castle.
When I reach Heath’s place, I go through the high front gate and past the small, private garden, a place of memories from college when we’d occasionally have it to ourselves while his family was away visiting the mainland.
He’s sitting outside, glass of whiskey, his preferred drink, in one hand.
“Gardener,” I say.
“Famous asshole.”
I grin. “Only my friends get to call me that.”
“Dickwad?”
“Mr. Ashford to you, Gardener.”
I throw myself onto the chair opposite him. The garden hasn’t changed much, perhaps not as well-kept as I remember, but I prefer rougher edges to crisp manicured foliage. It gives the impression that wilderness might burst free at any moment.
There’s a bottle on the green-painted ironwork table between us, and I sigh. “That bad?”
“Not great,” he says. The muscle in his jaw works, and I know Heath well enough to know he’ll talk when he wants and not before. He’s a stubborn Alpha.
I pour myself a shot into the glass he thoughtfully provided for me. “No luck prowling the streets of Sabine for a mate?”
His eyes cut to me. “Fuck no. I don’t have time for that.
“Not even sex?”
“Unfortunately, no.”
Of course, he stepped up when his father died. Maybe the rumors I’ve heard of money issues have some merit. I’m almost afraid to ask.
“I have a family I need to take care of, Stephan.” He shakes his head, then refills his drink as he brings his long legs in and leans forward. “Five sisters. Can you even fathom that? Five pretty Omegas to find proper mates for, who will look after them and not use and abuse them. I can’t let Mom handle all that.” He stands. “We should take this inside.”
Heath picks up the bottle, and I follow him inside. The Gardener home has always had a mix of scents to it, such as beeswax and lemon and fresh flowers. What you imagine Spring to smell like. But this time, the floral scents are more overpowering than I remember, fogging my senses.
I must be too used to the blockers people wear to hide and dull their own scents in Emporia.
This is much nicer, more…evocative.
We head down the hall and into his father’s meeting room, where deals were done, important business guests entertained. But I know what it is. A private gaming room. Where high stakes poker and other card games were played. The dark woods and gold and claret décor are like most gentlemen’s clubs, a step back to another time.
This one’s small, and the bar’s well-stocked. Heath puts on some post-grunge music as I go to haunt the bar.
“This whole island is full of double standards.” I pour a healthy bourbon.
“It’s the same everywhere, Ashford. Don’t pretend it isn’t.”
“But all these rules. The strict hierarchy… It’s crap.”
“The hierarchy is part of us. It’s part of our core nature.”
I glare at him and down half my drink. “It shouldn’t restrict you on who you can mate with. Sure, things tend to fall into Alpha and Omega, but if a Beta falls for a Delta or an Omega or even an Alpha, then whatever. But here… Jesus.”
“I don’t make the rules, Stephan. Besides, if you hate it so much here, why did you come back?”
“Would you believe it if I said I missed our small talk?”
He huffs out what could be a laugh. “I’d believe it more if you said it was my liquor cabinet.”
I raise my glass in a toast to that.
“It doesn’t matter what I think about it. It’s the way it is here. My sisters…” He stops, shakes his head.
That’s the problem with this fucking microworld of Sabine. Rich and powerful and full of old money, old ways. It’s the headquarters of the Council. And they make sure Omega girls are brought up to be innocent. A whole bunch of virgins who pant for babies and the right mate as if that’s their whole world. The answer to everything.
They don’t have life experience. They probably don’t even know what a dick is.
“You’re playing into the system,” I say.
He slams his glass on the bar. “Don’t you think I know that? I get the double standards, the pressures on people to play the part, but my father left us broke, Stephan, and the only hope now is to play by society’s rulebook. Keep my sisters sweet, pristine, and all that shit…” He shakes his head wearily. “And now Violet’s not only making her debut, but the Monarch has picked her as her Luxe Omega.”
“No shit, really?” Maybe I need to meet this sister…this Violet everyone keeps talking about. The battle-ax doesn’t pick just anyone to be her Luxe. This Omega must be special.
“This can be her chance to make the perfect match. For all of us,” he says.
“That’s a lot of pressure to put on your sister.”
He groans and rolls his eyes to the ceiling. “I know. And she knows. She’s ready for the responsibility, but she doesn’t like being the center of attention.”
The Luxe will definitely be that. Once word gets out, Stitch is going to explode.
The door clicks and partly opens. A girl’s head pops in but she gasps, surprised to see us in the room, and quickly shuts it again.
I wasn’t able to get a clear look at her, but her scent wafts in, filling my nostrils with a faint clean and floral scent .
That scent. The same flowery one that haunted my memory since the boathouse.
But how…?
Heath’s eyes cut to the door. “Sorry—my sister was about to barge in.” Then he raises his voice. “Whose ears must be burning.”
The mythical Luxe sister? Violet? Maybe that’s what I smell…but a violet is an old lady flower, isn’t it? Like…mothballs.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. There’s no fucking way Heath’s sister is my little Cinderella Omega.
“That was her?” I start to turn, not sure what I’m going to say. “Gardener?—”
“My sisters are nosey.”
My mouth has gone dry from the shock, and all I can think about is the beautiful dancer with the perfect manners and sharp tongue. I’ve been carrying her ribbon in my pocket since that night, had even visited the dancing studio she’d talked about and the boathouse where we’d met at dusk, hoping to catch another glimpse of her. But she’s stayed away.
Just the thought of her being here—so close—makes my heart skip.
“Maybe we should let her in,” I say. “It might be something important.”
But Heath shakes his head adamantly. “If it were urgent, she wouldn’t be the only one storming in here. Believe me. And besides, I’d like to keep you away from my sisters for as long as possible.”
“Ouch, Gardener.” I sit on one of the chairs at the gleaming black gaming table. “What’s wrong with me? ”
He tops up my drink, then sits. “What’s right? You’re Emporia elite, you drink too much, take too many drugs, fuck too many women, and make shitty movies.”
“Movies that women like.” I don’t disagree about them being on the cheesy side, mostly rom-coms and feel-good types about finding love and being true to oneself. Soppy bullshit, really. “And stop reading social media.”
“Keep away from my sisters.”
“I don’t want your sisters. Any of them.” Then I pause. “I do owe your little sis—Rue?—an apology, though. I’ll send some signed pics.”
“Her favorite star isn’t you, dickwad. It’s Trixi Belle.”
“That hack? She can’t even sing.”
He stares at me.
I sigh. “I’ll get Rue some signed merch from her, then.” Honestly, kids these days have no taste.
“Wait, why do you owe her an apology? She’s fourteen .”
I’ll have to punch him if he pulls big angry brother on me, but as I eye his slowly curling fist, I say, “She followed me to bombard me with questions at the fucking picnic. I didn’t know who she was, but I was…me.”
“An asshole.”
“Yeah.” I rub the back of my neck. “So how bad are things, Heath? Do you want money?”
“For my sister?”
“No, shithead, to help with the debts your father left.”
He sighs. “I can’t just show up with debts magically paid.”
“Why not?” I shrug. “I can afford whatever it is.”
“Because you’re my friend. And if and when it comes out, my sisters will suffer. I can’t even sell off land or property.”
“I fucking hate this place,” I grumble. “What if your sister catches the eye of one of the fat older fucks?”
Heath’s jaw works hard. “I’m not letting a disgusting, abusive man touch her.”
“Even if he’s rich?”
He balks at that. “What do you think I’m trying to do? Prostitute her out? No, Violet deserves security. Love. Happiness. Probably more than any of us. When Dad died, Mom was a mess. Couldn’t function. Vi stepped up and ran the household, kept us all together. I just…”
He stops, and I see the torment in his gaze. This has been weighing on him for some time. I may not have the close family the Gardeners have, but it’s clear Heath loves his sister. He wants what’s best for her and the rest of them. The stress of it all is hardening him.
“You know, if you want to keep your family out of the rumor mill, you can’t go to the places these Alphas tend to haunt. But I can.” He’s about to protest, but I stop him. “I’ll help. Listen at doors. Gather information. Make a list of the best possible mates for her.”
He frowns. “I’m not asking you to do that.”
“I’m offering, Gardener. And they’ll talk around me, reveal themselves in a way they wouldn’t during the social events. Besides, I’ve got nothing to do for the summer but read scripts and fuck around. Save me from more boredom by letting me help you. I’ll let you know who to steer Violet away from.”
“I don’t know…” His gaze narrows on me. “Why are yo u back on Sabine? I didn’t think after what happened with CeeCee you’d ever show up here again.”
The mention of Cecilia’s nickname is like a punch to the gut. But I try to act unbothered.
“Co-star trouble. I’m attempting to keep my nose clean until it blows over and try not to be bored.” I explain the Felicity issue. “So if you need help, I’ll even come to the damn ball and mingle with the Alphas…”
His jaw tightens. Fuck, the local girls must be dropping their panties and their well-bred morals to bag him. And I’m betting he doesn’t even notice. Too much in his head to see what’s in front of him.
Goodlooking, stoic bastard.
We made quite the team in picking up pussy.
“You’ll be busy wrangling those sisters,” I say, even though I know my true motives are to get a glimpse of Violet again for myself. Maybe talk to her. Just one more time.
He stares at me a moment. “Fine. Let me know who to ban from courting my sister and who’ll work best. Besides, it’s not like I can stop you.”
“Nope.” Then I lean back in my chair and grin. “Now, let me tell you about the pussy you keep missing by not visiting me…”