Chapter 10
CHAPTER
TEN
Reece
Irun as fast as I can, cursing myself.
I screwed up. So badly.
Go in. Meet Stockton. Show him my invention and get a meeting. Then get out. But when I went to follow him out onto the patio, I’d bumped into Mari and everything spun out of control from there.
How could it not, with her scent seeping into me? Making my head spin and sending warmth curling through me? She looked devastatingly beautiful tonight.
And now it’s nearly ten minutes past midnight and Killian’s truck isn’t here.
Keeping to the shadows, I walk fast, breaking into a run when I’m along the service entrance road to the main road from the estate. I rip off my mask and sprint as hard as I can, but air refuses to fill my lungs.
My brother is the least of my worries. If he beats me back to our room, he’ll just assume I’m having another late night in the shed working on projects, which isn’t uncommon.
What if I run into anyone else while I’m dressed like this? Like an Alpha. What if I’m discovered?
I’m very much not one.
Nerves hammer my insides, worry swirling.
Yet even the fear of discovery drowns beneath the chaos detonating inside my skull. All I can think about is her.
Marigold.
Mari laughing on the swing. Mari looking at me like I matter. Mari melting against me when we dance. The way we fit together.
My chest heaves painfully as I duck behind a line of hedges bordering the long drive. I brace a hand against the stone wall beside me, breathing hard.
I can’t believe I kissed her. Why the hell had I taken such a stupid risk?
It was worth it.
One kiss and the world lit up with a million lanterns. Everything changed.
I changed.
I—
“There you are! Shit, Reece.” Killian’s suddenly there, but when he sees me hunched over, he drops to his knees in front of me. “Hey, kid. You okay?”
Still panting, I nod.
“Good, good. Because we need to move it. People will start to leave the party soon and we need to get you out of sight.” He hauls me up with him. “Xav is parked just down the street. Come on.”
I half-stumble to keep up with him, but when we reach the truck, he jerks the door open and throws me in, only to jump in after me. “Move it, Xav!”
Xavier’s large middle finger rises in the gap between the back seats and the front, but the vehicle revs and takes off.
“Give me the jacket and the mask,” Killian says. “Just in case you bump into anyone when we sneak you back.”
After passing the feather mask over, I shake out of the jacket and hand it to him, too. “Thanks for letting me use them.”
“No problem. As long as it worked,” he says and puts the mask and jacket back into the garment bag. “No one suspected you, right?”
“No.”
Killian and Xavier meet each other’s eyes in the rearview mirror, and some silent conversation passes between them. I don’t even catch Xavier signing anything this time, but Killian still responds like the other man spoke aloud before turning his attention back to me.
“So,” he says carefully, “how did things go with Dominic Stockton? Did he like your idea?”
I’m about to tell him it was a spectacular failure—I never even got the chance to speak to Stockton because I’d followed him onto the patio and somehow ended up running into Mari instead.
But finding Mari there felt like the complete opposite of failing.
Being able to talk to her, dance with her, and not worry about her being an Omega and me a Delta… it was like a dream.
I’ve dreamt of a night like this since I first came to work for the Gardeners and saw her face.
But the mention of Stockton also makes me realize something is horribly wrong. All this time I’ve been talking to Killian and Xavier, and my voice isn’t modified anymore.
My hand flies to my throat.
The box isn’t there.
Ice floods my bloodstream.
“No…” I whisper.
Immediately, I search through the truck seat beside me, running my hands over worn leather in the dark as the truck bumps along the street. My breathing turns sharp and uneven.
Killian glances over at me. “What’s wrong?”
I ignore him and search harder, dropping to my knees in the cramped backseat to check the floor.
No. No, no, no—
Where is it? Where could I have lost it?
When was the last time I had it on?
Killian grabs my arm and pulls me back up. “Reece. What the fuck happened?”
“My invention,” I choke out. “The vibration box. It’s gone.”
Both of the Alphas go still.
I try replaying the night in my head at lightning speed. The estate. The patio. The kiss—
My stomach drops violently. Did it fall off while I was with Mari?
Did she realize it was me?
Panic claws up my throat, but I force myself to think. No, I still had it on then. My voice had been modified when I was with her. She hadn’t recognized me.
So that means I lost it after.
“It must’ve fallen off when I was running from the estate,” I say quickly, more to reassure myself than them. “I definitely had it before then.”
“Shit.” Killian runs a hand through his hair.
“We need to go back,” I say. “Right now.”
“No,” Killian says just as fast. “Absolutely not.”
My eyes widen. “What?”
“There are still hundreds of people at that fucking party.” He points toward the distant estate lights behind us. “If the three of us suddenly start sweeping the grounds looking for something, it’ll look suspicious as hell.”
Xavier nods sharply in agreement.
“Xav and I will go back after we drop you off,” Killian continues. “The cleanup crew will still be around. We can search without drawing attention then.”
My pulse hammers wildly. “This isn’t good…”
“Don’t panic. It may just be in the grass somewhere. But where were you exactly?” Killian asks. “Take us through the night so we know where to start.”
“The back patio first,” I say. “Then farther down. Near the swings.”
Killian nods once like he’s filing it away mentally. “Okay. We’ll check there first.”
Xavier signs something quickly.
I lean hard against the seat, trying not to throw up from anxiety. That invention isn’t just a prototype anymore. It’s proof. Proof that I was impersonating an Alpha, that I’m an imposter.
Not only that, but without it I have nothing to show Mr. Stockton if I ever get another shot at a meeting.
My chance to change my life, to escape this life of servitude, and maybe someday stand beside Mari in a real way could be gone. Poof.
The truck eventually slows as we reach the Gardener estate.
Before I climb out, Killian reaches over the seat and tosses me the garment bag with the tux jacket and mask inside.
Automatically, I say, “I’ll get it cleaned and pressed before I return it.”
Killian snorts and shakes his head. “Nah. You keep it.”
My eyes widen. “What?”
I don’t know if I miss Xavier signing or if he’s doing that weird mind-reading thing he somehow has with Killian, but Killian suddenly looks at him with offended disbelief.
“Yeah, well, fuck you,” he shoots back.
Xavier grins.
“What did he say?” I ask.
Killian glares at him another second before muttering, “He said the tux looks better on you anyway.”
Since I share a room with Derrick—and because there’s no way in hell I can walk in dressed like this—I head straight for the shed instead of the house. The garment bag bumps against my leg as I move quickly through the dark yard.
Tonight was insane. My pulse still hasn’t settled from the party. From Mari. From her mouth on mine.
I unlock the shed door and slip inside fast, shutting it quietly behind me. The familiar scent of oil, metal, and sawdust wraps around me instantly, and my heartbeat starts to settle.
I set the garment bag carefully in the corner behind a stack of old crates before reaching for my tie. My fingers shake while I loosen it. I pull the tie free and tug at the white dress shirt, desperate to get out of this Alpha costume before someone sees me.
A floorboard creaks.
I freeze.
When I look up, I spot Derrick sitting in my chair beside the workbench, one massive arm thrown over the back like he owns the place. His expression is thunderous.
My world tilts.
“What the fuck are you wearing?” he asks.
I stare at him. What is he doing here?
His eyes drag slowly over me, taking in the white pants, the expensive shirt, the tie hanging from my hand. “Jesus Christ. You look ridiculous.”
“It’s not mine.”
“No?” He stands slowly. “Then where’d you get it?”
For some reason, my brain is a bag of mush right now and I can’t seem to come up with a single lie. “It was…given to me.”
Derrick snorts. “Well, whoever owned it before must’ve been bigger than you.” He gestures lazily toward my chest. “Too broad in the shoulders. You’ve always been small. Why on earth would someone give this to you, though? Makes no damn sense.”
I glance down at the shirt. Now that it’s not tucked in, it’s easier to see its bigger size.
“But,” Derrick continues, stepping closer now, “it’d probably fit me just fine.”
Before I can react, he reaches toward the garment bag in the corner.
I grab his wrist immediately. “Don’t.”
Derrick looks down at my hand gripping him. Slowly, his expression darkens. “Excuse me?”
“Just leave it alone.”
For a second, neither of us moves. Then Derrick jerks his arm free, hard enough to shove me backward a step.
“Wearing that making you feel bolder or something? What the hell’s the matter with you?”
I bite down on my temper. “No, not bolder. Just don’t touch my stuff.”
“Your stuff,” he repeats mockingly.
Then his attention shifts past me toward the workbench where the box’s spec drawings lie scattered. Derrick picks one up between two fingers. “What’s all this crap?”
“Don’t touch those either.”
He ignores me completely, flipping through the pages. His brow furrows at the diagrams and notes covering them.
“What the fuck are these even supposed to be?”
I move forward fast and snatch the papers back. “Nothing.”
Derrick’s jaw tightens.
“Please… Don’t,” I warn again quietly. “They’re important.”
His hand lashes out, gripping the front of my shirt. “You getting an attitude with me now?”
He shoves me backward and my hip slams into the side of the lawnmower. Pain sparks across my spine and I stumble.
“I don’t know what this is all about,” Derrick snaps. He sniffs the air suddenly and grimaces. “Is that…cologne?” His eyes narrow. “Where the hell were you tonight? On a date?”
“Where were you?” I shoot back, growing irritated.
Derrick steps closer, crowding into my space. “None of your damn business.”
“Then stop asking me questions if you won’t answer mine.”
“You know what your problem is, Reece?” he says. “You keep forgetting what you are.”
My jaw tightens.
“You keep acting like one day you’re going to wake up and magically become something else. You’re a Delta. You’ll always be a Delta. And nothing—not one of your little inventions or fancy clothes—is going to change that.”
Anger flashes hot in my chest. “Leave me alone.”
Derrick shoves me again, but this time I’m expecting it. I barely move.
That only seems to piss him off more.
“Careful,” he warns between clenched teeth. “I may have promised Mom I’d look after you, but if you screw this up for us, I swear to God I’ll cut you loose. Do you think any of this”—he gestures at my workbench—“matters more than keeping a roof over our heads and food in our stomachs?”
“I never said it did,” I reply through clenched teeth.
“No?” His voice rises. “Then stop acting like this job doesn’t matter!”
“I know—”
“Because I got these jobs for us,” Derrick fires back instantly. “Who got us work at Pen’s place? Who pushed for us to come here because the pay was better? Who’s been making sure we stay afloat all this fucking time?”
I hate when he does this. Because even I can’t deny everything he’s saying is true.
My anger deflates. “I didn’t forget,” I say in an undertone. Defeated.
“Good.” His gaze drags over my clothes again with open disgust. “Because dressing up like some rich Alpha isn’t going to change a damn thing. All it’s going to do is piss off the wrong people.”
Him clearly being one of them.