Page 5 of His Gentle Omega
Giving him a smile, I ruffled his hair. “It’s fine, kiddo.”
“I tucked in a few coloring books and his crayons,” Maria told me, “to help him pass the time.”
“Thank you.” I gave her a side hug, one arm still wrapped around my aching ribs. Between my ribs and the tightness of my chest, drawing in a whole breath was getting harder and harder. And the coughing nearly had me crying out in pain. But I couldn’t let any of it stop me. Adrenaline was keeping me going and upright, and I was thankful for it. “I’ll try to get word to you somehow when we get where we’re going.”
Albert shook his head, “Only if it’s safe. Don’t you worry about us. We’ll be fine.”
My chest tightened with something besides my infernal coughing. I didn’t know how to thank them, these two people who had come to mean so much to both Lucas and I over the years. They were sacrificing so much for us, when I knew they had very little to spare. Edward’s family might be loaded, but they paid their house employees barely above minimum wage. Somehow, I would find a way to pay back their kindness.
Slowly, so slowly because every stepfucking hurt, we made our way down the ridiculously long, winding staircase that would take us to the front door and freedom.
The heavy, ornate double doors were blocked by a huge man, and I stopped short just shy of the last step, holding Lucas safely behind me with one arm. The man’s dark eyes locked with mine. Cold, hard, impenetrable.
He’d been my jailer disguised as my driver. Helping Edward keep me in the pretty prison that had become my life. Reporting back to him every place he drove me, everything he heard or saw.
He was bigger than me, this alpha, even though I wasn’t a small man. My brain was foggy, but the need to protect my son had my adrenaline amped up. It didn’t matter if I needed to go around or through him, I was taking Lucas out of here. Tonight. And no one was going to stop me.
“Marcus…” I growled, low in my scratchy throat, abused from all my coughing and Edward’s fingers.
“Don’t come back here.”
The words were low, quiet, but firm. They took me by complete surprise, not at all what I had expected him to say.
“No matter what pretty words he says to you. No matter how many tears he cries. No matter how sorry he says he is, or that it won’t happen again. Itwillhappen again. He’snotsorry, and he can make those tears come and go at will. Take the boy and don’t look back.”
A look passed between us, an understanding of some kind. This man had been in my shoes. Maybe not mine exactly. Perhaps my son’s. Our gazes locked and I gave a short, quick nod of my head. Swallowing hard, I whispered, “I won’t.”
Because I had believed Edward when he had said he was sorry. When he had cried and begged me not to leave him. When he had sworn he loved me and he would never do it again. I had believed him, over and over and over. Until I hadn’t. Until I couldn’t any longer.
Marcus moved out of the way, opening the door for us.
Letting us go.
Chapter Three
Shay
The headlights of the old truck cut through the blackness of the night, the windshield wipers making a little squeak with each swipe they made across the glass. Lucas sat on the small back seat that barely left any leg room for anyone who wasn’t a child. The backseat was more for storing items and not passengers. But it meant he wasn’t riding up front and was a bit safer.
He hadn’t said a word, but I could see him in the rear-view mirror, his eyes still big, his face too pale.
“Lucas?” His name was a whisper as I turned the wheel with muscle memory, down a street I hadn’t been on in more than ten years. The streets in this part of town were nearly deserted this time of night. Slowly, I rolled the truck to a stop and put it in park, the engine idling. Turning slightly and trying to hide my wince at the pain the movement caused, I looked at my son.
He swallowed, but didn’t say anything, just stared back at me.
“We’re going to be okay. I promise.”
He sniffled, hugging Mr. Rabbit closer to his chest, rubbing his cheek against the stuffed animal’s soft fur. “You were bleeding.”
There was no denying it. There had still been streaks of blood on my face when he crawled out to me. In the past I had tried my best to make sure he didn’t see me bleeding. The few times he had, I had lied and said I had a bloody nose. Not caused by a punch, just a silly bloody nose caused by dry air. Nothing to worry about.
Looking away from him, I nibbled my bottom lip, remembering too late that Edward had split it open. The sting was sharp, and a metallic taste filled my mouth as it started bleeding again. Grabbing a tissue from the box Albert always kept in the middle of the bench seat, I held it against the cut.
My parents had always believed in being pretty straight forward with my brother and me. At least my dad had. My mom passed away when I was seven and Asher was ten. My memories of her had faded with time and age, just a small handful standing out in my mind. Dad had been a great parent, stepping up and raising us both, without losing his shit from grief or the demands of two small children. A fact I hadn’t given him enough credit for, or appreciated fully, until it was too late.
Lucas had seen more tonight than I ever wanted him to, and lying wouldn’t help the situation. But I had promised myself that I would never bad-mouth Edward to our son, and I would keep that promise.
“I was.” My gaze met his, as much as it could. My left eye was nearly swollen all the way shut now and I pressed the tissue to my still bleeding lip. “And, I’m going to have some scabs andbruises for a few days.” Or weeks, whatever. “But I’m okay. My eye might look scary, but it doesn’t even hurt.” Sometimes being a good parent meant you had to lie.
