Chapter 45
He pressed the key and dove into the menu, pulling up a floor plan, guard schedules, and security lock out codes. Thank God the same idiots responsible for the children’s facility handled this building as well—the system was all too familiar.
The sound of the electronic lock on the cell door disengaging was loud and terrifying and glorious. Adrenaline flooding his veins, he bolted out of the cell and took position next to the outer door. With a few more keystrokes, that door lock beeped, and the status light turned green. Muscles tensed, he was ready to defend himself but still prayed no guard would come to check on him. A full minute passed. His luck seemed to be holding.
He opened the door, glanced in both directions, and hurried for the stairs, typing as he went. As soon as he entered the hallway that led to the rear door of the building, he triggered a test of the electric power generator backup. Grinning at the chorus of beeps as locks engaged all along the hall, he sped toward the exit, shielded by the murky dimness of emergency lighting. As he passed the break room, the angry shouts from employees trapped there warmed his heart. Even if just for a few minutes, let them enjoy a tiny taste of what being locked up for no good reason felt like.
Hearing the swift clomp of heavy boots in the connecting hallway, Rafe spun into the deep shadows in the corner, buried his face against the wall, and stopped breathing. Huddled motionless, he thanked God for the dull gray of the hated scrubs.
A guard strode by without noticing, intent on the irate complaints coming over his radio.
Realizing he was shaking, Rafe let out a slow, ragged breath. No time to panic now. He wobbled as he straightened, but caught himself. The hefty dosage of suppressant Grant had injected still had him unsteady. But he could make it. He had to.
He checked his route on the map and ran for the door. With one minute to spare before the power was set to reboot, he pushed through the door out into the parking lot. Almost free!
Keeping his eyes on the alley between the buildings, he schooled himself to walk, not run. No need to stumble in these crappy prison sandals he wore. Almost there. He turned the corner and slid into the deeper shadows cast by the next building. Breathing hard, he peeked around the corner to see if he was being pursued.
Someone whispered behind him, “Rafael!”
Pulse pounding, he knew at once who it was. His whole body vibrated in awareness. But even without the connection between them, Rafe would have recognized his full name spoken in such a silky, come-hither tone.
At the thought of surrendering to an alpha, twenty-eight years of conditioned responses screamed at him to run. But the roaring need surging through him to head straight to Grant and to safety drowned it out in an instant.
Yes, the choice was being forced on him, and yes, he was yielding to genetic imperatives. But if it was biology driving him, it was driving him straight to Grant. The other alphas he’d encountered were meaningless noise, casual flickers of warmth. Grant was a firestorm—the only alpha for Rafe.
All that remained was to discover if Rafe was the only omega for Grant. Because if he wasn’t, Rafe would somehow find the strength to walk away.
With a false air of calm, he took a deep breath and turned to face his alpha. 25
The moment Rafael turned to face him, Grant’s heartbeat faltered at the intense yearning blazing through him. It didn’t matter the heat suppressant had extinguished the enticing cloud of pheromones. Nothing was needed to attract him to his omega. Pulled by invisible bonds, he couldn’t stop himself from moving forward to stand with Rafael.
The closer he came, the more the connection between them sizzled. Grant’s arms reached out all on their own as the flush of desire rose in him, demanding he take possession of the one man meant for him.
But he refused to give in to it. Worried about overwhelming Rafael, he let his arms sink to his sides. After being locked in a jail cell, abducted, sold like livestock, and plunged into heat only to have it abruptly cut off, Rafael needed gentle handling. Coming on too strong might have his skittish omega running for the hills.
Trying for a casual approach, he smiled at the beautiful face and said, “I know you’re capable of taking care of yourself, but are you all right?”
Rafael took a step back, widening the distance between them. With his gaze aimed somewhere around Grant’s chin, he held out the tablet like a barrier between them. “I’m fine. This was all I needed. Thanks.”
Grant flinched like he’d been punched in the gut. All he needed? A sliver of resentment worked its way into his heart. After all Grant had done and risked, was Rafael dismissing him as no longer of use? No, Grant was overreacting. Hadn’t he just reminded himself to handle the man with care?
“I want to hear all about how you got out. But you’re not safe yet. We have to get out of here. Come on.” Longing for skin contact, Grant extended a hand, hoping Rafael would grasp it. Instead the man placed the tablet on Grant’s palm, being careful not to touch. This second sign of rejection hit hard. Rafael was his! Or would be. Had to be.