Chapter 13: Theodore - Marked By Love

Theodore listened to the alpha’s words. They seemed genuine on the surface, but appearances were deceiving.

Now that he paused to consider the alpha, he noted he was a handsome man. The bitter part of Theodore thought that made him less trustworthy.

“Like I said last night,” Royce said. “I don’t want you to feel like a prisoner here, Doc. I know what I did took away your choice in all this … but just because I haven’t been able to properly scent you doesn’t mean my protectiveness hasn’t kicked into high gear.”

Royce set his bowl down, then ran a hand over his face. “What if, what if I drive you around town? Have you gotten a proper tour of Elk Cove yet? I can take you to the bakery. We could get some groceries to make dinner of your choosing. We could even get lunch out.”

Royce was talking as if the two of them had already bonded, as if they’d known each other for years. Theodore didn’t like that. Just because he smelled good to some alpha’s inner animal didn’t mean they could kidnap him and it would all magically work out through the power of rainbows, pixie dust, and unicorn farts.

However … could Theodore use this offer to his advantage? If he said yes and let the imbecile drive him around like a little prize princess, perhaps he would let his guard down enough for Theodore to escape tonight?

On the other hand, Theodore didn’t want to risk so much exposure in the town. He had to think of a better compromise. Something to placate the alpha that allowed Theodore to remain unseen.

“No,” Theodore said. “I’m tired, and as I mentioned last night, I haven’t been feeling well.”

“Do you need me to call a doctor? My neighbor is a nurse.”

“No!” Theodore almost knocked the oatmeal to the floor in his panic. “No, I’m fine. I-I don’t like hospitals. But, if you’d like, I can make a list of things from the store, for dinner.”

Theodore added in that last part on a whim. Alphas were predictable when they found their mates; they wanted to be the big bad providers. Sending Royce on a side quest would keep the stupid dog happy and entertained. Maybe this new plan was better …

As expected, Royce’s face lit up, and he sat up straighter at the mention of the side quest. Theodore internally rolled his eyes. Escaping this moron might be easier than he’d anticipated.

“I can do that.”

After picking at the oatmeal more, Theodore gave up and got up to go downstairs. It wasn’t that the breakfast was bad, his stomach was now in a constant cramp, and his appetite went from minuscule to nonexistent.

Walking through the alpha’s house, with him hot on Theodore’s heels, it was hard not to feel like an animal in a zoo. It was exposed and uncomfortable. That is until he walked into the kitchen, opened the empty fridge, then the freezer, and his mouth fell open. He was too flabbergasted to be uncomfortable.

“Do you eat anything other than meat?”

Royce grumbled unintelligibly, then said, “I really do know how to cook. Why should I do anything other than the basics when it’s just me?”

Theodore thought if he’d heard anyone else utter that sentence, he would feel bad for them. But since it was an obnoxious bore who’d kidnapped him, Theodore decided he didn’t care. In fact, he was a bit smug at this new discovery.

Perhaps the dog’s simple-minded love of eating animal flesh would drive a large enough wedge between them that he’d leave Theodore the heck alone and not go looking when he bolted.

Then again, perhaps not. Alphas were idiots.

Theodore made a quick list of basic items for soup. He didn’t pay much attention to it; he just wanted the alpha out of the condo so he could skedaddle.

“The bakery is by the grocery store,” Royce said. Of course it was by the grocery store, the whole town could fit on a darn coin. “I know the owner. I can stop by and get you anything you’d like, or request for them to make you something for me to pick up tomorrow.”

“Sure. I like any pastry without eggs or dairy.” Theodore smirked to himself. Most bakeries had zilch in the egg-free, dairy-free department. Those two ingredients tended to be important when making pastries.

His stomach cramps intensified—he needed Royce to get out of here before it got worse. Luckily, the alpha seemed too ecstatic that Theodore was cooperating and asking him for favors to question his motives.

The big buffoon smiled at him, tucked the list away, then paused.

“I really hope we can work through this together,” he said. “I meant it when I said I was sorry for everything that’s happened. But maybe this can be a fresh start? The fates know what they’re doing; we just need to give it a chance and get to know each other. I’ll be back soon, stay safe. Please, stay here, Doc. I’ll be right back.”

With that, the blonde giant disappeared out the door into the garage. Theodore was almost touched by the sincerity of his words. Almost. Words meant nothing. He was just being manipulative to get what he thought was owed to him. Snorting at the closed door, Theodore turned on his heel and moseyed through the condo.

He had to admit, for a bachelor pad it was nice: clean tan carpet, a little tan love seat, the floors were swept, and the dishes were put away. The walls were also tan. Was beige this guy’s favorite color?

Wait, hadn’t Royce mentioned the condo came furnished? Was this the default furniture? Had he never bothered to get his own or try to make this place feel more like his? How odd …

Theodore noted the shelves built into the wall. He’d always liked that in home designs. But these ones were empty save for a handful of books and a few movies. The sofa was bare, no blankets or pillows.

The more Theodore snooped, the less it looked like someone actually lived here. The whole place had the odd, sterile feel of a real estate setup. Soulless and bare.

He went to inspect the sole wall that had photos hung up. Each little black frame contained the same subjects: two adult men, two girls, one boy. The photos depicted picnics, landmarks, pool parties, each with bright smiling faces. Then they just … stopped. The most recent one that Theodore could tell was when the boy was roughly twelve and the girls about nine and seven.

He frowned. Hadn’t Royce mentioned he was orphaned?

A small part of Theodore felt for Royce. Alpha or not, losing your family was no joke. He wanted to hate the guy—he had kidnapped him after all—but it was hard not to notice how empty everything here was.

The rumbling and squeaking sounds of the garage door rolling closed echoed through the condo walls.

Snorting at himself for being ridiculous, Theodore jogged up the stairs and to the room his bags were in. He changed out of the oversized sweats and stuffed his essentials into his backpack and hip bag, pulled them on, then ran downstairs. Getting to the first-floor landing, his knees buckled.

He couldn’t scream, the pain had taken his breath away. All he could do was curl into a ball and tremble. His muscles contracted and seized as his abdomen was torn to shreds.

Then something new happened.

His stomach rolled and retched, rejecting whatever was inside it. Instead of bile or half-digested food coming up, foaming, brilliant crimson ejected itself from his body, again and again.

Panting and spluttering, he forced himself to his feet. Theodore swayed and then collided with the wall as the room spun. Once the room stayed still, he caught his breath and headed to the front door.

Cool, fresh air laced with the scents of fallen leaves and storms filled him. It helped clear his head and settle his stomach. Not that the pain went away; it was a persistent knife twisting in his gut.

He held himself upright and walked down the front steps and onto the street. If he ran, the neighbors would notice his odd behavior. He needed to be as unnoticed as possible right now. That and he was fairly certain running down the stairs was what made him vomit blood in the first place.

Taking deep, purposeful breaths, he headed in the direction of the clinic. A cold sweat broke out across his brow, his shirt soaked and clung to him. Bright spots danced across his vision … he didn’t remember the clinic being so far.

Theodore’s stomach clenched and rolled, he swallowed back a mouthful of blood.

He couldn’t stop. He had to get to the cabin; he had to get that tin to safety.

The world tilted on its axis.

In the distance, a thick line of trees blurred together, then swam. Through the mess of green splotches was a brown blob. Blinking hard, he squinted and forced himself to focus. It was the cabin. He could have cried with relief. His car, his getaway, was within reach as was that blasted tin.

His stomach cramped and churned. This time he couldn’t hold back the crimson vomit.