Page 42 of Omega in Hiding

I meet his displeased gaze. “So we can stop guessing why he left. I mean, even if the shooting at the park spooked him, I’d personally like to know why he thought he had tosneakaway.”

Dario chuffs. “Or maybe you just want to take up where you left off.”

I tamp down my irritation and calmly say, “No, I want to be sure he’s okay. I want to understand why he left, just like I said.”

“There’s no good reason to flee into the night, unless you’ve done something wrong.” Dario crosses his arms. “That must be obvious.”

I frown. “That’s not true. Connor made it clear he hated mob violence. He might have been scared because of what’s happening with the Irish. You don’t know him, Dario, so stop pretending you do.”

“Apparently you didn’t know him either,” Dario grumbles.

I open my mouth to respond, but Alessio interjects, “We don’t know his address, Paolo, but I do have his cell phone number.”

“Great, can I have it?”

Alessio looks to Dario. “What do you think?”

Dario’s jaw has a stubborn tilt. “I think it’s a waste of time calling him. He left for a reason. He could easily have said goodbye to you, Paolo. He could have told you where to reach him. Don’t you see that he purposely did none of those things? He doesn’twantto be found. He doesn’t want you to contact him. If he did, he’d have given you his number.”

I want to argue with him. I want to tell him he knows nothing about Connor. Instead, my heart sinks because he’s right. Connor purposely snuck away. Connor could have given me a way to reach him, but he didn’t. That shows he didn’t want anything else to do with me. He was fine cutting things off coldturkey. While that fact is like a knife through my heart, it’s a truth I should probably accept.

“I’d still feel better if I could talk to him,” I admit quietly. “Just to be sure he’s okay.”

“I don’t understand your concern for him,” grouses Dario. “He obviously didn’t care about you half as much as you do him.”

“Dario, there’s no need to be so harsh,” Alessio says. “I understand why Paolo feels protective of Connor. Connor saved his life. He probably feels he owes him something.”

That isn’t why I want to see and talk to Connor, but if that excuse will get Dario off my back, I’ll take it and run. “Exactly. He saved my life. It’s natural I’d be worried about him too.”

Dario shakes his head but he pulls out his phone. “For the record, I think giving you his number is a mistake.” Despite his words, my phone vibrates as he forward’s Connor’s contact info. “Call him if you want, but I think you should have more pride.”

“Pride shouldn’t stop you from being concerned for a friend.” I cringe inwardly when Alessio shoots me a sympathetic glance. I don’t want his pity, but maybe I deserve it. I say grudgingly, “Thanks for giving me the number.”

Dario merely grunts and Alessio gives me yet another concerned look.

As I leave them, I’m filled with conflicting emotions. Whatever it was I had with Connor, it didn’t seem to mean as much to him. Maybe contacting him isn’t the smart thing to do.

Because, while I don’t want to let go of Connor, hasn’t he already let go of me?

Chapter Eleven

(One month later)

Connor

After leaving Dario and Alessio’s home I’ve been waiting tables at a small café named The Green Leaf. I decided a temporary change of careers was necessary to avoid being tracked down. When hiding from the mob, breaking patterns is essential to staying ahead of them.

Even if leaving my manny position was necessary, I miss being a manny. I miss how much joy my kid’s brought to my life. Just their laughter could lighten my mood instantly. Children are uncomplicated in a way adults aren’t. I was confident in my ability to relate to kids. Adults are way more of a challenge for me.

I’ve waited tables off and on in the past, but I’d forgotten how tiring being a waiter can be. Taking care of kids is exhausting in a different way, but at least it’s rewarding. Serving hangry customers their burgers and fries isn’t nearly as fulfilling. My back and feet hurt, and I have absolutely no energy left at the end of my shift. I don’t remember being this tired at the end of my shifts when I was younger.

“Am I getting old or something?” I mumble, feeling unusually fatigued as I change out of my uniform. I hang the uniform in the locker the restaurant provides for me, and change into jeans and a T-shirt. I frown when I have a little trouble buttoning my jeans. I’m ridiculously bloated lately. Maybe I’m not drinking enough water, or I’m eating too many salty foods?

Once I’m dressed, I leave through the restaurant. The boss doesn’t like the employees leaving from the back door in case we steal stuff. As I near the register, my heart rate picks up when I see a tall, dark haired alpha paying his check. His build reminds me of Paolo’s, and for one second, I think it might be him.

But then the alpha turns around and I see it’s not Paolo. The guy gives me a curious look as I pass. He’s probably wondering why I stared at him so intently. I leave the café, surprised by how disappointed I am that it wasn’t Paolo at the register. I should have been uneasy at the thought of running into Paolo, but all I felt was exhilaration. Logically, I know it’s best that we never see each other again. But I can’t stop fantasizing about reuniting with Paolo one day. I reassure myself that the only reason I’m obsessed with Paolo is because I had no closure with him.

I hate the idea I might have hurt him by leaving the way I did. He was probably confused. I’m sure he assumes I didn’t care about him at all, or that our short time together meant nothing. That couldn’t be further from the truth. I still think about him every day. I get hit on all the time by lonely alphas, but I have no interest in them. I yearn for Paolo. No other alpha can compare. The intensity of our connection still lingers inside of me.

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