Excusing himself to find a restroom was as much for bladder relief as it was to give Jax some room to breathe. Being so close to Karter, hearing so many declarations of loyalty and devotion—the kinds of promises he’d never heard from Eroch—had gone straight to Jax’s heart. He burned with affection for Karter, and their bond only strengthened the more time they spent together.

Seeing Karter flawlessly make a bottle, and then hold Son in his lap?

Done for. Dead. Jax wanted Karter to be his alpha and his mate, which was a ridiculous reaction to a man he’d known half a day. But the mating bond knew before the heart and mind did, and Jax trusted his instincts. Karter was his alpha, and Jax could go into heat any time.

He walked down the busy corridor with that thought hanging over his head, watching for the tell-tale symbol on the door. His pre-heat symptoms weren’t showing yet, so it wasn’t as if he’d fall into heat in the middle of the hallway, but he’d heard once that a young, unmated omega’s first heat could be triggered by his bondmate.

What if being close to Karter triggered his heat? He barely knew Karter, and he wasn’t mentally prepared to mate the man yet. What if Karter was the kind of alpha who’d refuse to wear a condom while knotting him? What if he mated Jax before he was ready? Eroch had done that, mating him their first heat together, not even giving Jax a choice. Alphas usually didn’t. They took what they wanted, including widowed omegins, and did what they want with them.

That’s not Karter.

He had to believe that.

His bladder was kicking hard when he finally found the bathroom. Someone was at the first of three urinals, so Jax moved to the third out of habit. He also kept half an eye on his companion while he did his business, trusting no one right now beyond a scant handful of people. Probably should have used the single stall. Then he could have sat and thought for a few minutes. Get his head together.

The other man washed his hands and left, so Jax stood at the urinal a moment, trying to figure out how his life had flipped so completely in one morning. He’d woken up buried in their nest, cozily warm and sharing body heat with Son. He’d warmed the last of the fresh water under his armpit, before making a bottle and feeding his boy. Helped himself to a few cookies from the pack he’d stolen the day before. And he’d been dozing again when he’d first heard, then scented the alpha outside his window.

Now, he was in a warm building, in clean clothes, with food and a proper diaper bag for Son, and he’d met his bondmate.

How is this my life now?

He was still facing burglary charges, but Karter and Braun both seemed confident this Ronin Cross fellow could help him, so Jax took confidence from them.

Had Jax really escaped two different hells—the fighting and then the streets—only to find the perfect life with a bondmate and instant friends?

He pinched himself just in case.

Karter would worry if he dawdled too long, so Jax washed up and reached for the door. It opened as he put his hand on the knob, and he jumped back so he didn’t get hit in the face. A beta constable stepped in wearing a stern expression, but he gave Jax very little notice. Jax waited until he’d passed before going into the hall.

As he walked back to the break room, the sensation of being watched crept over his skin. Not simply an interested or curious look, but attentive and direct. He glanced over his shoulder. No one lingering in the corridor was looking at him. He didn’t brush off the feeling though.

It left him unsettled when he returned to a smiling Karter and squealing baby laughter. Karter was teasing Son with a rattle, and the boy was delighted by the noise it made. Jax was once again struck by how perfect Karter looked, sitting there and holding Son. Son who needed a proper name, damn it.

When Karter looked up, Jax made a telephone gesture with one hand.

“No, no one’s called yet,” Karter replied. “Hopefully soon.”

Son seemed content where he was, and even though Jax’s fingers itched to hold him, he explored the break room a little. It was nice to move openly in the world again, instead of hiding all the time. There was nothing particularly interesting to inspect, so he went about fixing a fresh pot of coffee. The current dregs smelled like they could take paint off walls.

“Do you drink coffee?” Karter asked.

Jax shook his head no. He’d never been fond of it, even though Eroch liked several cups each morning, and Jax always had a thermos of it ready for him to take to work. Grief slammed into him out of nowhere, and Jax gasped. He gripped the side of the counter so he didn’t fall over from the force of it.

“Jax?”

Karter was there a second later, Son cradled to his chest in one arm, his free hand reaching out to squeeze Jax’s forearm. Jax breathed in and out a few times, trying to collect himself so he didn’t start sobbing all over Karter. Jax and Eroch hadn’t been bondmates, but they’d been a couple for six years. They’d had routines and rituals, and they’d had a good life that was stolen away by a tragic accident.

That life was long-gone, sold away to pay debts, because they hadn’t owned their home. Jax was an omegin with nothing except an infant child, a diaper bag, and the clothes on his back. And two out of three were gifts from generous people. What on earth did he have to offer Karter?

A well-kept home, tasty dinners, and unconditional support. Maybe later, even love.

Anything was better than the streets.

Jax angled his body toward Karter and let go of the counter. He looped his arms loosely around Karter’s waist, mindful of Son, and hugged him. Karter did his best with one arm, keeping a steady pressure across Jax’s back. Jax rested his chin on Karter’s shoulder and breathed the man in, soaking in his spring grass scent and intense body heat.

The man was a human furnace.

Why am I so comfortable with you after only a few hours? Why do I trust you so implicitly when I barely know you?

“Damn, Jenks, you found yourself a mountain man,” a stranger’s voice said.

Jax jumped and tried to pull away. Karter let him go, then turned and scowled at the newcomer. The constable from the bathroom. “Fuck you, Heely, I found my omega,” Karter snapped.

Heely’s eyebrows dipped. “Seriously? That’s an omega?”

Karter growled; Heely put his hands up in a gesture of surrender. Then he seemed to see the tiny person Karter was holding. “Shit, man, he’s already an omegin? That sucks.”

Jax suddenly found Son in his arms and Karter across the room bullying Heely into the wall. He couldn’t exactly hear the words Karter said, his voice pitched too low, but he caught the threat in them. Karter’s instant defense of him made Jax smile. He adjusted Son against his chest and gave the men their space. Whoever this Heely was, he was brave to talk back to an alpha like that.

Whatever words were exchanged, Heely beat it out of the break room. Jax watched Karter, uneasy with the anger permeating the room. Karter took a moment to pull himself together before he turned around. “He won’t disrespect you again.”

Jax nodded his understanding. Son started to cry, so Jax changed his position to the one he seemed to prefer—nestled inside the fabric sling. He settled again after that, content to be cradled close to his omegin’s chest. Then Jax snatched up paper and pencil.

“It doesn’t bother me. People, especially alphas, will see me as sloppy seconds no matter what I say or do.”

“I don’t see you that way. At all.”

“I know you don’t. That’s why I trust you. You see me and my son as people first, our genders and statuses second.”

“Or not at all. I don’t care that you were mated once before, and while I do care what those alphas did to you, it doesn’t color how I see you. No, wait, yes it does. It makes you even stronger than I previously thought, because you endured. And you’re here with me, where you always should have been.”

Jax melted at those perfectly chosen words.

“Maybe not always, because I wouldn’t trade in Son for anything in the world.”

“I get it. And you know what I mean, right?” Nod-blink. “Good. Come on, let’s sit again. I’ve never been basically ordered to relax while still on-shift, so I want to take advantage.”

Jax wheezed his personal laughter and followed Karter back to the couch to wait.

* * *

Two hours passed before Karter’s phone rang. “Jenks,” he said.

“We found the house,” Bloom replied. “Or rather both houses. Two of them, side-by-side, with a door installed between them down in the basements. They left in a hurry and tried to clean up, but we found what must have been the fight room, because black-light showed signs of blood. That DNA guy is down here trying to find any samples he can for the new system we have.”

A DNA specialist from another province named Jin Moran had been working with their forensics unit to set up their own DNA processing system, finally bringing Sansbury into modern times like their neighboring provinces. They were in that middle ground between training and preparing to use the tech on real cases.

“There aren’t many neighbors to speak of,” Bloom continued, “but we’re talking to anyone we can. I wish I had more to report, I just didn’t want you waiting much longer for an update.”

“I appreciate that, thank you. Any information you can share is greatly appreciated.”

“Gotta go.”

Karter closed his phone, then reported what little he knew to Jax.

“Do you think your DNA expert will find anything?”

“I hope so. Smart criminals would bug out fast, then watch the old location for police activity, possibly to go in again and do a more thorough cleaning. Do you think the men who kept you were that smart?”

“Possibly. They certainly had their routines down, and we moved three times while I was with them. We hadn’t been at this location very long before I went into labor.”

Karter remembered that from Jax’s statement. “Well, let’s hope they fucked up somehow so we can find them.”

Jax nodded his agreement, then stood from the couch and stretched his arms above his head. The hem of his thermal shirt rose, showing off a pale line of soft belly, and Karter stared. He couldn’t help it. Jax didn’t seem aware of what he was doing, and Karter really shouldn’t perv on the guy. Not at work, not while they were stuck in this particular situation.

Jax stood there a beat, staring at the refrigerator, and it occurred to Karter. “Are you hungry again?”

With a shy smile, Jax nod-blinked.

“Don’t be embarrassed about that. I imagine you ate what you could, when you could, and you were more concerned with your son’s food intake than your own.”

Nod-blink.

“There are plenty of places that deliver here on a regular basis.” Karter grabbed the stack of menus they kept on the counter. “What’s your pleasure?”

Jax rifled through the menus, checking food items, before settling on a piled-high sandwich from a nearby deli. Karter hadn’t shared the pizza earlier, and it was inching into mid-afternoon, so he ordered something for himself, with two sodas and chocolate cookies for dessert. Karter wanted to take Jax out to a proper restaurant, but as he watched Jax fuss with the sling, a horrifying thought hit Karter.

The men who watched the omegas fight and then paid to rape the loser could be anyone. Anywhere, at any time, they could recognize Jax, and then his life would be in danger. Jax could identify four of the men involved in the fighting ring: the two alphas in charge, the doctor, and the alpha who’d bought Jax twice.

The latter was the man Karter wanted ten minutes alone with in an empty room, so he could beat the man’s ass into the ground. Maybe pull all his finger and toenails off, for good measure. Anything to avenge his omega’s suffering.

Imagining vengeance didn’t solve their immediate problem though: Jax was a target. If he was recognized by the wrong person, word could get back to the ring leaders, and they could go after Jax to silence him.

“Question,” Karter said. “Did you have the beard and long hair before you escaped?”

“No, we were groomed. Too much hair made it too easy to grab. On my own I had no way to shave, and it kept my face warm.”

Karter withheld a growl over the reminder that his omega had lived on the streets for a month in the early weeks of winter. If Jax hadn’t squatted in that house, he and Son could have died from exposure.

“For now, don’t shave or cut your hair.” Off Jax’s curious look, he explained. “Other than the one alpha rapist you can identify, we don’t know who else watched those fights. We can’t chance someone recognizing you, and that beard is a fantastic disguise. And with your bulk, you won’t read as omega from a distance. Someone would have to be close enough to scent you before they’d do a double-take.”

“Those men know I have muscles.”

“So do thousands of other men in this province. Like I said, you’re big and it’s rare for an omega to have a beard. Less unusual for an alpha.”

“You think I should try to pass as an alpha? Isn’t that illegal?”

Karter chuckled. “No, it isn’t illegal. People can’t help their body shape. You happened to be born a tall omega, and you were forced to develop muscles. We need to use every advantage we have to keep you safe. I will keep you safe.”

“I know. Being identified sort of occurred to me while I was in the bathroom, but I thought I’d be safe here, among the authorities.”

“You should be safe, but that doesn’t mean you are. We can’t be completely sure that someone within the constabulary isn’t working with these different sex trafficking rings, or if they aren’t all connected. Ever since we busted Lawry’s halfway house, it feels like we’ve shined a light into a dark room, and now the cockroaches are scurrying for safety.”

Sitting around waiting for word was also starting to get to Karter. As much as he enjoyed simply spending time with his omega, he needed to do something. “How would you feel about going over some mugshot books while we wait for our food? Maybe you’ll recognize someone.”

Nod-blink.

The large office where constables wrote and read reports should be safe enough in the middle of the day, so Karter led his charges down the corridor to the stairs, and then up one floor. Got Jax settled in a chair by Karter’s desk. Heads turned in their direction but no one interfered or asked questions. A large bookshelf in the rear of the room housed the books, and Karter selected the most recently updated one for Jax to look through.

Jax opened the cover, revealing the first set of nine photos, each one labeled with the suspect’s name, date of arrest, and preliminary charges. If the case went before a judge and the suspect was convicted, that information was also added.

Karter reached for the two message slips in his inbox, then jumped when Jax jerked out of his chair so fast it fell over backward with a loud clang. Jax had gone white, and Karter reached for his arm to steady him. The sudden movement had Son awake and wailing his discomfort. Jax lifted Son out of the sling and held him near his throat, soothing as best he could.

“Jax, what happened? Are you okay?”

Jax shook his head no, shaggy hair flying around his face. He was still pale, though, so Karter watched him closely until Son settled. The sound of a baby crying had a few people poking their heads into the office, but no one asked questions.

“What happened?” Karter repeated.

Jax hesitated, his eyes full of fear and shock, so Karter studied the mugshots. Two of the men were his arrests, the other seven weren’t. But one face in particular, somehow both angry and smug, made Karter’s gut twist.

“You recognize one of these men?”

Nod-blink.

“Can you point to him?”

Jax cringed, as if the idea of getting too close to the picture was making him ill.

“Please, Jax.”

Instead, Jax held up three fingers, then gestured at the book.

“The third photo?”

Nod-blink.

Karter’s stomach cramped. The third photo was of Senior Haus Iverson, whose first arrest had been assault, only for a slew of others to rain down on him pending a formal investigation into not only his business dealings, but also his participation in the systematic rape and torture of his son’s omegin, Kell Iverson. The entire case involving Kell made Karter want to be violently ill.

Senior Iverson had touched Jax, too?

Karter snarled. Iverson wasn’t stupid enough to actively participate in the creation of the fights, but the man’s personality and wealth suggested he’d watch such a horrific thing as pregnant omegas beating each other senseless.

“He’s the one who bought you, isn’t he?”

Jax’s eyes filled with tears as he nodded. Karter went to him, grateful Jax didn’t flinch or pull away. He allowed Karter to hug him and Son, to soothe his trembling, upset omega. “It’s okay, he can’t hurt you anymore. He’s in jail, waiting on multiple trial dates. He’s locked up, Jax, he can’t hurt either of you.”

Hearing the man wasn’t roaming the streets must have helped, because Jax calmed quickly. His eyes were clearer when he looked up, determined now, instead of afraid. He mouthed something several times before Karter understood, “For what?”

“I can tell you what’s a matter of public record, but we still have multiple active investigations going on. Right now, he’s facing dozens of counts of physical assault, several of rape and incest, as well as having possibly brokered the unlawful sale of an infant.”

Jax’s eyes bugged out. His silent, “fuck,” was quite clear.

“He’s an evil bastard, just like his son was. But Senior Iverson will pay for his crimes. Can you wait here for a minute? I need to go get your statement forms. Your identification has to be part of your formal statement.”

Nod-blink.

“I’ll be right back.”

Jax watched Karter leave, relieved to have a few moments alone to center himself. When Karter asked him to review mugshots, Jax had agreed so he’d have something to keep him busy. He’d never once imagined he would open the front cover of the first book and see one of the men from his nightmares. The man who’d used him after Jax’s body was already brutalized from the fight he’d lost.

The man who berated him for his tears, his cries of pain, and his weakness for losing. Jax took small consolation in knowing the vile creature had never knotted him—an alpha could only produce a knot when an omega was in heat, and heat was impossible when Jax was already pregnant.

Not that he didn’t have to worry about his heat now that he’d given birth. But heat was a small matter right now.

He kept his distance from the mugshots, not wanting to taint his child with that man’s image, even if Son’s vision wasn’t developed enough at six weeks to focus on a photograph. Son wiggled in his arms, so Jax pulled him away from his chest and studied that scrunched, unhappy face.

He’s probably reacting to your negative energy.

Jax tried to focus on something else, anything else, so he made a funny face and blew a raspberry. Son flashed a bright smile and gurgled. This. This is what his life was all about now, not the past. Not a man locked up and unable to hurt him again. His son, who still deserved a proper name, was the most important thing in Jax’s life.

With Karter Jenks pulling in a close second.

He sat in a chair by another desk and scanned the various folders and notes on it. Bloom’s name was on a couple of phone message notifications. Jax wasn’t sure if he’d get in trouble for reading another constable’s messages, so Jax looked away—but not before catching his own name on the tab of a green folder. This was probably a bad idea, but Jax couldn’t stop himself from shifting son to one arm, then thumbing open the folder with his free hand.

Dates and information about Eroch’s death and Jax’s transfer to the halfway house. Another date, this one a solid month after Jax was sold, stating he’d been selected by another alpha as his mate and his extended family had been informed. Jax’s gut cramped. Simple, documented lies had helped Jax disappear from the world, and it hurt that his family hadn’t appeared to have reached out. Surely, if they’d tried to contact his “new alpha” and failed, they would have reported it to the Sansbury constabulary….right?

Below that was a notation that the personal information of the so-called alpha he’d mated to was linked to an elderly omegin on the far side of the territory. Fake, in other words.

“Jax?”

He snatched his hand from the folder, but Karter was already walking toward him. “Snooping?”

Jax winced.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell.” He picked up the folder Jax had been reading and scanned the contents. “Fuck. Well, this definitely answers some of our burning questions about our official records on you.”

No shit.

Karter sat in another desk chair and handed over the official forms. “I just need you to detail your discovery of the mugshot, describe the image as best you can remember, and if you can add more details of what he did to you, that will be incredibly helpful in preparing new charges against him.”

Jax picked up a pen, uncomfortable doing this, but understanding why it was necessary. He did flip the form over, though, because he didn’t see anything else to write on.

“Will I have to identify him from a lineup?”

“Yes, that’s standard procedure when someone is first identified from a photograph. I know it’s going to be painful to see him again, but it’s another step toward this man serving life in prison for his crimes.”

The anger and passion in Karter’s voice stole into Jax’s heart, and it endeared the younger man to him in brand new ways. Karter seemed like a man of justice, not only for Jax, but for Senior Iverson’s other victims.

Jax mouthed, “thank you,” to Karter, then hunkered down and got to work telling this part of his story.