“Wake up, sleepyhead.”

Braun allowed the familiar voice to draw him out of a fitful sleep. He blinked his eyes open to see Serge peering down at him, his face a mix of sympathy and worry. And he brought with him the delightful scent of hot tea. Braun stretched, his back sore from spending half the night on a chair in Kell’s room, until the constabulary decided it was time for Braun to go home. Kell was declared mentally stable, so Braun’s presence was no longer necessary.

Yeah, he’d had a few choice words for Constable Heely at that statement, before Serge came to his rescue and kept Braun from getting into serious trouble. Kell was still fragile; he needed Braun. But Kell was a suspect, and Heely said they couldn’t allow an outsider to alter or affect Kell’s memory of events. And while Braun logically understood that, emotionally they could go fuck themselves.

Serge had delivered him to the apartment he hadn’t been back to in a week, not even to visit his friends. His sheets were fresh and no longer smelled like Tarek, for which he was grateful. He’d had terrible dreams of Kell being sentenced to death, and Tarek standing by doing nothing, so Serge waking him with tea was truly a blessing.

“You sleep much?” Serge asked as he eased down on the mattress.

“Some.” Braun sat up and accepted the mug. “Thank you. I feel like shit.”

“You look like shit. Yesterday was an emotional day for you. You’re entitled to some shittiness.”

“How’d you know to come get me?”

“Tarek called.” Serge pulled a face. “Him lying to you about being suspended was a fucking stupid thing to do.”

“Thank you. Yes, it was. We’re trying to build a relationship based on mutual trust and respect, and he goes and pulls a stunt like this, all in the name of protecting me. I honestly thought we’d gotten over that whole alpha-protector, omega-weakling bullshit. Guess I was wrong.”

Braun blew across the steaming tea, the scent doing as much to wake him up as the caffeine eventually would. In the clearer light of day, he was less angry at Tarek’s lie, but no less worried. Worried that if Tarek could lie to him about something as huge as his job when they weren’t yet mated, what would he lie about in the future? What if all his “I’ll never hit you” promises were a smokescreen to get what he wanted?

How can I trust him again?

“You can’t change an alpha’s ingrained instincts to act a certain way in stressful situations,” Serge said. “I hate to break it to you, but there is an element of biology involved. His need to protect you isn’t something he can erase from existence. He can’t change it like he could change a shirt, or his opinion on this year’s mayoral candidates. It doesn’t work that way.”

Braun didn’t want Serge to make as much sense as he did. “I understand him wanting to protect me from, say, an alpha who wants to try and hurt me, but not from information. Not from something as big as being suspended because he stuck up for me.”

He stuck up for me.

Guilt swarmed his insides, leaving him cold and heartsick. “He got suspended because he stood by me against Krause’s allegations.”

“If you say this is all your fault, I have permission from your alpha to muzzle you.”

Braun grumped, then sipped his tea. “We really made a mess, didn’t we?”

“Nope. You and Tarek were trying to help others, including Kell. Krause made this mess on his own, and it finally came back to bite him in the ass.”

“Or to slit his throat.”

Serge winced. “Yeah.”

“I still can’t wrap my head around Kell killing the man, no matter what Krause did to him physically.”

“There’s also a mental element to long-term abuse that isn’t often talked about. Kell’s mind suffered just as much, if not more than his body did at Krause’s hands. It’s not always possible to predict how someone who’s pushed too far will react to protect himself.”

“I suppose. What time is it, anyway?” He had no idea where his phone was.

“After one,” Serge said. “It’s why I came and woke you up. Tarek called with news.”

“If he’s suspended, how’s he getting news?”

“No idea, but he said that Kell is being transferred to the provincial jail for holding, pending the results of the investigation.”

Braun’s stomach roiled. “Fuck, why won’t they keep him in the hospital?”

“Apparently, his doctor said he’s physically able to leave, so the constabulary doesn’t want to waste extra manpower guarding him there.”

Waste manpower. Grr.

The mental image of Braun punching Dr. Fox in the face for releasing his brother didn’t do anything to ease his anger. “What about the mental health doctor?”

“I don’t know, but he must be of the opinion that Kell is of sound mind. Tarek didn’t say anything about Kell remembering more of the attack, so don’t bother asking.”

“Okay.” Braun didn’t know if, legally, that was a good thing or a bad thing. Emotionally, Braun was glad Kell didn’t remember whatever had caused him to end up with a sliver of wood in his rectum, or put him into that catatonic state. But legally, Kell’s memory blip might not save him if the constabulary found enough incriminating evidence pointing at Kell as the killer.

Evidence or not, Braun still couldn’t believe his brother was a murderer. Self-defense laws were tricky, and no omega had ever been tried for murder, accidental or intentional.

“If you want to visit him later, I can drive you,” Serge said. “I have an overnight shift.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Oh, and there’s something for you on the kitchen table.”

“What?”

“Go look.” Serge stood and left the room.

Braun drank more of his tea for the boost required to haul his tired bones off the bed. He trudged into the living room and stopped short at the sight of the table. A flower arrangement the size of a toddler stood there, full of exotic pink, purple, and blue flowers. Attached to it was a helium balloon that said “I’m Sorry” in giant silver letters.

He eyeballed Serge, who was watching him from the stove. “So what did Dex do to piss you off?” he asked.

Serge chuckled. “Read the card, dope.”

The card was in a red envelope. He tugged out the white paper square.

I offer my deepest, most sincere apologies to you, my omega, for breaking your trust. I should have trusted you in return, and I live in shame knowing I did not. I regret my actions, and I humbly ask for your forgiveness.

All my love, Tarek.

Braun read the note twice, his heart warring with his brain over accepting the incredibly formal apology. Tarek had a way with words. Braun’s brain understood why Tarek had lied, and it understood that sometimes Tarek would let his alpha instincts control his actions. Tarek would fuck up. So would Braun. But Braun’s heart was still too bruised to see Tarek again right now, or to forgive him.

He dropped the card on the table and went to take a shower.

* * *

Tarek might be suspended, but he had enough friends in the department willing to funnel information to him so he could keep abreast the case. He’d been furious to know that Kell, still physically and emotionally fragile, was being transferred to lockup for the duration. Knowing he would be in a cell alone didn’t help, because those cells were not designed for comfort. They were designed for supposed criminals, and even if Kell had murdered Krause, Kell was no criminal in Tarek’s mind.

He was a victim.

He passed the information along to Serge as he learned it, knowing full well that Braun wouldn’t answer any of his phone calls. Besides, the flowers had only been his first step in properly earning back his omega’s trust.

The second step was the phone call he was about to make.

It rang several times before someone picked up. “Law offices of Locke and Cross, how may I help you?”

“I’d like to speak to Ronin Cross, please,” Tarek said. “Tell him it’s Tarek Bloom.”

“One moment.” The line went silent.

Then it clicked. “Tarek Bloom,” Ronin said. “I haven’t heard your voice in ages. How are things on your side of the world?”

“Shitty, as a matter of fact, and also amazingly great.”

“Well that’s a contradiction I need to hear all about. I don’t have any appointments this afternoon. You need to vent to your old college roommate?”

“Definitely. My two best friends are betas, and they simply don’t understand the instincts that come with alpha biology.”

Ronin laughed. “Is this a professional call? Do you need representation for handing someone their ass?”

“No, but my omega might need representation for his omega brother if he’s accused of murdering his alpha.”

“You….what now?”

Tarek filled his old friend in on everything that had happened in the last few months, since first meeting Braun in Dex’s apartment, all the way up to his decision to call Ronin.

“Well, your omega certainly turned your life upside down, didn’t he?” Ronin asked with laughter in his voice.

“This isn’t funny.”

“No, the situation isn’t funny, it’s you, my friend. You used to swear up and down that you’d never let your judgment get clouded by an omega’s pheromones, and here you are bending over backwards to make one happy.”

Tarek growled. “He’s mine. Surely you understand.”

“Nope, still haven’t met an omega that I’ve felt the mating bond with.”

“You’re lucky then. It’s absolutely maddening, but also amazing in all the best ways.”

“Spoken like a man in love.” Something rustled on Ronin’s end. “What sort of a case do they have against Kell?”

“They have the murder weapon with one of Kell’s fingerprints and no others. A piece of a shattered vase from the bathroom.”

“That’s pretty suspicious. In a house with servants who clean, it’s unlikely no one else ever touched that vase. What else?”

“That’s it, really. The servant who discovered them in bed didn’t see Kell kill Krause, but that doesn’t rule it out. Our investigators are still interviewing staff and trying to create a timeline of movement within the house.”

“I take it they’re looking into the staff as suspects?”

“Yes, Kell confirmed that Krause had a history of abusing the staff. They had a pretty high turnover rate, so it will take a while to speak with everyone. No one is rushing to condemn Kell for this, thank goddess. Well, except for Senior Iverson. He’s already given public interviews basically calling for Kell to be put to death for murdering his son.”

Ronin grunted. “Wealthy family?”

“Very. And politically influential. Considering Kell came from a poor family, he’ll try to throw Kell under the bus as some unstable, infertile omega who went crazy and killed his mate.”

“Typical. This a highly unusual case. I can’t think of a single precedent from law school set for omega killer cases. I’ve never seen one before.”

“That’s why I need your help, old friend. If Kell is tried, he’s going to need a good lawyer, and I can’t think of anyone I’d trust more to handle his case than you.”

“And why is that?” Ronin asked.

“Because of Tobi.”

Ronin went silent. Perhaps bringing up Ronin’s younger brother Tobi, an omega who was brutally murdered as a teenager, wasn’t the kindest move, but Tarek was desperate. Ronin had always been pro-omega rights, and he’d fight tooth and claw for Kell to go free, no matter what the courts attorney threw at him.

“I’ll do it,” Ronin said after a long pause. “Send me everything you already know, so I can begin preparing for this. Even if Kell ends up not being charged, I need all the lead time I can get.”

“I will.”

“And keep me updated with any new information. As soon as he’d charged, I’ll be on the next train to you.”

“Thank you, Ronin. I mean it. Braun means everything to me, and he’ll be devastated if Kell goes to prison. Or worse.”

“I understand. Believe me.”

Tarek did believe him, and he ended the call confident in Ronin’s abilities as an attorney. They’d been good friends during their two years at university, but they’d gone their separate ways afterward: Ronin to study law, and Tarek to the constabulary academy. They kept in touch, but they’d grown apart. It felt good knowing his old friend still had his back—especially in a case this important.

The sound of a car engine in his driveway stole Tarek’s attention away from his phone. He walked to the living room windows and peered outside. Black car, tinted windows. A man in a black uniform exited the driver’s door and walked around to the rear passenger side. Anger thrummed in Tarek’s blood even before Senior Iverson climbed out of the car.

His brief interaction with the man last night had been bitter and fueled by anger from both sides. Iverson demanding access to Kell had infuriated Tarek on a primal level, and not only because Braun was in that room. One look into Senior Iverson’s cold eyes told Tarek all he needed to know about the man, and about Krause’s own sadistic streak.

Tarek met the man on his front porch, unwilling to allow him access to his home. “What are you doing here?”

“I need to speak to your omega,” Iverson said with a sneer in his voice.

“He isn’t home, and even if he was, I wouldn’t allow that under any circumstances.”

Iverson’s lips twisted into something sinister. “I could pay you for the privilege.”

Tarek bristled at the implication of that sentence. “Not. Gonna. Happen. You can take yourself right off my property before I call someone and have you removed.”

“Not man enough to remove me yourself?”

“They don’t pay me enough to deal with vermin removal, Senior Iverson.”

Iverson’s cold eyes went deadly. “Kell murdered my son, and he will pay for it. Dearly. As will everyone related to him.”

“Are you threatening my omega? Because that’s an arrestable offense.”

“Hearsay. There are no witnesses.”

Other than the driver who’d gotten back in the car and couldn’t hear a thing they were saying from twenty feet away.

“Your shitstain of a son deserved to die for how he treated Kell,” Tarek snapped. “You’re the only person who’ll mourn him, and when you’re dead, your entire forsaken line of abusers will die with you.” He’d already checked and knew for a fact that Iverson had no more alpha sons.

Iverson reared back, but Tarek avoided the punch easily. He twisted Iverson’s arm up behind his back and pushed the man face-first against the front door. “I may be on suspension, but I’m still a constable,” Tarek said. “You wanna go to jail for assaulting a constable?”

“Let me go, or I’ll have your badge.”

“Good luck with that.” Tarek spun Iverson around and shoved him.

Iverson stumbled off the porch and landed on his ass in the grass. The driver bolted out of the car to help him stand.

“Push me and I’ll have you arrested for assault,” Tarek snapped. “I have security cameras.”

He didn’t, but Iverson seemed to believe him. He got back into his car in sputtering fury, and they left. Tarek glared at the back end of the departing vehicle, still fuming but glad that monster was off his property. Never before had the phrase “like father, like son” been more appropriate than for Senior and Krause Iverson.

Tarek went back inside to plan the next phase of Operation: Grovel to Braun. The flowers had sent his account into the negative, but his pay would post at midnight tonight. Bank fees were completely worth it to get his omega back and prove that Tarek deserved a second chance.

* * *

Braun returned to the apartment with Serge, more emotionally exhausted than he’d been in his life. Visiting Kell at the jail was more complicated than the hospital. He had to fill out forms, get his fingerprints taken and a visitor’s pass issued. Then Constable Jenks sat him down and made Braun promise not to tell Kell about the wood sliver. They wanted Kell to remember things on his own and not be fed outside information.

It felt more like they didn’t want Kell to remember he hadn’t actually killed Krause, but whatever. Braun signed the non-disclosure agreement. Anything to see his brother.

The small room he’d been taken to was dingy and cold, and it only had two chairs bolted to the floor, six feet apart. The officer who brought Kell in wearing wrist and ankle chains warned them not to touch each other or cross the line in the middle of the room, or the visit would end immediately.

It had taken all of Braun’s self-control to stay in his seat after the officer left them alone. Kell looked utterly miserable. Pale, exhausted, and he squirmed on the hard plastic seat, unable to get comfortable. Braun didn’t have to ask why.

They hadn’t talked much. There wasn’t a lot to say, so they enjoyed the simple act of being in the same room together, chatting about nothing important while the world was burning down around them. Braun tried offering words of comfort, but they all felt flat. Now that Kell was out of the hospital and in jail, the entire thing seemed that much more dire. More real.

More dangerous.

He hadn’t given Kell the details of his fight with Tarek, reassuring Kell that it was personal and between them, even though it wasn’t. And he couldn’t bring himself to ask Kell why he’d lied to the constabulary about Braun’s visit. Braun knew he’d been forced to lie. No sense in bringing up another painful subject when it would do neither of them any good.

In the end, all he could do was show Kell that he was in his corner, no matter what happened next. They’d had each other’s backs their entire lives, and Braun wouldn’t give up now. Not when the stakes were so high.

He’d hated not being able to hug Kell goodbye, but trying could get him banned from visiting tomorrow, if Kell was still in lockup. A single one-hour visit a day was all that was allowed, unless it was your lawyer. And as a widowed omegin suspect in a murder investigation, they could hold Kell indefinitely, for “his own protection.”

It was only late afternoon, but all Braun wanted to do was crawl back in bed and stay there until morning. That dream evaporated the moment Serge unlocked the apartment door. The strong scent of garlic hit them both on the face. Braun tracked the scent to the oven, which was set on warm. Inside, he found a large mushroom and extra-garlic pizza from Braun’s favorite delivery place.

On the top of the stove was a note: You must be exhausted, my love, from all your worrying. Please don’t worry over food. –Tarek.

“Damn,” Serge said. He’d read the note over Braun’s shoulder.

Braun’s traitorous stomach let out a gurgle. He put the hot box on top of the stove. Might was well eat, since the food was in front of them.

Serge went to the refrigerator for drinks, and he stopped short. “Uh, Braun?”

Oh goddess, what now?

He peeked around Serge’s arm. The refrigerator was full to the brim with groceries. And not just regular food, but many of Braun’s favorite things, like fresh tomato salad with cilantro and his soda of choice. “How did he do this?” Braun asked. “Did he break in?”

“Tarek has a key.” Serge grabbed a soda and a beer, then shut the door. “Someone is doing his very best to grovel to his omega.”

“I guess.” Braun got them plates for the pizza and dished up slices. “Food and flowers don’t fix what he did.”

“This is true, but it does show he’s sincerely sorry for hurting you. That’s gotta count for something.”

“It does.”

They settled at the kitchen table to eat. The pizza was wonderful. Hot, cheesy, and lots of garlic, just like he loved it.

“Deep down, Tarek is an amazing guy,” Serge said. “Seriously amazing. And even the best men in the world will fuck up on occasion. No one is perfect, not even him.”

“I know. It’s just with everything going on with Kell, I needed Tarek to be the one, consistently strong, stable thing in my life.”

“He still can be. I’m not telling you to forgive him, or to take him back. All I’m telling you is he made a horrible mistake, and he obviously regrets it. You do whatever you want with that, okay?”

“Thanks.”

Truth be told, Braun was miserable without Tarek, and he couldn’t convince himself otherwise. He wanted his alpha to hold him and tell him everything with Kell would be all right, because Braun needed to believe that. And the only person who could make him believe it was Tarek. But Tarek had lied to him for a week, about something that affected both of their lives and reputations.

How was he supposed to reconcile that?

Pizza first. Deep, meaningful thoughts later.

He got up for a second slice.