Concern overrode his fury, and Mikel followed Brogan. Followed him into the bathroom where Brogan dropped to his knees and retched into the toilet. Rubbed Brogan’s back while he vomited pizza, tea, biscuits and bile. Flushed when Brogan couldn’t seem to manage it, then got a cup of water for Brogan to clean his mouth out.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Brogan said, over and over, a constant refrain of anger and misery.

“He’ll never touch you again.” Mikel pulled Brogan into his arms, hating the way his omega shook all over. “I’ve got you, you’re safe.”

“How could someone fucking do that?”

“I don’t know. Some men are simply evil to their core.” Mikel’s own sire certainly fit that category. The entire situation with Senior Hamilton was beyond appalling. To be so insulted by a mating offer, Hamilton somehow arranged accidents to leave Brogan an orphan, got him sent to Lawry, used his own son to impregnate Brogan, and then Hamilton attended those fights?

Why does so much evil exist in the world?

“It was that fucking mustache,” Brogan said. “Hamilton got away with what he did all this time because of a fucking mustache and sideburns.”

“You had no way to know. It was probably a disguise.”

“But why? I never met the man before the fight ring, and none of us were meant to survive it.”

“Paranoia, maybe. It’s kept the constabulary from identifying him until now.”

Brogan pressed his face into Mikel’s neck. “Goddess, I don’t want to sit through another trial. I can’t.”

“You won’t do it alone, I swear.”

“Omi?” Peyton stood in the bathroom doorway, his precious face scrunched. “Is Omi sick?”

“A little bit, baby boy,” Brogan replied. “I’ll feel better after a hug.”

Peyton went straight for them and plopped himself into the middle of their huddle. Mikel wrapped his arms around both of his men, his heart aching for his omega’s pain. One thing after another kept crashing down on Brogan, and Mikel was helpless to fix it. The alpha in him demanded he find the person hurting his bondmate and punish him. The man in him stayed put. Right now, being present was more important than vengeance.

“I’m sorry I lost it like that,” Brogan said.

“Never apologize for your feelings, love,” Mikel said. “I can’t begin to imagine how you’re feeling about all this.”

“Right now, I’m just numb.”

“That’s okay. Are you ready to go back into the living room?”

“They must both think I’m an idiot.”

“No.” Mikel tapped Brogan’s chin until he looked up. “They think you’re human and you’ve had a huge shock. Come on.”

Peyton reached for Mikel, so he carried Peyton on his left hip and kept his right arm around Brogan’s shoulders as they returned to their guests. Higgs and Tarek were in their same chairs, and they both looked strangely guilty.

“Are you doing alright?” Tarek asked.

“I’ve had better weeks,” Brogan replied. “It’s been one blow after another, but it does help knowing that we’ll be able to take one more predator off the streets.” He returned to the couch and sat, grateful to Mikel for staying close. His constant support was keeping Brogan from falling to pieces again. “What do you need me to do?”

“Tomorrow, we’ll need you to come down to division and sign an official statement identifying Senior Hamilton as one of the men who assaulted you, as well as any other possible details you can remember. Once we have that, we’ll take it, the recording, and the DNA test to Prosecutor Awless, and he’ll tell us if he thinks it’s enough to have Hamilton arrested.”

“And after the public humiliation of Senior Iverson’s trial,” Higgs added, “there’s a chance Hamilton will cut a deal and save us all the headache and pain of another trial.”

“Please,” Brogan said. “I honestly thought I’d finally put all this behind me. All I want to do his focus on my family and our future, not my past.”

“We’ll do what we can, I promise.”

“And can this stay between us for now? Everyone’s still finding out about Peyton’s diagnosis, and I don’t want to heap this on my friends, too. Not until something actually happens with Hamilton.”

“Of course,” Tarek said. “Braun knows there’s a lot about my job I can’t tell him, and he respects that.”

“Same with Liam,” Higgs added.

“Thank you.”

“If there’s nothing else,” Mikel said, “I’ll walk you gentlemen out.” He tried to hand Peyton over to Brogan, but Peyton clung to Mikel.

Brogan collapsed against the couch cushions, exhausted to his bones, and his stomach hurt from vomiting. He hated vomiting. Morning sickness stuck in a small room, with only a bucket to barf in, had been a special kind of hell. Just the smell of sick put him back in that room, and he’d been glad for Mikel’s steady support today.

Mikel and Peyton returned to the couch. “It’s been a hell of day, huh?” Mikel said.

He snorted bitter laughter. “That’s a mild understatement.”

“Are you sure you don’t want your friends to know about Hamilton?”

“Yes. They’ll just worry, and I don’t need them worrying about me more than they already are.”

“I thought that’s what family was for.”

Brogan leaned against Mikel’s shoulder. “Can we not? I just want to relax for a while. Not think.”

“Of course. Anything you need.”

Eventually, Peyton squirmed to get down, but Brogan and Mikel sat together in silence for a long time. Long enough for Daiya and Yeoman to come home from work, and once again, Mikel took them into the kitchen to explain why Brogan was such a mess. Brogan hated feeling as if he was being handled or coddled, but at the same time, he didn’t have the energy to be strong anymore today. His entire life had been turned on its head, and all he wanted was to sleep.

Preferably with Mikel by his side, but Brogan knew that was impossible right now.

Mikel did stay long into the evening, though. Daiya gave Brogan ginger tea and crackers to soothe his stomach, and Mikel put Peyton down for the night. As Brogan began drooping around the edges, Mikel stayed close while he brushed his teeth, then politely hung in the hallway while Brogan changed his clothes.

After Brogan climbed into bed, Mikel sat by his head, his back to the headboard, and simply existed with him. The contact and comforting scent of his alpha was enough to help Brogan drift into a troubled sleep—but he slept. And rested.

And was shocked to his core to wake up the next morning to the unfamiliar sound of gentle snoring. A sound he tracked to the bedroom floor, where Mikel slept soundly with a pillow and blanket.

He stayed.

The complex simplicity of the gesture had Brogan falling even harder for his alpha.

“Mikel.”

He woke immediately and sat up, laser-focused on Brogan. “Are you okay?”

“Get up here with me. You didn’t have to sleep on the floor.”

“It didn’t seem right to share your bed without permission.”

“Well, you have it.”

Mikel stretched as he stood. Instead of sliding under the covers, though, he lay on top of them and curled up close to Brogan. “Did you sleep all right?”

“I did,” Brogan replied with a grin. “Best sleep in days. Thanks to you.”

“All I did was stay.”

“Exactly.” Brogan scooted closer so he could rub his nose against Mikel’s. “You stayed and that means everything to me. Thank you.”

“I was happy to. I’m here for anything you need, my omega.”

“Good, because we need you.”

Brogan sealed the promise with a kiss and then, with his alpha by his side, drifted back into a dreamless, restful sleep.

Mikel didn’t want to leave Brogan, but he excused himself in the early afternoon for his regular therapy appointment—not only because the appointments were a condition of his probation, but because he needed to unpack his thoughts on the last two days worth of discoveries.

“You seem anxious,” Dr. Callis said after their standard greetings.

“I am. My bondmate is upset, and there’s nothing I can do to fix it,” Mikel replied.

“Can you tell me why he’s upset?”

Mikel wasn’t sure how much of Brogan’s personal life he should reveal, especially the Hamilton stuff. “He got some bad news about Peyton. His son? He’s got this genetic disorder that…well, it’s not curable, and most people don’t live past twenty-five.”

Dr. Callis’s normally-tempered expression cracked. “That is a terrible thing to learn about a child. I’m sorry, Mikel.”

“I’m trying to stay positive for them, because medical breakthroughs happen all the time, right? They could find a cure, right? Peyton’s only two, so they’ve got a lot of years together.”

“That’s all true. However, grief is unique to everyone. Right now, it sounds as if you’re supporting Brogan while he grieves what he perceives as a terrible loss. The loss of his son’s future, even though, as you said, the future is still unwritten. A cure could certainly be found.”

His own grief rose and strangled his vocal chords. “But what if they don’t? Peyton is such a bright, cheerful baby. I want to see him grow up, find a mate, and have a family and future of his own, not die too young from a sudden, painful illness.”

“What is the diagnosis, if I may ask?”

“Donal Syndrome. I’d never heard of it until this week.”

“It’s an extremely rare condition. I had a colleague whose son died of it several years ago, which is how I know of it.”

“I just want to fix this for them, you know?”

“I know. But you’re doing exactly what you can do, which is be present. Enjoy each other’s company.” Dr. Callis tilted his head in that odd, assessing way of his. “Are you re-thinking your relationship with Brogan?”

“Hell no. I’m not running from this or them. I guess I’ve spent so much time worrying about Brogan’s feelings, I haven’t really explored my own.”

“And how are you feeling?”

“Terrified.” Mikel snorted. “And you know how hard it is for alphas to admit to fear.”

“You’ve always been fairly open with me about your emotions. Are you being as open with Brogan?”

“Not yet. I don’t want to pile my fear on top of his.”

“Part of being in a relationship is trusting your partner with your thoughts and emotions. Sharing those burdens with each other. Be careful, of course, but don’t repress what you’re feeling for his sake. That way lays danger, and you know it.”

Mikel did know it. Years of suppressing his rage and humiliation over his sire’s treatment of him and his family had led him to a breaking point. He didn’t want to risk that sort of meltdown again—not when he had a mate and child to lose.

“There’s some other stuff going on,” Mikel said. “Legal stuff I probably shouldn’t talk about. Brogan’s not in trouble, but it’s connected to that damned fight ring he was in.”

“And that’s upsetting you, as well?”

“Yeah. A lot. And it’s upsetting Brogan, too, because he thought that part of his life was behind him, you know? But now it’s all back in our faces. It’s just been so much at once.”

“Then take the time you need to process it. I know it’s difficult to see someone you care about in pain, but you can’t rush this along. Especially whatever legal thing is going on.”

“I hate being helpless.” Phantom restraints squeezed his wrists and ankles. Tired muscles ached from being stretched, standing on his tiptoes, trying so hard to hold position.

No, don’t go back there, stay present.

“Mikel?”

“I’m okay.” Mikel scrubbed his hands over his face, then shook out his wrists.

“Where did you go just now?”

“Basement.”

“The box?”

“No, the chains.”

“Why?”

“They made me feel helpless, because I couldn’t get out of them. He could…do anything he wanted.”

“Such as?”

“Punch me in the stomach. Cut me. Burn me.” Mikel had stopped taking his shirt off in front of others a long time ago, and oh, goddess. What would Brogan think of the scars? Would they scare him? Horrify him? Make him realize his bondmate was a coward for never fighting back?

There were many good reasons on his skin for why Mikel never took his undershirt off during sex.

“Mikel, tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I told Brogan about the box, but not the chains. Or the scars.”

“And?”

“I won’t be able to stand it if he thinks I’m a coward. It’ll break me, because sometimes I still believe it. I need Brogan to believe in me.”

“Belief goes both ways. You need to believe in him, as well, and to trust him. I know that isn’t easy for you, but he’s your bondmate and you want a life with him, correct?”

“More than anything.”

Mikel was still forming the tools he needed to navigate life beyond these appointments, but he meant what he said. He wanted a life with Brogan and Peyton, but he also didn’t trust easily. He didn’t like to share his emotions, especially the negative ones. But he needed to, in order to have a healthy relationship with his bondmate. He’d do the work, because he knew without a doubt, the end results would be worth it.

As long as I don’t fuck it all up in the end.

Brogan didn’t hear from either constable about Hamilton until early the following week. He was also never alone, thanks to the unerring support of his friends. Not only Braun, Kell, Jaysan, Liam, and Jax, but also Liam’s stepsons Demir and Tarius, members of Brogan’s support group, and beta friends from Kell’s. Peyton adored the attention, and every time Brogan heard his boy laugh, it broke his heart.

It broke his heart to think that laughter could be silenced one day by an illness no one could predict, and for which there was no cure. Yet. The “yet” was being driven into him by everyone who loved him, but most thoroughly by Mikel. Mikel hadn’t slept over again, but they spent hours a day together now, with and without their other friends around.

And so far, the news about Hamilton hadn’t been broken to the group.

That changed the morning Higgs called his mobile and said, “Senior Hamilton is in custody and facing multiple charges.”

Brogan and Kell were at the dining table drinking tea, while Peyton, Branson and Rei—Braun was at his part-time job, so Kell was sitting—played on the floor nearby. Two alphas and a beta, and while Branson was beta, he was also the oldest and seemed to be directing their antics.

Higgs’s news made his belly swoop. “He is?” Brogan asked, needing to be sure he’d heard the words correctly.

“Yes, he is, and he’s already made some vague threats via his lawyer. I don’t want to alarm you, but I’m sending a patrol car over to watch your house.”

“Did he threaten me or Peyton?”

Kell’s eyebrows went up.

“Not directly, no,” Higgs replied. “It’s a precaution until we get through the arraignment process, which could happen as early as tomorrow. Are you free to come in this afternoon and do a lineup? Your identification of him in person will strengthen our case. We’re going to ask Jaysan and Jax to do it, too.”

Liam, the lucky jerk, had been rescued before he ever had to fight another pregnant omega. Before he could lose and be bought.

“Yes, I can be there today, not a problem,” Brogan replied. “Can I bring Mikel with me?”

“Of course. One o’clock?”

“Okay. I’ll be there.”

Brogan hung up, caught somewhere between relieved and terrified.

“What was all that about?” Kell asked. “It sounded serious. Is someone threatening you?”

“Not exactly. There’s something I’ve been keeping from you guys. Something that I learned last week and that led to Peyton’s diagnosis.”

Kell seemed momentarily hurt that Brogan had kept a secret. “I’m sure you had good reasons. Can you tell me now?”

“I don’t see why not.”

Brogan told Kell about his two worst days in recent memory: Francis and Senior Hamilton, Peyton’s tests, the results, the questions about his own parents’ deaths, and the money trail. Kell’s eyes got wider and wider as Brogan spoke, but he didn’t interrupt.

“Oh, Brogan,” Kell said when he stopped. “I can’t imagine what you’ve been going through this past week. All the wondering and waiting. I’m so glad you had Mikel. He knows everything, right?”

“Everything except the phone call just now, and that he’s going with me to a lineup, so I can identify Senior Hamilton as my attacker.”

“Something tells me he won’t mind.”

“Mikel has been amazing about all this.” Brogan picked up his tea, but didn’t drink. Mostly he needed a prop for his hands. “I know it’s tearing him up inside, not being able to do anything except hold my hand, but I don’t know if I’d have gotten through this without him. And I’ll need him for whatever happens next.”

“I understand completely. I doubt I’d have made it through my own trial intact if I hadn’t had Ronin there. Not just as my lawyer, but as a friend and bondmate. He kept me sane.”

“I’m glad you have him.” Brogan sometimes still boggled at what Kell had been going through while he and the others were stuck in their own brand of hell with the fight ring.

Mikel’s familiar, sharp knock on the front door was punctuated by him coming inside, as was his new habit. Despite Brogan repeatedly saying he didn’t have to knock, as long as someone was home, he still knocked out of respect. “It’s not my home, after all,” was his familiar line.

“Oh, it’s a full house,” Mikel said when he spotted the three kids romping around the living room. “Hi, Kell.” He strode over and dropped a kiss on Brogan’s lips. “Hey, you.”

“Hey.” Brogan longed for the deeper kisses they’d been regularly sharing, but he could wait for more privacy. “They arrested Senior Hamilton today.”

Mikel grabbed the edge of the table. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope, Constable Higgs called ten minutes ago and told me.”

“That’s great news.” Mikel pulled him up into a fierce hug, and Brogan melted against his warm, broad chest. “Finally good news.”

“It is great news. I need to go in for an identification at one. Will you come?”

“Absolutely, no question.”

“As if he’d let you go alone,” Kell teased.

“So wait.” Mikel pulled back. “Kell knows?”

“I told him everything just now. If you hadn’t shown up when you did, I’d have called you next.”

“I hate that Brogan is going to have to go through this again,” Kell said, “but another monster has been found and is off the streets, and hopefully he’ll stay behind bars where he belongs. I know the name Freya Hamilton through Krause, but I don’t remember ever meeting the man or his son. Before this, I would have doubted everyone involved knew each other, because of plausible deniability, but now it doesn’t surprise me Senior Iverson’s friends were as vile and twisted as he was.”

From anyone else, the expectation of being personally familiar with a media mogul’s family might have sounded strange. But Kell’s first mate, Krause Iverson, had been heir to one of the biggest financial empires in Sansbury—an empire that broke down and was sold off after Krause’s death and his father’s subsequent incarceration, not only for his involvement in the fight ring, but also for contributing to Krause’s continued abuse and torture of Kell.

If the two Seniors had been friends…ugh.

“I can’t believe that bastard thought he got away with it,” Mikel said.

“Secrets always have a habit of becoming known,” Kell replied. “No matter how much you try to bury them.”

“Promise me we won’t keep secrets from each other,” Brogan said to Mikel. He needed to hear the words. “Please?”

“I promise,” Mikel replied. “We’ll get through this together. No matter what happens.”

Kell stood and squeezed Brogan’s shoulder. “You’ve got all of us. I’m sure Tarek and Isa will want Jaysan and Jax to identify Hamilton, as well, so once this secret is out, you’ll have even more support than you know what to do with.”

Brogan covered Kell’s hand with his. “They do have to, and thank you.”

“Anytime, brother.”

Brother. Brogan had been an only child, with friends but no siblings. And yet the omegas he’d met post-fight ring had become closer than any blood relative ever could, because they’d all experienced terrible things. Things that should have made them all timid and terrified of the world, and instead, it had united them. Created a brotherhood. A drive for social change.

A family.

And that was everything.