Ronin didn’t mind extended hotel stays, or eating most of his meals in restaurants during travel, but he’d never turn down an offer of a home-cooked dinner. He had a bit of trouble finding Tarek’s home, as he was unfamiliar with the province and neighborhood, and he had to ring Tarek once to clarify the street.

What idiot residential planner thought having Oak Street and Oak Lane within five blocks of each other was a good idea?

The small cottage was warmly lit from the inside, its big front windows showing a handful of people moving around inside. Ronin hadn’t realized it would be more than Tarek and Braun for dinner, so he was glad that he’d brought two bottles of wine, instead of the customary one bottle. Part of it was out of politeness to thank his hosts; part of it was a thank you for reintroducing him to Kell.

He parked on the street and walked up the stone path to the front porch. The swing was a nice, homey touch, as was the sing-songy chime of the bell when he pushed. Braun Etting opened the front door with a grin. He was a younger, healthier version of Kell, with the same thick, brown hair and bright green eyes.

“You made it. Please, come in,” Braun said. “Can I take your coat?”

“Of course.” Ronin handed the two wine bottles to a beta standing nearby, and then shucked his light autumn jacket. He’d changed out of his suit and tie for something more casual, which fit the appearances of the other men in the home.

Braun hung his coat on a set of hooks near the door. The house smelled pleasantly of roasting meat. It had a spacious open floor plan, with the living area bleeding directly into the big kitchen. The two betas hanging near the sofa were watching him with open curiosity. Tarek was nowhere in sight.

“Guys,” Braun said. “This is Kell’s lawyer, Ronin Cross. Mr. Cross, these are two friends of ours. Serge and Dex Freel.”

Ronin shook their hands. Dex had a firm grip that rivaled any alpha’s. Serge seemed a bit more standoffish and his handshake was brief. Ronin didn’t take it personally. He was a stranger to Serge, and his alpha suppressor tended to wear off a bit in the evening, making his pheromones more noticeable.

Before he could ask where Tarek was, he appeared from one of the open doors to the right. “Welcome.” Tarek came over to shake. “Glad you made it.”

“Thank you for the invitation,” Ronin replied.

“He brought wine,” Dex said, indicating the two bottles he’d put on the coffee table.

Braun appeared with glasses and a bottle opener—which he handed over to Serge, who went to work pouring everyone a glass.

“How’s Kell doing?” Braun asked.

“Difficult to say, considering this was our first meeting,” Ronin replied. He accepted a glass of wine from Serge with a smile. “He seems exhausted, but that’s not unexpected, considering the circumstances. But he was also perfectly coherent during our discussions. The most important thing going forward is keeping him in good spirits. A positive attitude, even in a dire situation, is absolutely necessary.”

“Makes sense.”

“I’m also happy to report that you’ll be allowed daily visits again, starting tomorrow.”

Braun nearly dropped his wine glass. “Really? Thank you so much!”

“How did you manage that?” Tarek asked.

“I argued in front of a judge that Kell seeing family on a regular basis was necessary to his continued mental health, and that it might also help him remember what happened the day Krause died, which was to the benefit of both defense and prosecution.”

Braun scowled. “We don’t want to help the prosecution.”

“Of course we don’t. Sometimes you have to play word games in order to get what you want, and what I wanted was for you to be able to visit Kell. He needs you.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome, and unfortunately, that’s really all I can tell you about our discussions today.”

“I understand.” Braun looked like he wanted to hug Ronin, but was holding back for propriety’s sake.

A buzzer went off in the kitchen. “Dinner’s ready,” Tarek announced. “Why don’t we move this to the dining table.”

Ronin deferred to the other guests, allowing them to approach the table first. Dex grabbed a cane from where it leaned against the sofa, and he walked with a pronounced limp.

Interesting.

Dinner was a big pot roast with potatoes, carrots and onions, and a side of tossed salad. Ronin accepted a healthy portion of everything, mouth watering over the spicy scent of the beef. Once everyone was served, light conversation began.

“What do you do, Serge?” Ronin asked out of genuine curiosity. He didn’t like to intimidate betas and omegas, and he often found open engagement helped smooth the waters.

“I’m a nurse at the province hospital,” Serge replied.

“Excellent. Do you have a specialty?”

“No, I mostly work on the wards.”

The clipped answers weren’t giving Ronin much hope of befriending the man.

“But he is studying for intensive care certification,” Dex said, giving his partner an indulgent smile. “Once he passes, it’s a huge promotion. His salary will almost double.”

Serge blushed under the praise.

“That’s amazing,” Ronin said. “I can’t imagine the amount of studying that must require.”

“It can’t be much different than law school and all the studying you did,” Serge said.

“I’ll tell you a secret. Mostly we studied procedures and big name cases. All of the motions cited during actual trials? We look that shit up as we go.”

Something in his comment and tone made Serge laugh.

That’s progress.

Ronin didn’t know how long he’d be around, but he wanted to make friends with Tarek’s friends. Keep them included in Kell’s case as much as possible, so Kell had a support team behind him.

“Dex works for the constabulary,” Serge said. “Main records room.”

“It’s not very exciting work,” Dex added, “but I can’t exactly walk a beat or chase after criminals.” He waved at his knees. “Bad accident.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Ronin said.

“It is what it is, but the academy is where Tarek and I first met.”

“And he’s been a pain in my ass ever since,” Tarek replied with a grin.

Dex shrugged. “I do my best.”

Tarek began telling a story about their academy days that Ronin half listened to. He mostly studied Braun, who had withdrawn from the conversation. Braun poked at his food, playing more than eating, and he barely touched his wine. The young omega oozed worry and fear, and Ronin wished he knew how to reassure him that Kell would be okay.

I can’t reassure him, because I can’t say for one-hundred-percent certainty I can get Kell off. I want to say it, but I can’t.

“Ronin?”

His head snapped toward Dex, who’s said his name. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I said Tarek told us you were unmated.”

“Yes, I am. I suppose, like Tarek, I’m a bit of a workaholic. I tend to live inside my cases, so it made seeking an omega difficult. And of the few I have met, I never felt the mating bond.”

Because I’ve already bonded, and he’s sitting in a jail cell right now.

He resisted the urge to growl out his frustration.

“That has to suck,” Dex said. “I can’t imagine not having met Serge.”

Ronin shrugged. “I suppose twenty-eight is a bit old to still be single, but apparently miracles do happen.” He shot a pointed look at Tarek.

Braun made a soft, huffy sound that might have been laughter.

“That they do,” Tarek said. He squeezed Braun’s shoulder, then pointed at his mostly full plate. “Eat.”

The order worked. Braun began to put food into his mouth and chew. Conversation shifted again, this time to an unruly patient of Serge’s who seemed to enjoy flashing the nursing staff at every opportunity. Ronin soaked in the easy camaraderie of the quartet of friends and found himself oddly jealous of the two happy couples. He’d never given much thought to being single, not even during work functions where everyone else seemed to have a significant other on their arm. But seeing Tarek beaming over his omega, and Braun reacting to his alpha’s loving order to eat…yeah, jealous.

Ronin polished off his wine, and then poured himself a second glass.

* * *

After the table was cleared and leftovers put away, Tarek invited Ronin to stay for a game of pinochle. Braun was still learning the game, so allowing him to watch instead of trying to partner would help him become a stronger player. Ronin hadn’t played in several years, so they partnered him with Dex, who was the strongest player at the table.

They all changed seats, so they were sitting opposite their partner, and Tarek dealt the hand, three cards each. It all started coming back to Ronin as they played, and he began to enjoy the game. Serge seemed to be the most competitive person in the room, which amused him coming from a reserved beta. Halfway through the game, Tarek let Braun take his seat and continue.

Braun and Serge reached the limit of 1500 points first, but not by much, and the pair had a lot of fun playing smug about it. Ronin didn’t mind. He was fond of Braun, even after having only met him twice, and the beta couple was growing on him. At least he knew that if/when Kell came home, he’d have a good group to support him.

The wine began making him sleepy around nine, so Ronin excused himself from a second game. He shook everyone’s hand goodbye. Tarek walked him to the door and handed him his jacket.

“Thank you for dinner,” Ronin said. “It was delicious.”

“Thanks for coming.” He pitched his voice low. “I think Braun interacting with you in a social way will help him trust you more. With Kell.”

“Understandable. Braun has the most at stake here, aside from Kell.”

“He does.”

“I’m glad you and Braun are back in a good place.” Up until this morning, the pair had been living apart after an argument that Tarek had taken all responsibility for.

“So am I,” Tarek said. “Thanks again for coming all the way out here.”

“It’s no hardship, believe me.” Ronin had zero regrets in taking this case.

I’ve found my omega again. Now I need to find a way to keep him.

The thought carried Ronin back to his hotel, and stayed with him the rest of the night.

* * *

Kell was never going to get used to sleeping in a noisy jail cell with people constantly moving past the door. The cell itself was fairly private, but also tiny, with four solid walls, a single-person cot, and this weird toilet/sink combo thing. The door was made up of solid steel bars, with a wide slot for his meal tray. The bars on the door were spaced far enough apart that anyone passing by could look in and see the entire cell, which shattered the illusion of actual privacy.

Using the toilet was an especially humiliating experience, especially if he couldn’t hold it during the busier daytime hours, so he ate and drank as little as possible.

He dreaded nights in this cell more than days, because at night he had nothing but time to think. Time to wonder if he’d be found guilty, if all of this was worth the trouble, or if he should simply plead guilty. Most of all, he thought of Branson and he cried. He cried silent tears for his lost son and missed him so badly his body physically ached.

Kell poked at that morning’s breakfast offering of runny eggs and mostly burned toast with jam. The orange juice was just this side of being sour, so he left it alone and washed down the dry toast with water from the sink. He was glad the place didn’t have a mirror, because if his outside matched his insides at all, he had to look a wreck. And he hadn’t shaved in long enough that his chin was covered in itchy whiskers.

A guard stopped at his door and banged the bars with his baton. “Mr. Kell, visitor.”

“My lawyer?” Kell asked, stupidly eager to see Ronin again.

“Don’t know, didn’t ask. You know the drill.”

Yes, he knew the drill by now. Abandoning the food tray, Kell stuck both hands through the tray slot, so the guard could cuff him. Kell was a threat to no one, and the cuffs only drove home the point that he was considered a possible murderer by these people.

Not Ronin. He believes I’m innocent, even though I might not be.

Kell dutifully let the guard lead him down through the belly of the jail’s holding cells, doing his best to ignore the taunts and jeers from other prisoners. He’d heard worse from his own mate’s mouth. Up a staircase that smelled like urine and bleach. Into a busier corridor where patrolmen wandered the halls, and the occasional constable passed. He always looked, hoping to see Tarek’s friendly face, but the man was still on suspension, as far as Kell knew.

No reason to assume he wasn’t, until someone told Kell otherwise.

The meeting room was empty when he was seated and his cuffs attached to the table. This was somehow worse than simply being cuffed. Not only was he restrained, but he was tied down like a wild animal who would attack anyone who entered the room.

He waited in silence for what felt like an eternity before the door opened. Kell’s heart pounded, hoping for Ronin, or maybe even Braun.

A body from his nightmares filled the doorway for a long moment, before striding in and shutting it. Leaving them alone in the room.

Kell trembled as Senior Haus Iverson stalked toward the table. He loomed over Kell, his heavyset body heaving as Senior Iverson’s anger took over, darkening his cheeks into something scary and awful. More than his own mate, Kell had feared being left alone with Senior Iverson, especially during heat.

Senior Iverson didn’t take the alpha suppressant, so his pheromones and rage dripped off him like rain, sprinkling over Kell’s skin and making his insides quake. He cowered instinctively, not only as an omega, but as someone who knew the power of Senior Iverson’s fists.

Fists that banged down on the table’s surface. Kell yelped in terror of the man, but he had nowhere to hide.

“You disgusting little shit,” Senior Iverson snarled. “You murdered my son. My only fucking son.”

Kell flinched away from the words, desperate to get free of that table, to find a weapon and protect himself. Why was Senior Iverson being allowed to speak to him without a guard present?

Money. He paid someone off.

“Nothing to say, you little shit?” Senior Iverson continued, his anger a living, raging thing in that small room. “Your life is over, you hear me? Over. Even if they don’t give you to the gallows, your life won’t be worth spit in prison. You’ll wish you were dead.”

Absolute terror was overriding Kell’s ability to respond. He jerked against his cuffs, instinct telling him to get clear of the man and his rage. To put as many walls and doors between them as possible, but he couldn’t fucking get free!

“You’ll spend the rest of your days bent over a cot with your ass in the air, good for absolutely nothing but being a fuck toy to prisoners and guards, and why not? That’s all you fucking omegas have ever been good for is a hole to screw and the babies you shit out.”

Senior Iverson rounded the table; Kell jerked away but had nowhere to go. Strong hands grabbed his hair and the back of his jumpsuit, and shoved him face-first onto the table. His cuffed hands twisted painfully and the metal loop dug into his stomach. Those hands held him down, and Kell didn’t have any chance of breaking free. He held perfectly still, his rioting stomach threatening to expel the toast he’d had.

Struggling only made it hurt more.

Senior Iverson leaned down, his big body smashing Kell against the table, a semi pressing into his ass. Tears prickled Kell’s eyes, and he let out a harsh sob. “It’s too bad that door doesn’t have a lock, or I’d take you right now,” Senior Iverson said. “One last fuck, for old time’s sake. But I don’t think I’d have enough time to enjoy myself, so I’ll have to live knowing this will be your position for the rest of your life. However long it might be.”

A tiny spark of anger rose through the fog of fear blanketing Kell’s mind. If this was his last chance to talk back to his greatest enemy, he’d take it. “Fuck you,” Kell whispered.

The hand in his hair tightened so fiercely, Kell worried a chunk would be ripped from his scalp. “I don’t think so, little shit.” He groped at Kell’s ass through itchy cotton, and Kell sent a silent thank you to whoever made these jumpsuits a single unit. Senior Iverson couldn’t get at him without some serious clothing adjustments.

But the unwanted touching infuriated him even more. “Get the fuck off me!” he screamed, proud to have finally found his voice. “Get off!”

The door opened with crashing force, and two alarmed voices shouted at once. Only one mattered to Kell.

“Ronin!”

“Get off him, you bastard,” Ronin snarled. Feet shuffled, and then the awful weight pressing Kell down was gone.

He couldn’t move, too afraid of what was happening, and of the mixed scents of alpha pheromones and fury, so Kell stayed put, even though his belly ached from pressing onto the metal loop.

“Keep him the fuck away from my client, or I’ll see he’s charged with assault!”

Ronin. His voice washed over Kell, telling him it was going to be okay, and that he could stand up now, but Kell was frozen. Absolutely frozen, and he didn’t know what to do.

“Kell?” Ronin’s voice, softer and closer. “I’m going to touch your shoulder, okay? Just me and no one else.”

The soft press settled the part of Kell that had been galloping at full speed the instant he’d first seen Senior Iverson in his doorway. His legs gave out, and Ronin caught him before he could slither to the floor.

“Get those cuffs off him, right now.”

Key jangled, and Kell flinched away from the guard who released him. With his wrists free, Kell sagged into Ronin’s embrace and stopped fighting the tremors racing up and down his spine.

“Give us some privacy, please,” Ronin said. “He’s not a danger to me, I promise you.”

“All right,” the guard said. “I’ve got a report to write on this incident anyway.”

The door shut again, and it only made Kell shake harder. Ronin’s arms tightened around him, his scent enveloping all Kell’s senses. Ronin smelled like safety and comfort, with a hint of coffee, too. Fingers combed slowly through Kell’s hair, while another hand rubbed circles on his back.

“Did he hurt you?” Ronin whispered.

“Terrified me. I hate him.”

“He never should have been allowed to see you, especially not without an officer present. Someone will be held accountable.”

“No, they won’t.” Kell pressed his forehead into the side of Ronin’s neck, soaking in the heat of his skin and faint scent of shaving soap. “Senior Iverson has money and power. I’m a worthless omega.”

“Hey, no.” Ronin tried to tilt Kell’s head up, but Kell resisted looking the alpha in the eyes. “You have so much value, Kell, I swear. You have value to Braun and Tarek. You have value to me.”

Kell wrenched his chin away. “I’m your client.”

“You were my friend first.”

“That was a lifetime ago.”

“I care about you now,” Ronin said. “I care about you, and I promise no one will hurt you like that again.”

A new jolt of terror made his gut clench. “You can’t promise that when I go to prison.”

“If.”

I almost believe him when he says it.

They sat like that for a while, until the adrenaline rush died off and Kell’s body stopped shaking. Ronin helped him sit in his chair again, and then left for two bottles of water. Kell watched the door without blinking the entire thirty seconds or so Ronin was gone, because he no longer trusted his own safety in this place. Senior Iverson got to him once; he’d find a way to get to him again, even if it wasn’t in person.

Instead of staying on his side of the table, Ronin dragged his chair over to sit next to Kell. He twisted the cap off a water bottle and handed it to Kell, making sure his grip held before letting go.

“Thank you,” Kell said.

“I hate that that family is still hurting you.” Ronin uncapped his water, but didn’t drink. He still looked furious, and that lingering anger made Kell nervous.

“With Krause gone, the Iverson line ends. He won’t stop until I’m dead.”

Ronin placed a heavy, comforting hand on his thigh. “And that isn’t going to happen for a very, very long time, do you hear me? The dead part. I’ll do something about the harassment.”

Kell wanted to believe him about those things, but he was all out of optimism. Senior Iverson had gotten to him today. One of these days, the guard serving the breakfast tray would arrive to find him dead in his cell.

I’ll be lucky to make it to trial.

“What are we talking about today?” Kell asked, desperate for a distraction from his depressing thoughts. “Did you talk to Scully?”

“I’ve left two messages, but he hasn’t returned my calls yet. If I haven’t heard from him by the end of the week, I may employ Tarek as a private investigator. It isn’t as if he’s working on anything else.”

“Okay.” Kell wasn’t clear on exactly why Tarek had been suspended, only that it had something to do with the eleven omegas who’d first been rescued from a halfway house supervisor who was abusing and selling them, and then with their disappearance from a hospital isolation ward. Kell suspected Braun was also involved somehow, but he hadn’t managed a private enough conversation with his brother to verify anything.

“I’d like to begin piecing together everything that happened the day Krause died. I know these aren’t comfortable memories, but it helps to establish a timeline of events as you can best recall them, as well as your emotional state that day.”

Kell fiddled with his water bottle, swirling the cool drops on its sides with his fingers. “I’ve been grieving my son since he was taken from me. Crying fits, sleeping a lot, unwilling to get out of bed, really.”

“That’s understandable. You had no idea Krause was adopting your son out?”

“None.” Grief tightened his chest. “I put him to bed in his crib, then went to take a nap. When I woke up he was gone, so I assumed a servant had taken him. No one would say a word, so I sought out Krause. When he told me, I exploded. It was the first time I’d ever raised my voice to him, much less spoken back.” Kell’s insides seized with the pain of that day. “He punched me in the face and stomach, then dragged me upstairs to our bedroom, where he fucked me until I bled.

“I sobbed for hours afterward, until I had enough sense to call Braun. I never imagined he was in heat, or that he’d actually come to the house, but he did. He risked his own body to come see me.”

“I’ve heard about that incident from Braun and Tarek,” Ronin said gently. “What do you remember?”

“It’s all such a blur.” Braun screaming for help had seared itself into Kell’s memory. “Krause walked in on Braun trying to comfort me. He could scent Braun was nearly in heat, and he made lewd comments about another omega who’d come to his bed. Braun tried to defend us both, but Krause hit him in the stomach so Braun couldn’t breathe, and then dragged him out of the room. He locked me in. All I heard was the shouting. Thumps. Braun screaming. I was devastated for Braun until I heard Tarek.”

Kell had wept with relief at the sound of Tarek’s enraged voice, there to save his omega. He’d taken Braun home and protected him, while Kell’s life descended into a waking nightmare. “After that, I was hysterical to the point of mania. I think Krause started drugging my tea, because everything suddenly went swirly and distant. I remember when he’d hit me, but not the actual pain, and I remember him fucking me whenever he felt like it, but not how much I knew it hurt. It all became this horrible, tangled mess in my head.

“But the day Krause…died, he must have stopped drugging me, or simply forgotten, because I had a violent headache that morning. Spent it in bed. Later in the day, Krause came upstairs and wanted sex. He was trying to make it hurt, make me bleed, and I complained. I begged him stop, because I was exhausted and in pain, but he didn’t stop. He punched me in the ribs until I couldn’t breathe, and I endured until he came, like I always do. Did.”

The firm hand on his thigh disappeared, and Kell’s heart fell to the floor. Of course Ronin wouldn’t want to comfort him, knowing what had been done to him relentlessly by his mate. Kell’s only value as an omega was being able to conceive and bear children, and he’d failed in that capacity for years. He’d likely fail again during any future heat. He had nothing to offer Ronin, not even in friendship.

He hazarded a glance at Ronin’s face. Shock rippled through him. Ronin’s expression was of barely controlled rage, and he was glaring at his briefcase like it had personally offended him. He didn’t seem angry at Kell, though, not directly. It wasn’t possible Ronin was angry for Kell…was it?

Braun and Tarek being angry on his behalf made sense, but he’d known Ronin for less than two days.

You’ve known him ten years, ever since he saved you the first time.

Kell took a risk in finishing his story. “Krause was angry that he hadn’t made me bleed that time, so he said he’d find a way. He left the room. Everything after that is a blank.”

Ronin growled softly, as if he knew some detail about those missing hours that he wasn’t sharing. Kell decided he didn’t want to know; ignorance was, in some cases, truly bliss. He had enough horrible memories of his mate to deal with, as it was.

“I don’t remember killing Krause,” Kell said, when Ronin remained silent. “It’s possible I did, but I simply don’t remember. All I remember are my emotions. Anger. Fear. Helplessness. Knowing one day he’d probably beat me to death in that bed, and he’d get away with it.”

Ronin gripped the edge of the table so hard his knuckles turned white. Kell scooted his chair away, terrified of the naked anger rolling off the bigger man, because with anger came fists. With fists came pain, and Kell was exhausted of being in pain.

“I’m sorry,” Kell whispered, even though the words had never stopped the pain before.

Ronin’s head snapped in his direction, and Kell quailed under the force of his anger. But something odd happened. Instead of lashing out, Ronin visibly calmed down. Hands loosening their grip, shoulders hunching, frown flattening. Ronin had controlled his temper.

Kell had never seen such a thing before.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, little one,” Ronin said. “Nothing. I’m not angry with you, I’m infuriated with Krause and how he treated you. No one, omega or otherwise, deserves to live in fear of his own mate.”

Kell’s heart swooped in an odd way. “Oh.”

“You don’t ever have to fear me, Kell, I promise. And I will promise it again and again, until you believe it to be true.”

“You may have to repeat yourself often. I’m not used to being treated well by alphas.”

“I know. And I want to change that experience for you so badly. All I can do is offer my friendship and support.”

“It’s more than most people would offer. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Ronin opened his briefcase and produced a stack of papers. “Your account of the day matches with what I’ve learned so far from the staff I’ve interviewed. Your general weakness in the days leading up to the death, as well as your complaints of a headache that morning. Pleas and cries from behind your bedroom door.” He rolled his neck, popping several vertebrae. “I can’t get over those people hearing that and doing nothing to stop it.”

“They were paid well to ignore anything to do with my abuse,” Kell said. “And as I said before, turnover was high. At least betas have some sense of decency and chose to leave, rather than endure Krause’s verbal abuse.”

They were able to leave, while I had nowhere to run to.

An unexpected flash of hatred heated Kell’s chest. He’d never hated those beta staff members who’d left before this moment. Never thought that they could have told someone what was happening in that house, but they chose to forget, instead. He hated all of them, but Scully in particular, for being falsely supportive, and then doing nothing.

“I hate them,” Kell whispered.

“You hate who?”

“Everyone who ever saw what Krause was doing to me and said nothing to anyone. Maybe it wouldn’t have helped, but there would have at least been complaints on record to help our case. No one said anything.”

“You’re right about that. I did a search, and there have never been any civil or criminal complaints lodged against Krause. The only thing that names him is the complaint he filed against Braun.”

Kell groaned. “I hate that I lied about that.”

“I’m assuming Krause forced you to lie via threats?”

“He told me he’d have Braun killed, and I believed him, so I lied about what happened. I agreed with Krause’s version of events and blamed it all on Braun.” His stomach twisted with guilt. “The prosecutor will use that against me.”

“He’ll try, which is why I’ll establish a history of Krause using threats and coercion to get what he wanted. We still have a lot of hard work to do, Kell, and a lot of painful memories to talk about in order to do that.”

“I know.”

Kell was dreading the coming days for that very reason. But maybe sharing all his worst secrets with someone else, instead of keeping them inside, would help exorcise some of his own demons. Maybe releasing some of the poison would allow a few of his old, aching wounds to heal.

Please.