Alex got through the next few days, but he had no idea how he managed it. He heard from Carsten once, but not because of any specific danger. Carsten was panicking, because he’d been through a major trauma and kids were allowed to panic when they’d been through a major trauma.

He considered recommending a therapist, but there was no way Sol would actually do it. Guys like Sol didn’t do therapy. They didn’t admit that they had issues, or that their kids had issues. They gave other people problems, they didn’t have problems of their own.

In an ideal situation, Carsten would have another parent to help soothe him through the trauma. Carsten’s trauma involved his other parent. Inge clearly loved the kid, but she herself was traumatized. To his credit, Sol seemed to be doing what he could for the kid, but he was just one guy and he had a busy schedule of his own.

Alex wanted to reach out and offer to help. Everything in him screamed at him to reach out and take care of Carsten, to make sure the poor kid knew he was safe and loved. Alex knew, better than anyone else in Carsten’s life, what it was like to witness a trauma like that and to feel alone and unsafe in the world. He had a lot to offer.

The only catch was that it wasn’t his place. He wasn’t Carsten’s dad, or stepdad, or nanny, or teacher, or hallway monitor, or what-the-hell-ever—Alex was the cook. Carsten didn’t look at Alex with the contempt most people of his class did, but he would eventually. That wouldn’t stop Alex from helping him now, but he knew it just wouldn’t be allowed.

He could just picture calling Sol. Hey, I know you see me as the piece of tail that got away, and that you never saw me as good enough to actually parent your kids, but I’ve got a lot to offer your good and pure blueblood kid.

On the plus side, that call might get Sol to stop trying to get into his pants.

On the down side, that call might get Sol to stop trying to get into his pants.

He shook his head at himself. He shouldn’t be thinking of Sol at all. It was about Carsten. Sol wasn’t part of the equation, and he shouldn’t be. Alex had already been burned by Sol once. He shouldn’t be thinking about that kiss, or how much he’d wanted more. He shouldn’t be thinking about how seeing Sol with Carsten turned him on—good fathers were kind of a thing with Alex.

The more time he spent in the quiet of his apartment, though, the more he thought about it. So on Wednesday, he headed over to Buddy’s. He took Maya with him, of course. She liked the neon lights and activity of the bar, and if she got fussy or needed a change he could always take her up to Buddy’s office. All Alex knew was that he needed to get out of the house.

Just as he’d expected, Maya snuggled right into her carrier and went to sleep as soon as she recognized her surroundings. Her parents had both worked here, and of course she stayed with Buddy during the day, so the bar was kind of her natural environment. “I think this is as much her home as anyplace else,” Buddy told him with a grin.

Alex relaxed a little bit into his bar stool. When he was here, he could remember who he was. He didn’t miss Sol when he was at Buddy’s. “She’s not the only one.” He let his gaze dart around the familiar old bar. “I have no idea where I’d be if not for you, Buddy.”

“Probably as an executive chef somewhere. Pulling down some serious green, too.” Buddy chuckled.

“Hey, how’s her big brother doing?” Alex leaned a little closer. “Any word?”

“Not really. Little improvements, but it’s slow.” He sighed and bowed his head. “It’s at the wait and see stage, you know?”

“Yeah. I get it.” Alex grimaced. He was already getting too attached to Maya. He wanted to know about the long term arrangements for her before it became impossible for him to give her up.

Just then, the door to the bar swung open to admit the cool November air. Alex turned just like everyone to see who’d intruded on their cozy little retreat. Unlike everyone else, he recognized the intruder.

Alden Delaney was on the tall side, probably about Alex’s own height, and lean. His face had the pinched look of someone who disapproved of enjoyment in any form, like that eagle puppet from the kids’ show, and his thin lips twisted as he took in the crowd at Buddy’s. His overall image wasn’t helped by his high, tight collar or the dark necktie he wore. It looked like a noose.

One of the guys at the other end of the bar burst out laughing. He even pointed at Alden, lest someone think he was laughing at someone else. “Oh, my god, it’s an undertaker worm!”

A few other local toughs joined in the laughter. Even Alex had to snicker at that. He’d never thought of Alden that way before, but now that one of his fellow bar patrons had mentioned it he couldn’t unsee it.

Alden caught sight of Alex, sneered, and strode over to him. “I could buy this bar and everyone in it.” He plunked himself down on the barstool beside him.

“You could try.” Alex shrugged and took a sip of his French martini. “You might find it more challenging than you’d expect, but hey. It could be fun to watch, so have at it.” He smirked and met Buddy’s eyes.

Buddy wrinkled his nose at Alden, but got to mixing him a cocktail. For a second, Alex couldn’t understand how Buddy could possibly know what Alden would want, but then he remembered. Of course Buddy knew. Buddy had worked at the Hellion Club, back when he’d been young.

Not that Alden remembered. When Buddy slid him a Black Pepper Gibson, Alden all but jumped off the bar stool in shock. “Who are you? Have you been stalking me?”

“Don’t be an ass, Alden. He used to work at the Hellion Club.” Alex rolled his eyes. “I’m sure you didn’t come all the way up here for the ambiance.”

Alden settled back onto his stool and wrapped his hand around the stem of his glass. “I shouldn’t be surprised to see you in a place like this, Cary. It’s grimy. Seedy. The people in it are low lifes and probably sell drugs.”

“I don’t ask to see anyone’s resumé.” Alex took a sip of his drink. He refused to answer Alden’s accusations about the other people in the bar. Some of them were low lifes. He knew the place wasn’t grimy, though. He mopped it himself sometimes. “If it’s not your kind of place, maybe you should pay for your drink and go to Hell.”

A couple of guys nearby snickered. Two spots of red appeared in Alden’s cheeks and his eyes narrowed, but he stayed where he was.

“It’s come to my attention that you’ve been hanging around Solomon’s home.”

Alex rolled his eyes back into his head. “Your point?”

“He belongs to someone else. And he was never going to be yours.”

Alex put his drink down. “Then it shouldn’t be a problem for me to do the job I was hired to do, should it?”

“Why did you break my friend’s arm?” Alden put a hand on Alex’s arm. “What gave you the right?”

Buddy grabbed Alden’s arm, face cold. “This ain’t the Hellion Club, buddy. You’re in the Bronx now. You keep your hands to yourself unless you want to lose them.”

Alden’s lips twitched, but he took his hand off of Alex. “You had no right to put your hands on Lena Fletcher or to involve the police in a family matter. You shouldn’t have been in the house at all. But here we are.”

“She stabbed the nanny. She tried to stab me. Bad things happen to stabby people, Alden. It’s the twenty-first century. Even rich people don’t get to go stabbing the help at will.” Alex picked up his drink again. “Do you mind? It’s only Maya doesn’t like conflict, and you’re pissing me off.”

“You think you’re good enough to marry my son, but you go dragging innocent children into dive bars like this.” The wrinkles on Alden’s face increased exponentially as he pulled back in disgust. “Do you even know who her father is?”

“I know who her father is. I know who her mother is. I know her mother’s in a coma, thanks to her father, and that she’s more comfortable here than anyplace else. So you and your judgement can just go for a swim in the Hudson.” He waved his hand toward the door. “Shoo. Don’t let the door hit your ass on the way out.”

Alden slapped his hand down on the bar in rage. “I will not be pushed aside. I came here to talk some sense into you! I demand that you stay the hell away from my son!”

“Hey!” Alex gave his adversary a bright, cheesy smile. “If he were a minor, and not in his thirties, you could enforce that! As it is, you’re keeping people against whom he has a restraining order in your house. You’re trying to trick him into showing up at your house and getting ambushed.”

“That’s a private family matter. You’re not part of our family.”

“Thank Christ.” Alex shook his head and took a gulp from his drink. “You know, it’s bad enough I spent a good part of my weekend dealing with your family drama. I come here to relax and get a break from your family crap, and what do you do? You come all the way here to bring me more of it.”

“You were always jealous of us. You wanted our money, our power.” Alden leaned into Alex’s personal space. “You never could handle your profound insignificance, and you tried to use my son to improve your place in the world. You couldn’t understand that you came from nothing and you are nothing. And when you die, no one will even notice.”

“You know what has to happen for that to be true?” Alex held his temper in and met Alden’s eyes. He could have exploded, or shouted, or thrown a punch although that might be a bad idea with the baby on his chest.

“What?”

“You’d have to go away first.”

Alden howled and brought his hand back to slap Alex, but no one was going to let that happen. Vinnie’s strong hand wrapped around Alden’s wrist, holding it in place no matter what he did. Frank stood on Alden’s other side, and judging by the way Alden’s eyes bulged he was making it very clear that no one threatened the boss’ granddaughter.

And Buddy popped up with a sawed-off shotgun from behind the bar.

“All right. You’ve been told to leave, and you’ve been told you need to keep your hands to yourself. You’re not in Greenwich anymore, Alden.” Buddy kept his tone jovial. “Even if Alex here was sleeping with your maggot of a son, he’d have the right to come in here and do what he wants without being pestered by dirtbags like you. Do you understand?”

“You can’t get away with this.” Alden sputtered as all of the color drained from his face. “This is New York! You can’t just go brandishing guns at people!”

“I think you’ll find they can, Alden.” Alex sipped from his drink, more to keep his cool than anything else now. “Pay the man—slowly—and leave.”

Alden moved so slowly he might have been mocking them, except for the way sweat dripped down his temple. He dropped a hundred dollar bill down on the bar.

“My change?”

Buddy laughed at him. “Are you high?” He jerked his head toward the door, and Vinnie and Frank removed him from the bar.

Alex relaxed once Sol’s father was ejected. “Jesus Christ.” He all but melted into the bar. The baby carrier gave him more stability than his actual skeleton at this point. “I don’t think he’s ever had a gun pulled on him.”

“If he keeps going on like that it’s going to happen more often.” Buddy glared at the door. “He was always a prick. I mean seriously. When I worked at the club, we’d all try to hide when he came in.”

“Can’t imagine why.” Alex shuddered. “I hate that guy. I’m so sorry he came in here.”

“His choice, kid. Not yours.” Buddy waved a finger. “We don’t apologize for other people’s choices. Got it?”

Alex blushed. “Yeah. I do. I just—what do you think set him off? I’ve got like six clients who are Hellion Club members. It’s not like he doesn’t know what I do.”

The guy who’d been sitting on Alden’s other side, a local plumber named Jose, made a face. “Who knows what’s going on in that kind of guy’s head? He’s nuts. But it sounds like he’s got some control crap going on. I did some work for a family like that once.” He made a face and laughed into his drink.

“Seriously?” Buddy put the gun away and refilled Jose’s drink. “What was their deal?”

“Ah, the old man was obsessed with running everything. It was just him, you know? He wanted to be in charge, and his son let him. By the time I came in on the scene, it had gotten pretty bad. The son wouldn’t even paint the house without his dad’s permission, the wife was just fed up and was packing stuff up in boxes. It was kind of pathetic, really.” He gestured toward Alex. “Your guy there? Same thing.”

Alex rubbed at the back of his neck. “Yeah, you’re probably not wrong. I mean I’m not doing anything with the son, you know? That was over a long time ago, but it was over because that old man said so. I don’t need that crap in my life.”

“No you do not.” Buddy gave Alex a dark look. “No alpha is that good that you’ve got to screw around with that kind of crazy.”

Alex winced. “Crass, but accurate. And you’re right—I loved Sol, but I was a kid.” The back of his mind poked him to remind him of the kiss they’d only recently enjoyed. “I’ve got enough going on in my life right now, I don’t need to get involved with his crap. He made his bed, he gets to lie in it. I’ll help Carsten, but that’s it.”

“Good man.” Jose patted him on the shoulder and lifted his glass.

Alex joined in the toast, feeling like the world’s biggest hypocrite.

* * *

Sol figured by Thursday that Carsten and Inge were probably well enough to be left alone in the apartment. He considered calling Alex to come over and keep an eye on them, but that wasn’t Alex’s job. Besides, an alpha didn’t call an omega to come over and keep his family safe. It just wasn’t something that happened.

The Vesuvius’ management company had been absolutely aghast that anyone had gotten upstairs. They’d gone out of their way to change all of the keys and to vet anyone with access, to include building maintenance people. Sol was more confident about the building’s security now, and he could go out and blow off some steam without worrying about what would happen.

His instincts all directed him toward the Bronx and that dive-looking cocktail bar where everyone seemed to know Alex. He didn’t live there, but the people there would know how to find him all the same.

Sol wouldn’t do that. He would wait for Alex to come to him. For one thing, Alex admitted he didn’t have a big place, and he had an infant at home. Sol knew he didn’t have a lot of shame, but there were some lines he wasn’t about to cross.

So he set his sights on the Hellion Club. He could be content with simply getting out among his own kind, relaxing, and being social. He didn’t need to flirt or be flirted with, or more. He just wanted to be able to let his guard down a little bit and feel his jaw unclench.

He entered the club, got rid of his coat and hat, and headed for the bar. The usual omega show was happening up on the stage, but Sol didn’t have eyes for them anymore. He could only think about Alex.

He’d been this way when he’d been forced to split with Alex. It had taken him weeks before he could get it up for anyone else. He hadn’t been proud of that, even though he’d wanted to be. Ten years later and here he was again. Ah well. At least he knew Alex hadn’t moved on.

He was sure Alex hadn’t been celibate since they split. He didn’t want to think about the other men, or even to know about them, but he was sure they must have existed. It wasn’t reasonable to expect that a man like Alex, beautiful and funny and talented, would have been alone for long. If Alex had found a new love, though, someone to be with for the rest of his life, Sol would have been devastated.

What kind of man did that make him, if he’d be devastated to find Alex happy with someone else?

It would have made him human. He’d have made his bed and he’d have had to lie in it, but he’d have still been miserable. Fortunately, Alex was still available. There were obstacles to overcome, such as Alex’s resentment and Alex’s insistence that he wouldn’t be a secret affair, but he was available.

He must have gotten overly absorbed into his musings, because he completely failed to notice his father looming over his table. Dad looked terrible. He was paler than usual, one of his thin lips was split, and he was sporting a shiner that should have been nominated for the book of world records.

Dad dropped into a seat beside Sol and curled his lip, just a little bit. It might have been intended as a smile, or not. With a lip split where it was, it couldn’t have been easy to smile if he wanted to.

Sol wanted to be sympathetic. He did. He also couldn’t forget that his father was housing Lena and possibly Stuart. So he just raised an eyebrow at the old man. “Getting into bar fights at your age? It’s a little late in the day to be picking up that hobby, don’t you think?”

Dad let out a little growl. “Technically the fight was outside the bar. And it wasn’t so much a fight as a beating. I got all of this on your behalf, so you shouldn’t be so flippant.”

Sol drew his eyebrows together in consternation. “On my behalf? Since when do you take a beating for me?”

Dad drained his whiskey in one sitting. “Do you know a bar called Shank Hall?”

Sol froze. “I’ve been there. Once.”

Dad gestured to one of the omega servers, who sashayed over and took his order to refill it. Dad smacked him on the ass as he left, and Sol recoiled a little bit. What if that omega was someone’s? How would his alpha feel about that?

“No son of mine is to set foot in there. That place is a disgusting hive of scum. Would you believe they laughed at me as soon as I walked in? They called me a worm. A worm!”

“They’re not big fans of the Wall Street crowd there, no.” Sol toyed with his cocktail glass. He’d only wanted to relax, and here was his father to wreck it. Ah, well. That was what fathers were for, he supposed. “Why in the world would you go there, Dad? It’s hardly your kind of place.”

“I went there in the hopes of talking some sense into that violent omega skank of yours.” Dad adjusted his tie as the server brought drinks for both him

and Sol. Sol hadn’t ordered another one, but Dad must have ordered one for him. That was like him.

“I see.” Sol pressed his lips together. “Alex did this to you?”

“He might as well have. The bartender there is like a, a trained monkey. I grabbed his wrist, trying to make him see that he doesn’t get to put his hands on family members, never mind break their arms, but he wasn’t having any of that. That bartender apparently used to work here, but I can’t imagine he left on good terms. He told me—me! He told me we weren’t at the Hellion Club, we were in the Bronx, and he’d cut off my hands if I didn’t keep them to myself!”

Sol couldn’t help himself. He snickered. “That sounds like Buddy.”

“You’re on a first name basis with that barbarian?”

“He was kind to Carsten.” Sol shrugged. “Why were you even there? I’m still unclear on this one, Dad. You went to talk to Alex about defending himself from Lena? You know that’s nuts, right? He’s got a right to defend himself. And he came to defend Inge. Lena was a hundred percent in the wrong there.” He considered confronting his father about the people in his house, but decided against it. He didn’t want to make a thing of it, not here and not tonight.

“That’s where you’re incorrect. Lena was there to take her grandson. She has every right to do so. You’re in the wrong to try to keep her and Stuart away from him. And the help has no business getting involved with a custody fight, period.” Dad smacked his arm. “I’ve told you already, you and Stuart are getting back together. I went to too much trouble to get you together for you to just toss it all aside for some piece of Bronx gutter trash.”

Sol narrowed his eyes at his father. “Dad, I’ve told you before. I didn’t leave Stuart because of Alex. I left Stuart because he was creating an unsafe environment for Carsten. Carsten needs to be my priority. Not Stuart, especially since he’s not interested in getting better.”

“Oh come on, Solomon. You don’t think all those other omegas you’ve met are so calm and put together naturally, do you? Stuart’s hardly the first one to get a little chemical help. You need to get off your high horse and do right by that man. It’s not like you have to be faithful.”

Sol rolled his eyes. “It’s not like Stuart ever was. That’s not the point. The point is, that it is my job to keep my son safe. And I’m going to do that job. The courts in California and in New York agreed that Carsten isn’t safe with Stuart or the Fletchers.”

“And they’d be so much more comfortable with a social climbing whore like Alex Cary.” Dad snorted. “Be real. The boy is just using you for your money and your position in the world. Once he’s secure, he’ll take you for everything you have.”

“Even if that were true—and I have no reason to think it is—it would only apply if we were together. He’s a cook, Dad. I went through BSNY, and he was assigned to me. He wasn’t thrilled about it either, so I don’t think you’ve got much to worry about.”

“If I didn’t have much to worry about, he’d have told me so. He’d have agreed to stay away from you, which he didn’t. He was mouthy. He was rude. Then, when I tried to correct him, his friends pulled guns on me, ejected me from the bar, and assaulted me.”

Sol winced. “Did he ask them to?”

“No. He just sat there with that brat strapped to him and sipped his drink. He’s just wretched.” He drained his glass again. “He’s truly vile. He thinks he’s equal to us. You know that, right?”

“He is equal to us.” Sol yawned, but his mind raced. Had Alex really refused to promise to stay away? That should have been a promise he had no problem keeping. He needed to talk to Alex. “And maybe that’s not what you want in a son-in-law, but that’s not his problem. It’s yours. And I’m sorry to hear you got roughed up, but maybe you should think twice before you go into that kind of place and try to throw your weight around.” He smirked. “The clientele isn’t going to be open to that. You’re lucky all they did was throw you out, honestly.”

“We used to be a nation of laws,” Dad fumed, crossing his arms over his chest. He even pouted.

“Talk to me about laws when you stop keeping Stuart and Lena at your house and encouraging them to kidnap my son.” Sol hadn’t intended to show that he knew about their presence in Bronxville, but his temper overrode his inhibition.

“Stop defying me and we can talk about that.” Dad glowered at him.

“This isn’t about bucking you as head of the family. This is about my son and his safety. Nothing comes before that. I’ve made my own money, you can’t hold that over me anymore, so now you want to sit here and threaten to have him kidnapped unless I submit? How does that make you better than the worst kind of criminal?” He shook his head, drained both of his drinks, and walked away.

Damn his father anyway. All Sol wanted was to loosen up after what had been a hellish week. Instead, he’d gotten his father threatening him about Carsten and making all kinds of wild assumptions about Alex. If he’d stayed at the club, he’d have found himself drinking a lot more than was good for him.

He checked on Carsten before he headed to his room. Carsten was asleep, a little smile on his tiny face. He had drawn a picture on his little chalkboard, one of himself standing between Sol and Alex. Inge stood on Sol’s other side.

Inge found him there. Sol padded out of the room quietly after her, and they retreated to the living room. Sol had gotten rid of the chair to which Lena had been bound, and someone had gotten rid of the stain on the carpet. He had no idea how. “He’s no less obsessed with ‘Mr. Alex’ than he was last Saturday,” she reported as they sat down. “I’m not sure how to address this.”

Sol considered the issue, staring at the wall. “Maybe we shouldn’t.”

Inge frowned and chewed on the end of her hair. “Sir, he wants Alex to be part of his family. And I’m fond of Alex. I’d call us friends. But that doesn’t make Alex someone you’re going to marry.”

Sol huffed out a little laugh. “That’s a bit of a leap. Let’s let Carsten get it out of his system on his own. For now, he needs Alex, and Alex seems willing to indulge him.” He ran his hand through his hair. “Alex saw his mother murder his father, when he was maybe eight or so. He knows a lot about coping with trauma as a young child. You could call him an expert, if you wanted to.”

Inge covered her mouth with her good hand. “My God! The poor man.”

Sol nodded, cringing inside. He’d known Alex had no one when he’d abandoned him. “Yes. As I said, he seems willing to be there for Carsten. We shouldn’t look this gift horse in the mouth.”

“Maybe not. I just don’t want to let Carsten get his hopes up. It’s hard for him. I know it is.”

“It is. But he’s a tough kid, a smart one, and he can handle almost anything.” Sol smiled softly. “Thank you, Inge. You’ve already done so much more than you should have had to. Are you feeling okay today? Stitches not bothering you too much?”

She blushed a little. “They itch,” she admitted. “But it’s better than the alternative.”

Sol stood up. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’d never let anyone hurt Carsten.”

Sol headed back to his room and undressed for bed. Once he was under the covers, he grabbed his phone and sent Alex a text. I hear you got a visit last night.

Alex’s response consisted of a single obscenity. Sol laughed and then replied. Was the shiner you or someone else?

I never laid a hand on him. I promise. After a second, Sol’s phone chimed as another text came through. I thought about it, but I never touched him.

I believe it. Sol grinned and looked down at his sheets. Maybe he hadn’t needed to go out to feel better. Maybe all he needed was a few lines of commentary from a hot guy in the Bronx. How’s Maya?

She’s good. Sleeping right now. After a second, another message came through. How’s Carsten?

Sleeping. He’s a good kid.

He is. I thought of him at a client’s place today. They live near your building. He mentioned he was having trouble making friends at school. This client has a kid at Carsten’s school, and they live nearby. Do you maybe want to schedule a playdate for them at the Children’s Zoo or something on Saturday? Hunter’s a year ahead of Carsten, so it might be good for him to be seen with a bigger kid.

How did you get so smart about raising kids, Alex? Sol shook his head as he typed out the words. The plan seemed simple as he read it, but he would never have thought of it on his own.

Nine years of being the new kid in school, at least twice a year. You get a lot of practice. I’ll send your contact info to my client, and you guys can arrange it.

The text came in a little bit later from Dr. Wanda Pope, and Sol worked out a time on Saturday to get the kids together. He couldn’t help but think it would be better with Alex there.