27 gray’s interlude
I’ve never been in a jail cell before. A lot of people look at me and assume I had a rough, bad boy sort of youth, but I was actually pretty clean cut.
And then I joined the military, where I learned to do all sorts of terrible things, but they were all either explicitly or implicitly sanctioned by the US Army.
I’ve been in here for a couple of hours since the cops pulled me off a bloodied but still conscious Frank and hauled me in here.
I don’t care to repeat the experience. The place smells like piss and vomit, just like I expected, and there’s only a single metal bench to sit on.
The aches and pains I accumulated during the fight have really set in, and I would love to take my middle-aged ass home and lie down, instead of sitting here waiting to see my fate.
Well, that’s a lie. I wouldn’t go home. I would go find Tanner and make sure he’s alright, but I can’t let myself think about that or I risk losing my temper and making everything worse.
At least I’m in my own holding cell and not crammed in with drunks and petty criminals waiting to try my patience.
I get special treatment because of my reputation in this town and the fact that I went to school with a lot of the older cops here, which isn’t fair, but I’m too exhausted to care right now.
I need to get out of here, but they haven’t told me shit. I’m just waiting.
Waiting. It’s starting to feel like that’s all I do lately.
Wait for Tanner to talk to me. Wait for Tanner to need me. Waiting for Tanner to give me one look with those big, sad eyes so I can fall all over myself to run to him.
It would be embarrassing, a grown man mooning over a college student, but I’m way past caring about that.
Tanner has shown me how special he is in a hundred different ways, and life continues to give him a raw deal.
If I need to wait around a little so he has one goddamn person in his corner, so be it.
It’s not like I have anything better to do.
This might be the best thing I’ve ever done, at the end of it all. There’s no telling what Frank is capable of doing to his own son if there’s no one to keep him in check.
The image of Frank with his hands wrapped around Tanner’s throat floats back into my brain, and I shove it away with an audible growl.
I’ve worked for years to get control of my anger and capacity for violence, and part of me is frustrated that I let myself slip.
But after spending this much time watching Frank tear his boy apart, unable to intervene because Tanner was convinced it wasn’t that bad, and I was primed to explode.
I thought if I was patient enough, I could show Tanner how he deserved to be treated. He would get further and further away from Frank’s influence and gradually realize he deserves better. He just needed a safe space, and I was his only option. It was meant to be a simple act of compassion.
I never meant to fall in love with him. It shouldn’t have been a possibility, but here we are.
I start box breathing, because I have no other distractions, and staying calm is the only thing that’s going to get me out of here quickly.
Finally, I hear a jangle of keys. This is a small-town jail and it hasn’t been updated since the sixties, so the old-fashioned key-locked bars are making me feel like Paul Newman.
“Congratulations, Gray. You’re free to go,” the deputy says as he unlocks my cell.
I can’t stop myself from stretching, hearing a couple of my joints pop as I stand up. My fist throbs with the movement, and I don’t even bother trying to straighten my fingers.
“Thanks, Arnie,” I tell him. “Did somebody bail me out?”
“Frank’s boy tried, actually, but he came just in time. Down at the ER Frank told his story, says he was the one who hurt the boy and you were just defending him. Insists it’s all a family matter and the law doesn’t need to get involved. I spoke to the DA and explained the situation,
in light of your history in this town and service to the country he decided not to pursue charges on you and let the whole thing go.”
Again, it’s a privilege I probably don’t deserve. But I’m too distracted to care, because if Tanner came to bail me out, that means he’s in this building and he’s okay. My need to see him and check for myself is so intense, it feels like my cells could burst with it.
“Tanner’s here?” I ask Arnie as I follow him down the narrow hallway to the exit.
“Hmm?” he asks, turning back to look at me briefly.
“Oh no, not Tanner. The omega—” and don’t think I don’t notice the slight sneer in his voice as he says it, “—is in the ICU. Really got his bell rung. Frank is on his way to this cell as soon as he’s finished getting patched up,
and he’s looking at felony assault and battery if the kid’s injuries are as bad as it seems.”
My heart sinks. I feel like I’m going to be sick. There are a thousand more questions on my tongue, but I know he won’t have the answers, so I keep quiet. At least Frank’s getting what he fucking deserves, for once.
We get to the final door, but Arnie stops and turns to give me a once over.
“Can’t say we’ve had a DV case with a male omega before in Ashfall. Seems like years since there’s even been a male omega in town.”
He lets his eyes travel up and down my bruised, sweaty body, and it’s enough to communicate that he knows exactly what led to this fight, and is judging me for it accordingly.
“Don’t know how any of that really works. The DA is taking it real serious, though. Doesn’t want people thinking the town discriminates, or whatnot.”
“Of course,” I murmur, hoping he doesn’t catch my tone.
We don’t have time to get to all that. But this town failed Tanner long before he ever presented, and appropriately prosecuting his father for nearly killing him isn’t going to make a damn bit of difference in what’s already happened.
I don’t tell him that because I need to get out of here and find out how bad Tanner’s injuries really are. I’m starting to sweat, my hands shaking a little, at the thought of him lying all alone in an ICU.
Arnie pushes open the door to the main lobby, and I realize the one thing that doesn’t add up.
“If Tanner’s in the ICU, then who came to bail me out?”
My timing is perfect, because just as I say it, Arnie points across the room to Atlas, who is leaning against a support pillar with his arms crossed over his chest.
I didn’t have the chance to really notice Atlas in all the chaos before. I saw him with Tanner as the cops dragged me away, and that was about it. Tanner’s told me a lot about him, of course. It sounds like they’re close, and Atlas has been a real source of support for him recently.
But I also know that Tanner never told him about us. And Atlas might love his brother, but sometimes love only goes so far. I have no way to know how much of Frank has made it into his youngest son.
Atlas is a little taller than Tanner, and he has the kind of muscle mass and definition I had in my early years of service, which means I know how much effort it takes.
Tanner is in good shape, but good shape for a normal person.
Their contrasting builds really show the difference those alpha and omega hormones can make, I guess, because the rest of them is nearly identical.
If someone told me they were twins, I’d believe them.
The same pale skin and green eyes. The same slight curve to the jaw and round face.
The same dark hair, although Tanner’s is perpetually a mess, like he’s three weeks overdue for a haircut and keeps running his hands through it, while Atlas has a military-issued high and tight.
Another difference is that Tanner always looks at me with a certain softness.
Even when he’s angry at me. We’re still drawn to each other, and have been since the moment I walked into that BBQ.
But Atlas is leaning back, arms crossed over his chest, looking me up and down with the same evaluatory expression that Arnie wore.
I don’t look away or back down. He can think whatever he wants about me or my intentions. I’m the one who was here when Tanner needed someone.
He must not find whatever he’s looking for, though, because after a moment, his face relaxes, and a lot of the tension slips out of his body.
The exhaustion is still there, but that’s not surprising.
Me too. Atlas shrugs himself away from the pillar and walks towards me, his hand outstretched but low, in a relaxed introduction.
“I’ve heard a lot about you,” he says, smiling a little with one corner of his mouth. “But not as much as I should have. I’m Atlas.”
“Gray,” I respond, shaking his hand with a firm grip. “Thanks for breaking up the fight and getting the ambulance. I’m surprised you came to bail me out, though.”
“Yeah, well Tanner would have had my ass if I didn’t.”
There’s no disguising the sadness that crosses his features at the mention of his brother’s name, and I’m opening my mouth to ask how he is when Atlas looks around us and then tosses his head toward the exit.
“We’ll talk in the truck. Why don’t you grab your shit and meet me outside.”
I nod because he’s right. These cops already know more than they should about Tanner’s life, I don’t want to give them any more gossip.
It only takes a few minutes to process me out. I didn’t have a damn thing on me except my jeans when they arrested me, so they don’t have anything to give me, and I walk out of there empty-handed and wearing a ripped up, oversized t-shirt from the lost and found over my blood-spattered pants.
Outside, I see Atlas leaning against a boxy little pickup and we both pile inside. It isn’t until he’s pulled out and gotten us onto the main road through town that either of us speaks.
“I’m taking you home. You need to shower all that alpha stink off, and the ICU isn’t letting anybody in to see Tanner yet. I rode there with him in the ambulance, but I haven’t seen him since.”
“Is he okay?” I ask in a small, almost childlike voice.
I know the answer. Nobody goes into the ICU with no visitors because they’re fine.
Atlas hesitates before he speaks.