Chapter 8 #2
“Fuck.” Tarius’s hand slid around the back of his neck and squeezed. Branson pressed into the touch. “You said Jeuel’s step-omegin died in the…what? Shoot-out? What about his birth omegin?”
Papa nodded, his copper eyes so sad that Branson wanted to sob. “Their omegin Presley passed a few years after Cal. Charles re-mated. It’s messy, son.”
Branson took the fax papers with trembling hands, not surprised when Tarius leaned in to read over his shoulder.
The headlines made his belly swoop in a horrified way.
Shootout Between Constables and Rival Crime Bosses.
Local Authorities Try to Prevent Assassination; Cause Bloodbath.
Two Constables Shot Protecting Crime Boss’s Family.
“Goddess,” Branson whispered. He skimmed the articles but there weren’t many details, only that the local constabulary had been staking out the Alder home for several weeks, because of ongoing violence between his group, and another group that had been rivals for years.
Both ran Flax and other illegal drugs, and both smuggled weapons from legal manufacturers in the Northern Territory to warring factions in the Southern Territory.
It was a lot of information that didn’t really matter to Branson.
What mattered was he had an omega brother who’d been hurt and terrorized because of his sire’s business—and that he had two other brothers who’d died before he knew they existed.
A few tears tried to squeeze out, but that well was dry.
All Branson had left was a hollow feeling in his chest and a deep ache in his heart.
He tried to make sense of everything tumbling around in his head. “So, Jeuel is unprotected, because his only living, non-omega relative is in a coma?”
“Correct,” Papa replied, his own eyes glistening with emotion. “Jeuel and Trei were placed in the same halfway house for orphaned or widowed omegas, with the constabulary keeping watch.”
“Keeping watch? If their sire was involved in organized crime, they should be in protective custody! Goddess!”
“I spoke directly with an investigating constable, and he does not believe there is an immediate threat to either omega’s life. Apparently, the shoot-out killed the other organization’s leader and lieutenant, so they’re scrambling for power, and not that interested in revenge against two omegas.”
Branson grumped. “I guess that’s something. But how did Mr. Paxton know to contact me? How did Jeuel find out Charles is Chip?”
“Because Charles told him. The last time Jeuel visited with Charles while he was conscious, Charles told him that Jeuel has family in Sansbury Province, that his name used to be Chip Uty, and to look for a man named Branson Cross.” Rage flashed briefly in Papa’s eyes.
“That you were his brother. Charles’s firstborn. ”
“I’m surprised he even remembered I exist.” Branson dropped the news articles and wrapped his arms around himself. “Considering he gave me up twenty-four years ago and moved across the entire damned territory to start a new family.”
But as angry as he was, Branson was also so fucking grateful.
Sure, his biological sire had signed away his rights and fled town, but he’d left Branson with parents who adored him, and a supportive family who’d always had his back.
Uty/Alder hadn’t tried to take Branson away from Dad.
He’d avoided prosecution and started over—apparently as a criminal of a wholly different kind.
“And then he got his new family killed,” Tarius said, mirroring Branson’s thoughts. “By making more poor choices. You have a brother you can still help, Bran.”
“I know.” He accepted a firm hug from Tarius, then he faced Papa. “So, what do I have to do? Can betas take custody of underage omegas in Sonora Province?”
“Unfortunately, no. They are still woefully behind on omega rights, which is why we’ve advanced our argument for it to the Territory Supreme Court. So the Traditionalist-held provinces must offer the same protections to omegas as Progressive provinces.”
Branson’s greatest pride was how fervently his parents fought for omega rights, both in Sansbury and across the territory.
He’d seen omegas in his own generation, like Khory Danvers, come from backward provinces like Rolina, and be completely baffled by how different life was here.
How many more choices omegas like Khory had.
“Then what am I supposed to do for Jeuel?” Branson asked.
“Mr. Paxton is aware that Sansbury has provisions for betas to foster orphaned omegas for as long as the arrangement is comfortable,” Papa replied. “He believes a local family court judge would take that into consideration.”
“Yeah, but that provision is for married beta couples, not single people.”
“True, however, you are an adult, you are financially independent with a strong family support system, and you have younger siblings. You have experience with children of all ages. And you know how to be careful around traumatized omegas. You’ve proven that, over and over, these last couple of years. ”
“But does Jeuel really want to uproot the life he knows and move to the far east of the territory with someone he’s never met? Because I’m absolutely not moving there.”
“Branson, the life Jeuel knew was shattered by bullets six days ago. He doesn’t have anywhere to go back to.
And I doubt he would have taken the time to hire a lawyer to find and serve you if he didn’t want to come here.
Mr. Paxton said Jeuel is ready to start over.
In fact, he agreed to set up a video-call between you and Jeuel this afternoon. ”
Branson’s heart gave a heavy lurch. “Really?”
“Yes. At two-thirty, our time.”
Goddess, that was in less than two hours. “Okay. Fine, let’s talk. But I still need one thing, Papa, to know this is real.”
“DNA tests?”
“Yes.”
“Already in progress. The hospital still had a sample of your DNA on file. It’s on an express train and heading their way. We should have the results by the start of the new week.”
Damned weekend. Not counting the day or so an express train would take to get there, all the labs would be closed for the Solstice holiday. “So, step one is talking to Jeuel, and step two is waiting on the DNA results. If the results say we’re related…what’s next?”
“We work with Mr. Paxton on a case we can present to a judge arguing why you, as his next of kin, are the best choice of guardian for Jeuel.”
“What about Charles? Chip? Whatever. Him. What if he wakes up from his coma?”
Papa shook his head. “His prognosis is bad. Given the extent of his injuries and the damage to his internal organs…he’s unlikely to ever wake up.”
Branson closed his eyes, uncertain why that made his heart ache.
He had no affection for Charles/Chip; in fact, he had a lot of deep-seated hatred for the violent alphahole, for all the horrible things he’d done to Dad.
But he resented the idea that he’d never be able to look his sire in the eyes, never be able to tell him what Branson actually thought of him. He’d never get that satisfaction.
Not that he’d ever expected to have the chance until twelve hours ago, but now he couldn’t un-ring that bell.
“I’m impressed Jeuel is put together enough to even think to contact you for custody,” Tarius said softly. “If I lost a brother and a step-parent so violently, I’d be a mess for weeks.”
“Some people are better at hiding their trauma than others,” Papa replied. “I imagine Jeuel is going to need a lot of love and support.”
Branson grunted. “Especially if his sire was as horrible to Jeuel as he was to Dad.” Papa’s left eye twitched. “What?”
“When Mr. Paxton and Jeuel talked about his home life, Jeuel spoke very fondly of his sire and his step-omegin Dario. He said he always felt loved and cared for, even though there was often a threat because of his sire’s business.
According to Jeuel, Charles or Chip, was a very good parent.
” Papa’s scowl betrayed how much he hated saying that out loud.
“So what? He left Sansbury and turned over a new leaf? Stopped being a cruel rapist and became a loving father to three kids? Two of whom are dead?” Even saying the words made Branson’s insides recoil and his mouth sour.
Chip didn’t deserve those kids, and it hit Branson all over again that he had two siblings he’d never get to meet.
Never speak to or touch. He didn’t know how to process that, so he pushed it down.
“I don’t know how or if Uty changed, only what Mr. Paxton relayed to me.
” Papa’s hands jerked, like he wanted to reach across the table for Branson, but he refrained.
“No matter what happens next, Branson, I am on your side. Dad is on your side. Your brothers will be on your side when you’re ready to tell them what’s going on. ”
“I know. Did you, um, learn anything else I need to know?”
“Not much more, no. I don’t know anyone personally down in Sonora, and Mr. Paxton isn’t directly involved in the criminal investigation, since Jeuel is a witness and not a suspected participant.
I might be able to get Karter to make some calls on my behalf, but I can’t do that without telling him why. ”
Karter Jenks was a long-time family friend and a Senior Constable. Karter’s mate Jax was one of Dad’s dearest friends. Branson trusted the mated pair with his life, but he wasn’t sure about sharing this secret with anyone else yet.
“I want to speak with Jeuel first,” Branson said.
“All right. We’ll have to do the tele-call in my office. I’ve got the video conference interface there. You’ll be able to speak face to face.”
“Fine. Two-thirty?”
“Yes.”
“We’ll be there.” He glanced at Tarius, who nodded yes. “We’ll meet you over there, Papa. Just you.”
“Fair. Take care of him, Tarius.”
“I will,” Tarius replied.
Papa left all his papers and walked toward the apartment door.
Once it clicked shut behind him, Branson turned and wrapped his arms around Tarius’s waist. He melted into his boyfriend’s firm, comforting embrace and shook for a while, allowing negative emotions to roll through him in chilly waves of grief and anger and confusion.
“Should I let Papa call Karter?” he asked Tarius’s shoulder.
“That’s your choice, Bran. I think waiting until you talk to Jeuel is a good idea. You can hear everything from his mouth, so you know for sure what he wants. You can judge his intentions for yourself.”
“I wonder if he looks like me.” While he would always have his omegin’s green eyes, Branson saw less of Kell in his reflection as he got older.
No one else in the family had a chin dimple, and his hair was different than his siblings.
Much straighter, and it didn’t curl when it got long, unlike the twins.
Tarius squeezed the back of his neck. “He’d be so lucky to look like you. You’re gorgeous.”
“You’re biased.”
“And yet not wrong.” Tarius eased him back so he could press a soft kiss to Branson’s mouth. “We’ve got a little over an hour before we need to leave for the office. Do you feel like grabbing something simple for lunch?”
“Not really, but I should. I’m scared, Tar.”
“Scared of what?”
“Of liking him. Of wanting to help him. Of blowing up my life here and hurting the twins. Of causing Dad pain by bringing the offspring of his rapist into our lives.”
“Hey.” Tarius cupped Branson’s cheeks in his palms and held him steady, eyes locked and full of sympathy and understanding. “You’re the offspring of his rapist, and he loves you with his entire soul. Do you really think he’d judge another child for something that can’t be helped?”
“No, of course not.” Branson hadn’t considered that, and he appreciated the reality check while his own brain refused to think logically.
“We both know your omegin would be the first in line to help another omega in trouble, no matter who his parents are. You can’t blame the child for the sins of the parent.
Look at your friends. Peyton and Layne and Aeron and Karson.
The Lee siblings. Their sires were rapists, but your friends are all wonderful people, living full, happy lives. ”
“I know. You’re right about our parents’ sins. But what if I can’t help Jeuel? What if the judge decides I can’t be Jeuel’s guardian, because I’m an unmarried beta? What if we get his hopes up, and he has to stay all the way out there in Sonora?”
“Then we do everything in our power to convince the judge you’re the best, most stable option for Jeuel.”
Branson grunted. “So, I win the judge over with my sparkling personality?”
“No, with your honor, your integrity, and your clean record. Your parents are amazing role models. Your uncle has been the mayor for multiple terms.”
“But you work in the court system. Will all that matter if the judge is a Traditionalist? If he goes, whelp, sorry son, you’ve got good credentials, but you need a husband.”
Tarius’s eyes narrowed briefly before his expression settled into a confident half-smile. “Then let’s get married.”