Chapter 16
SIXTEEN
Three weeks of glorious peace passed in the new Higgs/Cross household, with no outbursts, drama, incidents, or even late-winter colds.
Both Branson and Tarius had resumed their normal work schedules, with Branson adjusting his hours slightly and doing more work at home, now that he had a dedicated office.
It allowed him to drop Jeuel off at Papa’s house every morning, where Jeuel spent his time studying for his GED, helping with the triplets, and being with his new family, rather than puttering around the apartment alone.
It also allowed Branson to leave the office by four-thirty to pick up Jeuel, and gave him time to cook dinner (or grab takeout on the way home) for their trio, since Tarius frequently worked until six-thirty, sometimes seven.
It was the compromise they’d created, and it was working.
Branson loved that Jeuel was comfortable with Branson’s parents and siblings, and he still got to see Trei multiple times a week.
Trei had settled into his new room at the Higgs house, and now that he was easing toward the end of his first trimester, his morning sickness had nearly disappeared.
He still wanted a job, but he was nervous about a customer-facing position, like retail or food service, not only because of his past, but also as a single omega (mated scent or not).
No one was rushing him to find work, especially not with a baby coming in six months, but Trei had drive and enthusiasm for learning new skills.
He’d even spent a few days at Perks, a small coffee and pastry shop opened by Miko’s parents, Brogan and Mikel Tovey, with his shifts starting at four a.m. when Symon Lee began baking.
They didn’t have the money to hire Trei, but Trei looked at it like an internship.
A learning experience to see what he might want to do in the future, to earn a living for himself and his son.
Branson admired his ambition.
He pulled into the driveway behind Dad’s car, a little surprised to see Papa home this early when it wasn’t a weekend.
It didn’t worry him, though—not until Branson honked his horn to let Jeuel know he was there, and Papa stepped out onto the porch instead.
When Papa waved him inside, Branson’s stomach pitted.
Dad and Emory were entertaining the triplets in the living room.
Branson followed Papa into the dining room, where Jeuel and Tarius were waiting, seated on the same side of the table.
Tarius’s expression was neutral, but Jeuel was tearing a paper napkin into small pieces, and he didn’t look up when Branson walked in.
“What’s wrong?” Branson asked Papa. “Did Mr. Paxton call you?”
“Yes, about an hour ago,” Papa replied. He waved at the table, but Branson preferred to stand behind Tarius and Jeuel. Papa stood across from them, hands in the pockets of his slacks. “He was giving me an update on the case when he had to take another call.”
“What’s the update?”
“The head prosecutor made an offer to the defense team, and they took the deal. There won’t be a trial.”
Jeuel’s face went bright red, and Branson couldn’t decipher the emotion.
Papa explained the charges and that the five men arrested for entering the Alder house and discharging their weapons would serve sentences of fifteen to thirty years. “I know it doesn’t seem like enough, not for what you’ve lost,” Papa said directly to Jeuel. “But they are going away.”
Jeuel kept shredding his napkin.
“But why the plea deal?” Branson asked. “I thought they had a ton of evidence? Home surveillance videos, the weapons used. The constables were on-scene within minutes of the carnage. I don’t get it.”
“Paxton didn’t have all the details, since he’s not part of the prosecution or the defense, but he heard rumors that some of the evidence was tampered with and thrown out by the judge.
It was a big risk for the prosecutor to take the case to trial without it.
And since Sonora is one of only four provinces that still has the death penalty, the defense avoided capital murder. ”
Branson’s chest burned with disappointment. Jeuel and Trei deserved a public trial. They deserved to see the men who’d destroyed their family prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law and spend the rest of their lives behind bars. But that wasn’t his call. It was between the lawyers.
He squatted next to Jeuel’s chair and rested a hand on his thigh. “How do you feel about this?”
“Does it matter how I feel?” Jeuel snapped without turning his head away from the paper scraps in front of him. “They made the decision. I never get a say.”
His heart hurt for the grief in Jeuel’s voice.
“Sometimes justice doesn’t work the way we want it to,” Papa said, his deep voice gentling into the tone he used when speaking to one of his own distressed kids.
“I’ve been a lawyer long enough to know that.
I’ve lost cases, and I’ve had to give clients terrible news.
But those men are going to serve time, Jeuel.
You will be well into living your life before any of them are even up for parole. ”
Jeuel shrugged and hung his head lower. Papa frowned, clearly unhappy at not being able to console Jeuel.
Branson wasn’t sure what to say, either, and he glanced past Jeuel to Tarius.
Tarius offered him a sympathetic smile and soft shrug.
They couldn’t police Jeuel’s feelings on this; he had every right to be angry.
Branson’s only consolation was that Jeuel was thousands of miles away from those men.
There was no chance of him going off on a rogue revenge mission.
“At least now there’s a conclusion to this,” Tarius said, mostly to Jeuel. “You don’t have to wait through months of pre-trial motions, jury selection, and then the actual trial. Waiting for the verdict, and then more weeks of waiting for sentencing. You know now.”
“I guess,” Jeuel said to his lap. “Do I, um, have to do anything?”
“No,” Papa replied. “All of your statements were used as part of the deal-making process, so they’re part of the official record. Trei’s, too.”
Jeuel’s upper body flinched. “Trei’s going to be mad. They murdered his mate. He won’t get to hear a jury say ‘Guilty’.”
“I know. I called Liam before I came home. He and Trei were out together, so I didn’t want to disturb their afternoon. I’ll tell him in person later tonight.”
“Okay. Can I come?”
“Of course. We can go together?” Papa directed the question at Branson. Branson nodded his permission. He wasn’t an overbearing guardian, and Jeuel was closer to eighteen than seventeen now. He was nearly an adult who could make his own decisions. Jeuel needed to be with his other brother tonight.
“There’s something else,” Papa continued. He slid into the chair across from Jeuel and seemed to hunch. Not good. “The call Mr. Paxton received during our conversation was from the hospital administration. He’s the legal contact point in Sonora regarding Charles Alder’s condition.”
Jeuel’s head snapped up. “Father’s awake?”
“No, son, he’s not. In fact, his specialist says he’s taken a turn for the worst. There is now zero detectable brain function. I’m so sorry, Jeuel, but the machines are the only things keeping your sire alive.”
“But…” Jeuel’s chin trembled, and he stared across the table at Papa, his wide eyes going liquid. “They…they’re sure?”
“Yes. I am so sorry to have to tell you this, son. But as the next of kin, the hospital needs your guardian’s permission to turn off life support.”
Branson’s heart beat faster, and his chest hurt when Jeuel twisted in his chair to look at him. Jeuel grabbed his hands and squeezed them hard, tears slipping down both cheeks. “Please, don’t tell them to kill our sire, not yet, please,” Jeuel begged. “I want to see him.”
“Hey, come here.” Branson stood and pulled Jeuel up into a hug.
He tried to put as much love and support into the embrace as he could, and Jeuel clung to him.
“I would never tell the hospital to do anything without your permission, I promise. Charles Alder is just a name to me, but he was your parent for your entire life. I hate how much this is hurting you.”
Jeuel sobbed into his neck. “I thought I let him go when I left.”
“It’s hard to let someone go when they aren’t really gone. You have had so much loss in such a short span of time, but you’re still standing.”
“You’re holding me up.”
The fact that Jeuel was making jokes while crying in his arms helped calm Branson’s own racing heartbeat a fraction. “That’s what brothers do. We hold each other up when one of us wants to fall down.”
“Yeah, we do.” Emory’s voice startled Branson, and then Emory was there, hugging them both from the side. Branson wasn’t sure what Emory knew or had overheard, but Emory’s natural empathy was probably screaming at him to comfort Jeuel. To comfort a fellow omega in immediate distress.
“It’s what family does,” Tarius said somewhere behind Branson. And then he was folding his arms around them, his chest pressing into Branson’s back, chin resting on his shoulder.
They stood for a while, a loving unit, all of them supporting Jeuel until he quieted, and then an unexpected voice joined them.
Trei and Liam had arrived, and Papa broke the news all over again.
Trei and Jeuel held each other on the living room couch, whispering and occasionally crying together.
Branson stood nearby, Tarius still plastered to his back, strong arms supporting Branson around his waist. Existing together.
“I want to go back,” Jeuel announced, after blowing his nose and sipping some iced tea. “I don’t want him to be alone when he dies.” His red-rimmed eyes seemed to stare right into Branson’s soul. “I know he won’t be able to see me or hear me, but I’ll know.”