“Mr. Cross,” Paxton said. “Right on time. I assume the young man I see over your shoulder is Branson?”
“He is. Is your client there?”
“Yes, he is. He’s a touch anxious.”
“So am I,” Branson blurted.
“Well, then, let’s not keep them waiting. This is not an official interview or anything on the record. However, what you both say is covered by attorney/client privilege. Speak freely.” Paxton glanced to his right. “Ready, son?” Paxton vacated his seat, so Papa did the same.
A slender body dressed in a t-shirt and jeans filled the screen a moment before Jeuel sat down. Branson couldn’t move to sit as he studied the face of his supposed half-brother. A face as familiar as it was foreign. He had straight, ashy brown hair, dark eyes, and an obvious dimple in his chin. He also had a few thin scratches on his left cheek, and he looked absolutely terrified, his shaking visible on camera.
“Branson?” Jeuel asked in a thin, reedy voice. “I can barely see you.”
“Sorry.” Branson practically fell into the desk chair, and the wheels squealed ominously. He adjusted his position then stared. “Hi.”
“Hi. Goddess, you look more like me than Paul did. Paul took after our omegin. We both look more like our…um, I mean. Yeah.”
Branson was grateful to Jeuel for not finishing his thought. “I’d ask how you’re doing but that’s a pretty stupid question. I can’t imagine the pain you’re in.”
Jeuel’s face scrunched up, and Branson instinctively reached for the screen. Sat back. Jeuel coughed then reached off-screen. Picked up a bottled soda and sipped from it. “I don’t know what I feel anymore, except exhausted. I can’t sleep. Food is too much work. If it wasn’t for Trei, I’d be lost.”
It took Branson a split-second to recall the name. “Your omega brother-in-law?”
“Yeah.”
“Is he there with you?”
“Sort of. He came, but he fell asleep on a couch in the outer office. Neither of us have slept much since the…incident. The nightmares…”
“I’m so sorry for everything you’ve lost, Jeuel. I mean it. I love my parents and my brothers to pieces, and I came close to losing both of my brothers these last two years. I cannot imagine the agony of actually losing them.”
A single tear leaked from the corner of Jeuel’s left eye, but he didn’t seem to notice. He appeared to be studying Branson without actively trying to meet his eyes. “I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy. But you probably have a lot of questions, huh?”
“I do. I know what your lawyer told my father, who is also a lawyer, but I needed to talk to you. To see you and hear it all in your own words, not just on a court document.” Goddess, but the more he looked at Jeuel, the more he saw bits of himself as a teenager. It was uncanny.
“I understand.” Jeuel chewed on his thumbnail, an action that made him appear even younger than seventeen. “Believe me, I was shocked as hell when Father told me about his past. That I had a biological brother out in the world, and that he might be able to help me.”
Branson bit back the urge to ask if Jeuel knew the details of what Uty had done to Branson’s omegin, but their first phone call was not the time. He didn’t need to heap more hurt onto the already shaking omega’s shoulders. “We’ve sent my DNA out to your people. To make sure it’s true.”
Jeuel’s eyes widened briefly, and his lips almost quirked upward. “Really? So, you believe me?”
“I believe what my parents told me. That they kept an awful secret from me because of a promise to your sire, and that it is possible we’re related because of that promise. If your sire is the man we think he is.”
“Chip Uty.”
Across the room, Papa grunted.
“Yes,” Branson said. Once again, he resisted his desire to question Jeuel about his sire, what Jeuel knew about Uty’s past. He tried to imagine that Jeuel was Emory or Caden, and how Branson, no matter how upset he was himself, would never intentionally cause his little brothers pain. “Can you, um, tell me more about how you found out? About me?”
“Sure.” Jeuel swiped at his face, as if now noticing the mostly-dry tears on his cheek. “After the incident, Father was in surgery for a long time. He had—has, six bullet wounds. They caused a lot of internal organ damage. He was in and out of consciousness for days.” Jeuel reached for a tissue and blew his nose. “I stayed with him as much as I could, so he knew I was there when he was lucid. Which wasn’t much.”
“I’m sorry.” Branson had no sympathy for Uty, only for the upset young man in front of him. As much as he hated Uty on principle, this was Jeuel’s truth, so he’d listen. With as open a mind as possible.
“On the third day, he was more coherent. He asked about me and Trei. I said I was scared. Scared of the halfway house, of being mated off to someone I didn’t know, of losing touch with Trei. We’ve been brothers for almost four years. And Father seemed to—” Jeuel choked once, then blew into his tissue again. “He seemed to understand that even if he recovered from his wounds, he’d be in the hospital for a long, long time.”
“And then he’d be in prison?” Branson blurted out.
Jeuel nodded miserably. “He couldn’t take care of me anymore, be my guardian, you know? Not with Dario dead, too. And my brother Paul.” This time, Jeuel began crying in earnest. Branson touched the monitor, his racing heart so sick for this boy’s pain.
