Branson just wanted Quillen to go away so he could hug his family in peace, which he finally did after they’d all signed statements. There were plenty of other witnesses, so if the shooter’s case went to trial, rather than settling on a plea deal, none of them would need to return for it.
Branson wanted out of his goddess-forsaken province that had tried to kill his brother twice, and his husband once. He wanted to take his familyhome.
When Corinth was finally comfortable and able to have visitors, they went to see him. The older beta man was upright in bed, his right arm in a sling, wearing a furious scowl that softened a bit when he saw them. Jeuel shocked Branson to his core by throwing his arms around Corinth’s neck and sobbingloudly in the bewildered constable’s arms. Branson tried to pull Jeuel away, but Corinth shook his head no.
Corinth held the upset, quailing teenager in his good arm for a long time.
Tarius had been scared out of his mind more times in his life than he cared to count, and each time it was because someone he loved dearly was in imminent, potentially-lethal danger. From the time Omegin got sick when Tarius was a teen, to last fall with Linus’s car accident, he’d fretted and raged and comforted others. But he’d never had someone there to fuss and fret over him when he was upset or in crisis mode.
Until now. Until Branson.
With Branson, it was okay to be upset over someone shooting at them. He was allowed to feel his grief and anxiety, because someone else was there to be strongfor him. The utter devastation in Branson’s eyes for those few, terrifying seconds when Branson thought Tarius had been shot? Tarius never wanted to see that kind of terror in his husband’s eyes again. Terror that came from a deep place of love. And a deep fear of loss.
Tarius never wanted to feel that way again, either.
Their quartet spent the night in Emergency, Quillen their new private bodyguard. Being in the hospital meant Tarius was given IV fluids and some sort of vitamin pack to help battle his cold, and he started feeling better within the hour. Paxton swung by around midnight with food for them, since the hospital cafeterias were closed until six a.m.. Tarius was a little surprised his dad hadn’t called, but Sansbury was also three hours ahead,and the shooting probably hadn’t made the final evening news broadcast at home.
Dad would probably wake up to a lot of messages, though, and Tarius was not at all surprised when his mobile lit up at three o’clock. He reassured his sire that they were all fine and ready to get on the next train home, as soon as logistically possible. Dad promised he’d call Branson’s parents and reassure them that if Branson didn’t call himself, it was because he was on the train.
Luck was finally on Tarius’s side, because by six o’clock, just as the sun was rising over the vast desert around them, their quartet was safely on board another train. Not an express, so it would take three days, but they had the entire car to themselves, courtesy of strings pulled by both Chief Constables of Sansbury and Sonora Provinces. Jeuel had silently declared himself Corinth’s personal nurse for the trip home, so they decided to share a cabin, giving Branson and Tarius the privacy of their own.
Privacy Tarius craved after so many hours in Emergency, surrounded by strangers, security guards, and unknown dangers. While bullets had affected people he loved in the past, Tarius had never been in such close proximity to a shooting gun or whizzing bullets, and he never wanted to feel that sort of blazing terror again.
The terror of wondering if Branson was dead, if Jeuel was dead, if that unexpected pain in his back had been a bullet ripping through flesh.
Instead, it had been Corinth pushing him down and taking a bullet to the shoulder.
Tarius shoved those awful memories aside as he sank into one of the cabin’s four seats for the initial departure. Branson sat beside him and reached out, clasping his hand tight, reestablishing the much-needed contact Tarius had tried tomaintain for the last couple of hours. Even leaving his side to use the damned bathroom had nearly sent Tarius into a panic.
For all he’d never imagined being here a year ago—married, in love, co-parenting a teenager—he could not imagine losing everything he’d found.
“I cannot fucking wait to finally put my feet on Sansbury soil,” Branson said after the announcer stated they’d depart in five minutes, so please find your seats. “I know Jeuel needed the closure, but I hate everything about this trip.”
Tarius gave his hand a squeeze. “Even your own chance for closure?”
“For all the terror it caused the people I love? Yes. I don’t regret my closure, exactly, but I hate that it came as such a big expense.” Branson’s green eyes glittered. “I hate that I could have lost you without us ever clearing the air about that fight.”
“Me too. It wasn’t fair of me to bring it up when I did, and especially not how I did, and I am so sorry. I attacked you for having different views, and that’s not fair.”
“You didn’t attack me. All our emotions were running high. It wasn’t the right time or place, but I can’t fault you for having strong opinions on something as polarizing as the death penalty. We’ve lived very different lives, and our personal experiences shape how we view things.”
Tarius smiled, relaxing under the warmth of Branson’s words. “Yes, they do. I hate to pull the age difference card, but life experience in general helps you see more shades of gray that might not have been there before.”
“I get that.” A bell dinged, and the train lurched forward. They didn’t speak for a while, simply watched in contented silence as the last few buildings on the edges of Sonora gave way to rolling desert, scrub trees, those weird palms, and the occasional clusters of cactus.
It was beautiful, but Tarius missed the green mountains bordering his home.
“I spoke to my omegin about our fight,” Branson said. “While you were resting. I needed his perspective.”
“I’m not surprised. Kell excels at advice.”
“Yes, he does. We talked about Emory.”
Tarius nodded, unsurprised that the conversation had turned to what was probably the most traumatic months of Branson’s life. “And about the alphas who experimented on him?”
“Yes.” Branson angled in his seat to face Tarius, and Tarius hated that their seats had armrests between them, because he wanted to pull Branson closer. “You know that the four alpha scientists were found dead by the constabulary. They never faced our justice system, never had to answer to my family for what they put us and Emory through.”
“More alphas who got away with it?”
