He loved him.
And he wasn’t going to lose him.
Jack’s forehead was burning hot and his skin felt tight and dry. His chest rose and fell rapidly. The pulse tapping at Beckett’s fingertips was far too fast.
This was the duch’s fault.
Jack had taken those fucking suppressants because of the duch. There was areasonthey were illegal. Fuck’s sake.
Beckett strode over to the bell pull and yanked it. He tore it clean off the hook. He dropped the thing carelessly to the floor as he rushed back over to Jack. A knock came at the door and Beckett yelled over his shoulder, “Come in.”
Marl opened the door, no doubt outraged that Beckett was shouting orders like he was in charge here, but…well.
Hewasin charge.
If Marl had a problem, he could take it up with Beckett later.
“Call the physician,” Beckett snapped. “And get Hap in here. I need him to help me lift Jack. He’s a deadweight. I need cool water and cloths. Well? What are you standing about for? Get on with it!”
Instead of doing as he was told, Marl hurried over to stare down into Jack’s pallid face. “Oh, youstupidboy,” he said. It took a second for Beckett to realise he was talking to Jack, not Beckett. “Suppressants?” Now he was talking to Beckett.
Beckett grunted.
“Can’t get the physician then,” Marl said.
“What d’you mean? He needs one!”
Marl’s mouth tightened grimly. “A physician can’t do a damn thing for him,” he said, then put out a hand to steady Beckett when Beckett wobbled on his feet. “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant there’s nothing a physician can do now that we can’t. We’ll take care of him, lad.” He gripped Beckett’s shoulders and squeezed tightly, obliging Beckett to drag his gaze from Jack to Marl. “We’ll take care of him.”
In a moment of weakness, Beckett clutched at Marl’s strong wrists. “He’ll be all right,” he stated, even though it came out sounding like a question.
Marl nodded once. Firmly. “Yes.”
Beckett believed him. He had to. “We need to get him up to his chamber. Call Hapton, will you?”
“Absolutely not,” Marl said at once. “Not upstairs. We’ve got to get him out of the house.”
“What? Why?”
“Beckett, his body is trying to do two things at once. His omega’s in heat and he’s being called to tend to it, and the suppressants are doing what they’re designed to do, which is hurt him enough to stop the impulse.” He paused. “He must want the duch very much.”
Beckett thought of Jack, there on the bed and watching them fiercely while Beckett fucked the duch. His expression had been pure possession. It wasn’t just for the duch, either. When he made eye contact with Beckett, the possessiveness remained.
He’d looked proud.
Happy.
“It’s easier, ain’t it, to get the omega out of the house?” Beckett said. “He can walk.”
Marl gave him a sympathetic look. “Beckett, you’re in rut and the duch is in heat. You’re going to be busy for another twelvehours, starting any minute. Mrs Foley and I are more than capable of taking care of His Grace.”
“Sod that. It’s my job.” Beckett loomed over the smaller man, fists clenched. He didn’t mean to, he just…it was his job to take care of Jack.
Jack washis.
“It’s your job to take care of the duch. Unless you’d like me to send Dunn to him after all?”
Beckett growled with frustration. It was low and nasty, trickling from his throat and laden with threat. Marl didn’t even blink.
