Page 59 of Bad Blood Panther

“I be dood!” Brandon insisted.

Xander smiled down at him. “Yep, you are, buddy. The best.”

He took the sponge gently out of Jenny’s hand, turned on a trickle of water from the faucet, and soaked the sponge. Shielding Brandon’s eyes with his hand, he squeezed it, rinsing the soap out of Brandon’s hair.

“You know,” he said quietly, “when we were in Alexander Grant’s prison, sometimes he had us crowded six or eight shifters to a ten-by-twelve cell. There was one shower, one sink and one toilet for everyone, and half the time the toilets were backed up.”

Jenny didn’t say anything. Why was he telling her this?

“They used to take us out, a few at a time, and send us to the Professor for ‘training,’” he went on. “They were trying to teach us to shift only on command, to be guard dogs and cats, bodyguards. Sex slaves, for the females.”

Jenny gripped the side of the tub, the horror of it washing through her. Brandon was making quack, quack noises, still playing with the ducks.

“They’d beat us into submission, or use stun guns and cattle prods. They loooved their fucking electric weapons. They’d bring us back to the cells all torn up, covered in blood and burns and our own shit and piss.”

Xander squeezed another sponge full of water over Brandon’s hair, letting his hand rest on his son’s head for a moment.

“We’d clean each other up, if we had the strength. Or sometimes we’d be too fucking exhausted and messed-up, and we’d just lie there until we healed enough to move.” One of the duckies capsized, and Xander righted it gently and pushed it toward Brandon with a ‘quack.’

He said, “After a while you got used to the smell.”

Brandon slapped the water, splashing Xander’s face with bubbles, and he just smiled faintly and wiped them off. Then his face went sober again.

“So no, a little kid covered in bear shit wasn’t that big a deal. In fact, it was pretty fucking funny.”

“Daddy?” Brandon said.

“Just a second, buddy.” He turned and faced Jenny. “I know we haven’t been a family for very long,” he said, his voice low but intense. “And I know you think I’m a fuckup, and yeah, I guess maybe I am. I know Flynn and this crew have been carrying me for too long. I know I haven’t learned how to do all the mom shit you’ve been doing.”

“Daddy?”

“Xander, it’s not about that,” Jenny said. “It’s just—”

“But shit, Jenny, give me a fucking chance.” He held out the sponge she’d tried to take from him. “How the hell can I ever step up if you keep treating me like I can’t even give our kid a bath without—”

Brandon, having lost his patience, stood up with a growl. “Nobody listen!” he yelled at the top of his lungs.

Flynn appeared in the doorway. “Everything okay in here?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Xander said, looking away from her, his mouth tight. “Jenny and I can finish this conversation later.”

Flynn looked from Brandon to them and back again. “I’ll take the kid,” he said. “You can finish it now.”

Before Jenny could protest, Xander picked up Brandon, wrapped him in a big towel and handed him to Flynn.

Jenny said, “No, really, I couldn’t ask you to—”

Xander put a hand on her arm. “He’s fine.” To her surprise, she got a little jolt of alpha energy from Xander. She was so taken aback she let Flynn carry Brandon out, his fists buried in Flynn’s dreadlocks.

She heard Flynn talking as he walked down the hall. “Rule #1. No pulling the alpha’s hair. Rule #2. Don’t laugh when the alpha tickles you.” Hysterical laughter from Brandon followed. “I said don’t laugh,” Flynn said. More laughter, fading away as they walked into the great room.

Jenny still felt uncomfortable. “I should go after him,” she said, biting her lips. “He’s the alpha. He shouldn’t have to—”

“Jenny.” Xander put his hand on her arm again. “You’re not at Broken Hill anymore, okay? Our alpha isn’t a fucked-up megalomaniac who punishes people for every little screw-up. And God knows, Flynn doesn’t do anything he doesn’t want to do.”

She nodded. “I’m just not used to it,” she said. “And it’s not that I don’t trust you, or that I think you’re a bad father. I just want everything to be perfect. I want you to want us here. I want everybody to want us here.”

“Dammit, Jenny, of course we want you.”