by Aiden Bates
The attorney returned to his bench. "No further questions, your Honor."
The judge, unsurprisingly, found plenty of evidence to proceed to trial. Marsten was sent to jail to await that trial, and court was adjourned. Reporters mobbed the scene as people left the courthouse, and Oliver shrunk back. He'd never had people shove cameras or microphones into his face before.
A skeletally thin blonde, with a cameraman looming over her, stepped into his personal space. "Mr. Wesson, how does it feel to be the one who solved the murder of sixty people?"
Oliver stepped back and blinked. He wasn't authorized to speak to the media, and who knew who this woman even was? "The case was just held over for trial, ma'am," he told her. "The science is solid, but we have to see what the jury finds. And Detective Nenci's hard work made everything possible."
Sam was there, a suave and menacing presence slipping between Oliver and the cameras. He could breathe again, even if those breaths involved Sam's scent. "Mr. Wesson needs to get back to the lab now," Sam said with a thin smile. "Lots of crime to solve, and with everything that's been in the papers there's less people to do it. Excuse us. Have a great day." He put his hand on Oliver and Nina's backs and escorted them through the crowd until they got to the Toyota.
Oliver's cheeks blazed. "Thanks for that." He couldn't look up. Just that little hint of Sam's scent made him want to plaster himself to the alpha's side. "You did well up there."
Sam chuckled. "It's part of the job." He opened the door for Oliver. "Goodbye."
Oliver slid into the car and buckled himself in. Sam closed the door behind him and tapped the top of the car twice.
Nina started the car up and drove away. She didn't say anything about the tear tracks on Oliver's face.
***
Sam tapped Nina's white Toyota on the roof and watched it drive away. He didn't challenge Nina on the fish in his car. He'd picked up on it right away. It hadn't caused any damage and he'd honestly deserved it. Oliver turned back to look at him, and tears escaped the omega's eyes before he turned back to stare out the windshield.
How was Sam supposed to live with that?
He'd made his omega cry. Oh, sure, Oliver wasn't really his omega. There was no claim. They weren't even speaking. Oliver had given up on him. Sam had done his best to chase Oliver away, and it had worked. But by God, Oliver was Sam's omega. Sam's sons knew it, Sam's therapist knew it, Sam's colleagues knew it, and Sam's boss knew it. Sam wouldn't approach him, and he would respect his decision, but he wasn't going to pretend anymore.
Oliver had been the one for him.
He left the courthouse and went back to the office. He had paperwork to do in order to officially close the case. That would take up the rest of the day. Next week he would help Tessaro with his messy case until Devlin assigned him to something new, or he came to a decision about hanging it up, or until he and Tessaro came to blows, whichever came first. His money was on coming to blows with Tessaro, but anything could happen.
He busied himself with the minutia of paperwork until he'd crossed every t and dotted every i. By the time he was finished six o'clock had come and gone, and he could congratulate himself on successfully numbing the pain for another day. When he looked up from his screen, though, he found Tessaro looking at him. "What's up?" he asked his colleague, scratching at his beard. "You looking for a cheap barber? Because I've got a set of clippers left over from when the boys were younger, I can get rid of all that in like five minutes."
Tessaro snorted and pushed himself back from his desk. "You know, the hair is actually pretty popular. You might want to think about growing yours out a little." He got up from his chair and walked around his desk, finally coming over to sit on Sam's desk. "It might help you out a little with the omegas, you never know."
"I'm pretty sure that you've got a little more going for you than hair that belongs in a shampoo commercial, there." Sam glowered. "My desk is not a chair."
"Nope. It's a desk. But I figured it would be a good idea for us to talk, and maybe this would be better than shouting our business over the squad room like hood kids back in East Boston, you know? I mean, we can do that if you want. It's not like I give a crap." Tessaro pressed a hand into his chest.
Sam leaned back and groaned. "Is anyone ever not going to sit there and get into my business?"
"I don't know, Nenci." Tessaro smirked at him. "We're detectives. All we do is get into other people's business. All day, all night. That's kind of our thing. I tried to hook up with a Boston cop last week but we got sidetracked when we busted a drug mule."
"Seriously?" Sam shook his head. "You're making that up."
"Talk to Devlin. Or don't, if you're still pissed at him." He tilted his head to the side and looked up at the ceiling. "I mean, I'm kind of pissed at him."
"Are you really?" Sam pulled back in surprise. He wouldn't have looked to Tessaro for backup, not on this.
"Hell yeah. The guy might have meant well, but how many of the people we deal with mean well? Most of 'em, am I right? What he did was wrong, end of story. Of course, the problem now is that he messed up your life, and Oliver's life, and now there's a kid on the way and all of our cases take six times as long because we can't cut in line anymore. But hey."
"We can't blame him for all of that." Sam closed his eyes and leaned back. "I screwed it up, every time. It's a thing I do. My therapist says it's called self-sabotage."
"You seeing Trujillo?" Tessaro grinned and toyed with Sam's stapler. "She's pretty good, huh? And yeah, she's right. You're totally self-sabotaging. You've been self-sabotaging a lot of things, for a long time. It's about time that you stopped, don't you think?"
"It's a little late." Sam picked himself up and opened his eyes again. "I mean, his choice is made, right? He's giving the baby up. Says he's going to move away, although my guess is that Nina would move heaven and earth to keep him here. And I've been awful, with every chance I had with him. I didn't just shoot myself in the foot. I burned down every bridge, and half the city to boot. He'd be ridiculous to take me."
"Yeah. He would." Tessaro picked up a paper clip and untwisted it as he spoke. "Honestly, if it were him I was talking to instead of you, I'd tell him to run. But I'm talking to you, because I know you. I've known you for a few years now.
"And I've watched you try to push each and every one of us in this department away. I think all of us has had a bury Nenci plan going at some point. And then something happens, and you pull it out and you show us just who you really are. You stand by us. You stand by the victims, who are usually people who have no one else to stand for them. You handle cases with so much dignity and compassion that I've actually cried, Nenci. And I don't cry.
"So yeah. I care about Oliver. I do, and I'm pissed about the way that you've treated him, but I know that you can do better. And I want to see you happy. I want to see you both happy, Nenci. I know that you don't want to miss out on that baby's life. I know Jake doesn't want to miss out on that baby's life. And Ryan's told me that he doesn't think that Oliver wants to give the kid up either."
Sam bit his lip against the rage that filled him. This wasn't any of Tessaro's business. Tessaro hadn't had a relationship last longer than two nights, at least not that anyone knew about. He had no business giving relationship advice to anyone, much less a man who had claimed an omega and raised two sons.
At the same time, what he was saying was the truth. Sam wanted the baby. More than that, he wanted Oliver. He wanted the family back together. "It's hopeless though." He turned away. "I'm not even allowed to go near him, on threat of pain."
"Where do you think he is right now?" Tessaro jumped off of the desk and forced himself into Sam's line of sight.
"It doesn't matter! He won't see me!"
Tessaro leaned into his personal space. "Listen to me, you son of a bitch. That omega needs to know that he can count on you. He needs to know that you'll be there for him and he needs to know that you want to be with him. You haven't shown him tha
t you're capable of any of that. You've just gone on about your day, wrung your hands and said woe is me. Come on. Are you an alpha or not?"
Sam leaped to his feet and shoved Tessaro back. "Excuse the hell out of you?"
"Oh good. You can do something. I thought you were going to merge with your chair and become one with it." Tessaro tossed his head. "What would happen if someone decided to go after Oliver, huh? Or the baby? Or Jake, or even Joey? Would you sit there and sigh pathetically at your screen or would you get up off your ass and do something?"
"You'd best watch your tone." Sam clenched his hand into a fist. "I don't care if you're eight inches taller than I am, I'm not going to hesitate to take you down. I'll punch you in your knee if I have to; I've done it before."
"How about you put some of that energy into getting your omega back, hot shot?" Tessaro stepped back, just out of range.
"What am I supposed to do?" Sam roared. "He won't see me!" How many times was Sam going to have to repeat himself before Tessaro listened?
"So go see him!" Tessaro threw his arms up into the air. "Grovel, if you have to. Beg. Be contrite. Be honest. Explain the truth and tell him that you need him. Tell him that you want him, you want the baby, and that you want to make it work. Buy him a damn ring, like the one in the evidence locker, only don't cut it off of a dead guy because that's creepy."
"The mall will do just fine." Sam blinked and shook his head. "Wait, I can't believe I'm even considering this."
"It’s your only goddamn shot at not spending the rest of your life trying to fill an empty space where your omega should be." Tessaro stepped back in and grabbed Sam's arm. "Do you want this or not?"
Sam swallowed. Panic rose up in his throat. "I want this," he said, forcing the bile down. "I have no idea how it's going to play out."
"At least you'll know, by the end of tonight." Tessaro gripped his arm tighter and dragged him out the door. He was only barely willing to give Sam time to reach for his wallet or car keys.
The mall wasn't far away. They found a suitable ring. It was probably easier for them to find a ring given that they rushed into the store demanding "a ring, for omegas, make it nice," and didn't hem and haw over the decision. Neither Sam nor Tessaro was an expert on marital jewelry, and so they were able to get out before the sun started its descent.
They didn't ring Oliver's bell. Instead they rang Jake's. Jake was not the one who answered, though. "Hello?"
"Is this Jake Nenci's apartment?" Sam asked, exchanging glances with his fellow officer for a moment.
"Yeah, hold on, let me grab him. Jake, isn't that your dad?" The voice disappeared.
Tessaro turned away from Sam, shoulders shaking with laughter.
Jake's voice came through the speaker next. "Uh, Dad, not a great time."
"Okay, Jake, it's not even dark out, put some pants on and we'll talk about this later." Sam clenched his hands into fists.
"My house, my pants, my rules." Jake sounded smug. "And my rules are no pants. Why are you here?"
"For reasons that I'd rather not discuss in a public lobby." Sam turned to look at Tessaro, whose face was bright red. The taller cop was trying to stifle a laugh in his hands. It wasn't working.
"Ugh. Fine, but you owe me. Take your sweet time coming up; I can't find my shirt."
The door leading to the building's interior buzzed.
Tessaro doubled over, gasping. Sam kicked at his foot. "Yeah, yuk it up. Someday it's going to be you, interrupting your kid's shenanigans, and I'm going to be the one laughing at you."
"You're kidding me, right?" Tessaro made a face. "No. Not me."
"What, you're so good at telling other people how to handle their kids, you're not planning to have a baseball team of your own?"
"Nah." Tessaro stuffed his hands into his pockets and followed Sam to the elevator. "Not my thing. I had my chance and I blew it." He glanced over at Sam. "Why do you think I'm on you guys so much about not screwing things up with yours so badly that it can't be fixed?"
The elevator doors opened. "I had no idea." Sam stepped inside. "I figured you were just a busybody."
"I am. Professionally, remember? So are you." Tessaro leaned back against the elevator wall. "Now remember. You're being conciliatory. He made his choices, but you shot yourself in the foot."
Sam nodded. "Right."
Jake apparently couldn't find his shirt, and rather than find another one and greet his father in some semblance of order he just threw a hoodie on and left it unzipped. He wasn't being subtle about what had been interrupted. At least Dinesh had the good grace to get fully dressed again, and look sheepish.
Huh. Dinesh was still in the picture. That was something, anyway. Hopefully they'd do things in the right order.
Tessaro explained things to Jake. Sam almost interrupted, but then he decided to keep his mouth shut. Tessaro was doing a perfectly good job of explaining the situation, and Sam knew that if he tried to justify things to his son he'd probably lose his temper.
Jake shook his head. "I don't like this. You've had plenty of time to try to be better. Joey and me, we showed up and begged you to do better by Oliver, and you just sat there like a toad. Why is it different now?"
Sam grimaced. "Because Tessaro isn't my son, and because he sat there and insulted my masculinity until I got up and shoved him?"
Jake crossed his arms over his bare chest. A bare chest that bore several hickeys, Sam noted, and choked back his anger. "If that's all it took I'd have been happy to insult your masculinity all night."
"It's different." Tessaro tightened his jaw. "Just—look. Nenci has to at least try to make it right, okay? If Oliver says no then fine, I won't blame him a bit, but at least Nenci will have tried. He needs to have the chance to try."
Sam hung his head. "I don't want to spend the rest of my life not knowing what he would have said. I know what he should say, but if I don't ask him I won't know for sure. I just—I'm trying, here. I'm learning how to be a better man."
Jake's lip curled, but he grabbed his phone from the coffee table. "Hey, Oliver? You home? Yeah, it's me. I've got a visitor here for you. I think you should at least try to hear him out. No, no, I mean, if you don't want to you don't have to, but he brought a chaperone. I think he wants to try and be reasonable. I don't know, if he starts acting like a dick have Tessaro shoot him or something, that's what he's for."
Tessaro pulled his head back and blinked at Jake. "Seriously?"
Jake waved him off. "Yeah, sure. Call me if you need me." He turned to his father. "Do not make him need me. Do I make myself clear?"
"Crystal." Sam paused for a moment, surprised by the role reversal, and then he headed down the hall toward Oliver's apartment. Tessaro hurried along behind him.
Chapter Fifteen
Oliver's heart beat a wild tattoo against his ribcage when he opened the door. He knew that he shouldn't do this. He shouldn't waste so much as three seconds on Sam or his words. Oliver had set a course, and he needed to stick to it. That was all that there was to it, or at least it should have been.
His hand trembled as he unlocked the door, and Oliver couldn't tell if it was from need or anger. He wanted to reach out and touch. He wanted to yell and scream. He did neither. Instead, he pulled back and gestured to the couch. Then he sat on the chair. There would be no succumbing to proximity here. He might want Sam, but he wasn't going to give in to that.
Sam hung his head and stuffed his hands into his pockets. He shuffled over to the couch and took a seat. Tessaro walked at a more normal pace, with his head up. "Thanks for seeing us," Tessaro said, with a flash of a grin at Oliver.
Oliver didn't return it. He just sighed and pulled his knees up. He hadn't bothered to dress up. After work, he'd come home and put on sweats. He felt underdressed, but he couldn't muster up enough passion to be bothered by it. It wasn't like he could impress Sam anymore. "I have to admit that I'm a little confused. I'm not sure what else is left to say."
"I know you're not.
" Sam leaned back and melted into the couch. "I haven't given you much of a reason."
"No." Oliver shook his head. He looked over to the side and at the floor. "You haven't."
Tessaro elbowed Sam. Oliver wasn't sure what was going on there, and he wasn't sure that it mattered.
Then again, maybe it did. Sam jumped a little when Tessaro's elbow connected. "Well, see, it's… Okay, look." He took a deep breath and toyed with the corner of his shirt. "I told you I've been in therapy. I started therapy because you made me want to be better, Oliver. I realized that I had a problem. I couldn't be what you needed, and there was no one that I could even talk to about it. I needed to be better. It's taken me time to realize, though, that I was sabotaging myself. With everything, not just you, but yes, with you too. I was pushing you away because I was scared. I am scared."