by Aiden Bates
Ozzy nodded. "We'll take good care of him."
She gave him a hard look, but then softened. "I'm sure you will. Go be with your omega now, Mr. Morris."
She left the room, off to save another life.
Chapter Fifteen
It took Pete a few days to drift toward full consciousness. He had very few memories of the time in between recognizing that his wound had become infected and the time when he woke up, and the memories that he had didn't make sense. He remembered the scent of Alpha but also the sound of gunfire and of being carried off yet again. He remembered poking and prodding, and he remembered a lot of screaming.
He didn't think that remembering more than that would do wonders for his psyche, so he pushed the memories away from his brain and focused on his return to consciousness.
He didn't feel great. The first thing he noticed was the pain in his right arm, which only made sense. He'd been shot, and then Russ had pulled the bullet out with tweezers. Wasn't that how everyone's bullets got removed, on the floor of an abandoned factory covered in grime and rat droppings? Or had it been a school?
The scent of Alpha hadn't gone away. Pete had almost forgotten what Ozzy smelled like, and for a second he wondered if one of the nurses had just popped some popcorn. Then a hand touched his, and he heard the heart rate monitor pick up the pace a little. No, Alpha was really here, really with him.
That same hand stroked his face. "Hey, no need for tears." Ozzy's lips brushed across his forehead. "How you feeling?"
"Um. Confused. Embarrassed. Thirsty?" He blinked his eyes open and gave them a moment to adjust. "Why can't I move my right arm?"
"It's broken. Fractured, anyway. It's immobilized. It's going to stay immobilized so that you can eventually pick up our amazing daughter all by yourself. They're bringing her by a little later, by the way." He stroked Pete's cheek, like he couldn't get enough of touching him. Pete didn't mind. It had been a long time. "Do you want to sit up a little?"
Pete nodded, and his alpha pushed the button to move the top of the bed up. Then Ozzy brought a cup of water over and held it to his lips so that he could drink. "So," he said, when he was done. "How's Marissa?"
"She's as well as can be expected. She wants you. She cries a lot, and when she sees you and can't play with you she cries even more. Sometimes they just put her in your arm and she falls right to sleep, all happy and contented. It's amazing. I got some pictures with my phone." He paused. "She didn't remember me."
Pete looked away. "I'm sorry."
"No, Pete. I am. I was so obsessed with keeping you safe that I let it keep me away from the two of you. It was awful of me. I had no idea that you were going through postpartum depression."
"That's not your fault." Pete reached out for his alpha. "It would have happened anyway."
"I sure as hell didn't help." Ozzy hung his head. "I promise to try to do better, if you'll let me. I mean, I'll probably still screw up sometimes. And there will be times that you still try to do everything on your own. Neither one of us is perfect."
Pete held Ozzy's hand. "We're perfect for each other, though."
Pete didn't have to stay in the hospital more than a couple of days after he woke up. The antibiotics were doing their thing, and once they'd gotten the infection down to a dull roar he could take oral antibiotics instead of intravenous antibiotics and go home to shower and such.
The biggest problem was defining home. Ozzy had a house that he still hadn't sold, although he wasn't comfortable using it because it wasn't large enough to be comfortable for so many and because he was still nervous about security. Neither of them wanted to return to the Sudbury house, which was still technically a crime scene and still included a lovely pool of dried blood in the kitchen.
Cynthia provided them with an excellent interim option. She'd already purchased a crib, changing table, and baby supplies for Marissa during Pete's hospitalization, and the house was large enough that they could have an entire floor to themselves if they wanted. She simply insisted that they all move in with her while they looked for someplace else, and if they didn't find anything else suitable she would be more than happy to live with it.
Pete and Ozzy were uncomfortable taking her up on her offer, but they accepted at the end of the day. Pete couldn't take care of a house, even if it didn't mean scrubbing blood from the floor, and it was a secure facility from which to operate while Ozzy tried to grapple with his need to keep his family safe.
When Pete was released, they headed to the Weston house. Ozzy had already gotten permission to retrieve their personal effects from the property, and his friends had already brought them over, so Pete didn't have to try to deal with moving or unpacking. He just got in the car and got out at his childhood home.
Marissa was more comfortable with her daddy back, or so everyone told him. He couldn't pick her up by himself, but everyone was more than happy to take that on for him. All he had to do was to cuddle her and play with her. Cynthia seemed to be enthralled with her granddaughter, who laughed and giggled for her. "I sometimes feel like I missed out on something when I didn't do this myself with you boys," she confessed with a sigh. "Of course, it was a different time, and I was in a different place. Maybe it would have been different."
Marissa got more comfortable with her dad, too, which seemed to cheer Ozzy up considerably. She liked to play with his ties, which led to his new interest in organic cotton ties given her interest in putting things in her mouth.
By the time that Pete had been home from the hospital for a week, he was feeling much better. His right arm was still immobilized, of course, but the effects of the infection were gone and he was just finishing up his course of antibiotics. He got out of the shower one morning only to come out and find Ozzy standing by the bed, with two packed bags. "What's going on?" he asked, panicked.
"I got leave," Ozzy told him. "I got family leave. An alpha officer gets that when he makes a claim, or is going to make a claim." He looked down, and then he looked back up and met Pete's eyes. "If you still want that, I booked us a good, long weekend at a bed and breakfast in Concord. We've got a very private room. Ruth, Cynthia and Angus have things here, with Marissa. I want to be yours. I want you to be mine. I just wanted to wait until you were in good enough shape to do this. So, uh, let's do this. If you're up for it."
Pete pinched himself. Was this part of some fever dream? Was it a hallucination from the infection? "I… I want this." He swallowed. "But only if you do too."
Ozzy walked toward him with a green polo shirt to help pull onto his body. "I want this." As he helped him with the shirt, he let his hand creep up to Pete's nipples, where they teased them to a point. "I want this, and I want you. Are you with me?"
"I'm with you." Pete gasped the words out as his mate worked his nipples. It felt too good to be touched after so long.
Ozzy helped him to get dressed. They went downstairs to give some extra attention to Marissa before they left. Pete had a few qualms about leaving Marissa again, but they were only a few towns away. She would be fine, and they could get back if they needed to.
They checked into the bed and breakfast and got a tour of the facility. The place was owned by an alpha and omega couple, and Ozzy had told them why they were coming to the inn. They were extra accommodating to the pair, and made sure that they had everything that they could possibly want before leaving them to their own devices.
Pete needed help undressing, but not as much as he did getting dressed. He took another quick shower, not because he'd done all that much to work up a sweat but because he wanted to present himself as cleanly to his alpha as he could. As he sluiced the soap from his flesh, he gave a little smile. He wouldn't have to fight with his clothing for the rest of the weekend.
Ozzy was already waiting for him when Pete emerged, naked and beautiful. Pete's breath caught in his chest. How could Ozzy want him—scrawny and wasted him?
Ozzy approached him with his brace and helped him put it on. "I know what you're th
inking, Omega. None of that. We're the only ones for each other, and that's enough. Come on. Let's make this happen."
Pete let his alpha lead him to the bed. He liked this bed. It was antique, like everything else in the bed and breakfast, but it was also solidly constructed. He smiled, and then he saw the discreet bottle of lube on the nightstand. Had Ozzy put it there, or had their hosts?
Whatever. It was there, everything that they needed was within reach. He got into the bed and lay down on his back. The claiming was usually done from a rear-entry position, but Pete couldn't brace himself properly with his arm the way it was. They would have to be a little less traditional in their act, but that was something that they could certainly handle.
He lay down on his back and looked over at Ozzy, pulling the comforter aside in invitation. Ozzy looked him up and down, eyes dark with lust. His cock stood up tall, dark, and proud from his thatch of hair, demanding and eager already. "Look at you," he purred. He stalked over to the bed like a predator. "All laid out for me like Thanksgiving dinner. You want it, don't you?"
"Take me, Alpha." Pete opened his legs, leaving no mistake as to his intentions. "Don't make me wait."
"Oh, you'll wait all right." Ozzy chuckled. He bent down and kissed Pete's ankle. "You want my bite? You're going to have to wait for it." He nibbled his way up Pete's leg, moving carefully along the inner part of his leg until he got to the fork. Then he carefully turned around and nibbled all the way around Pete's abs, moving around his cock without letting a single part of his skin touch his aching member, and moved down the other end until he got to the other ankle.
Only then did he show any interest in Pete's cock. He reached for the lube with one hand and slicked up his fingers. As he teased Pete with kitten licks up the underside of his hungry cock, he slipped a finger into his hole. Pete let out a little whine. It had been so long, months, since he'd felt this.
Ozzy added another finger right away, and took Pete into his mouth. He knew that Ozzy wouldn't let him come, not yet, but it felt so good to have his alpha touching him like this that he wondered if Ozzy could stop him. He groaned and bucked his hips, just enough, and Ozzy laughed. The laughter created deep vibrations in Ozzy's throat, which felt amazing, and Pete had to close his eyes and try to think of anything but where he was right now.
Ozzy added a third finger. He seemed to want to stretch Pete thoroughly, but he was moving through it pretty quickly too. Pete didn't mind. They'd been waiting for this for a long time. When Ozzy finally slicked himself up and eased his way into Pete, Pete didn't mind the stretch at all. It felt right and good. It felt perfect.
"Alpha," he murmured, and wrapped his legs around Ozzy's waist.
That seemed to be the signal, because Ozzy snapped his hips back and let loose.
Ozzy had apparently been holding a lot in. He set up a vigorous pace. Pete tried to match it at first and then he just held on. It felt great. It felt amazing, and he cried out in his pleasure over and over again. Almost as good as the way Ozzy's pounding cock made him feel was the look on Ozzy's face. His eyes were wide, and his lips had rounded into a little o, like each thrust was some kind of a revelation. Pete had put that look there, Pete and the chemistry between them.
Finally, Pete recognized the signs. Ozzy was starting to lose the rhythm. It was only a matter of time until he finished, and Pete wasn't far behind. Ozzy met his eyes, the question unspoken but understood. Pete nodded, and Ozzy bent his head and bit down on the space where Pete's shoulder and clavicle joined.
They both cried out as their orgasms took them at once. The bite had hurt Pete, but only a little. He didn't care. He could feel everything right now. He could feel his alpha pumping into him. He could feel his own blood flowing into his alpha. He could feel his alpha's heat, his need, his warmth and reassurance.
When it was over, Ozzy pulled out of him gently and rolled him over onto his good side. Then he snaked an arm around his waist. He didn't bother to clean them up, and that was fine by Pete. They were going to get a lot dirtier than this over the weekend, and that was fine by him.
He was with Alpha, forever now. He was home.
...
Ozzy wasn't the most religious guy in the world. People often found that surprising about him, given that his father was a minister and all, but that was just the way he was. He knew, however, that someone had been smiling on him. He'd survived an attack that had killed all of his men. He'd survived multiple assaults while on SWAT that should have gotten him killed, to include the one that had allowed him to meet Pete.
And he'd almost lost his omega, twice now, but he'd still come out on top in the end. He knew that he owed his thanks to someone, and whether that someone was God, Fortune, or even some ancient Greek god, he didn't know, he was grateful. He had Pete, and they had a beautiful daughter together. He vowed never to lose sight of his good fortune again.
Living with Cynthia wasn't as bad as Ozzy had thought it would be. They had plenty of privacy when they wanted it, and they had the comfort of being close to family when they needed that too. At the same time, Ozzy knew that Pete chafed at not having his own space, or having things cleaned his way and to his specifications. He didn't quite realize that Cynthia realized it too.
She sat them down one evening, just after Pete had been given clearance to take the brace off, and poured them glasses of wine. "I've been thinking," she told them, and smiled, "that while it's been an amazing experience having you and your family here, that you might be happier if you had a place of your own again. But I like having you here in Weston, and of course I want to have you close by. So I thought it might be a good idea if I bought you a house."
Ozzy's jaw dropped. Homes in Weston didn't come cheap. "We couldn't ask that, Cynthia. We can both afford to get places of our own."
"Of course you can." She sniffed. "You both have places of your own, and you can rent them out or sell them, it makes no difference to me. But it isn't as though I can take the money with me, and I want you all close by. I want to be able to come for a visit without making a big production out of it, and I want to have you over without a big hassle on your part. I want to get a security setup for you like the one I have for myself. And I want to say, when I meet up with your father after my time is up, that I contributed to your happiness instead of frowning from the distance."
Pete hugged her then. They'd been doing a lot of that lately. They hadn't been given to many open displays of affection but now they seemed to be making up for lost time. He looked over at Ozzy and nodded, and Ozzy squirmed. "Okay. Thank you. We'll take you up on that."
They settled on a lovely old place from the 1870s. It was bigger than they'd ever planned on, but it had enough bedrooms that they could have as many kids as they wanted and not run out of room. As soon as the security people finished setting up the fence, they moved in and hosted a little gathering to celebrate.
Ozzy didn't take time off from work to deal with the move. In fact, once he'd gotten back from his long weekend with Pete, he had a lot on his plate. Sierzant was in custody, which was a load off of Ozzy's mind, but there was plenty of work left to be done. They still had to track down the rest of Sierzant's network of cops, and they had to deal with the rest of the guy's criminal empire too.
Oh, and they had to find a way to nail him for the murder of Tim Harbaugh, the murder that had started this all.
That, at least, would prove difficult. Oliver approached Ozzy about two weeks after he returned from his claiming and cleared his throat. "So, I've got the DNA back from the gun used in the bank robbery and the Harbaugh murder. I tested it where Meyrick said. The killer caught her hand in where she inserted the magazine into the gun. It ripped a piece of her skin off, and it's remained inside the gun ever since."
Ozzy frowned. "Her?"
Oliver nodded. "Her. Testing has given us a match. The donor entered into the system when she was convicted for heroin possession. Her name is Dawn Moriarty."
Ozzy closed his eyes and bow
ed his head. He'd been a fool. He'd been lured in by a sad story and distracted by the dirty cop angle. "All right. I'll get a warrant. We'll bring her in. Thanks, Oliver."
"You're welcome, Detective Morris."
Ozzy ran the case by the prosecutor, who agreed to bring Moriarty in. "I'm not sure that it's enough to sell a jury, but it's worth bringing her in and talking to her." He made a face. "When I look at all of this evidence, I'm not liking the picture of Harbaugh that I see, Ozzy."
"Me neither," he sighed. "But we've got a job to do. Might as well do it."
He sent uniformed officers to pick her up, and he met up with her at MCI-Framingham. On a whim, he called her probation officer and invited Mary to meet them there. Dawn seemed to trust Mary. Maybe Ozzy was still too sympathetic toward Dawn, considering that she'd murdered a man, but he wanted to give her someone she trusted.
Mary agreed to join him, and they met up with Dawn in a monitored visitor room at the state's only women's prison. Dawn hung her head when she was brought in, and she didn't pick it up when she sat down across from them. "You want your lawyer here, Dawn?" Ozzy offered. "We can call her."
