The arrival into Jacksonville was delayed by about ten minutes. Tea was packed up with his reports and heading for Don’s office and hopefully away from Aiden. But Aiden followed him, holding the copy of his schematics that he hadn’t finished reading on the train. Even as Tea sped up to put some more distance between them, Aiden continued to follow him.

It wasn’t until Tea reached Don’s office and handed him the reports that Tea realized what it was Aiden was doing. Don was just commenting, “What happened to your head?” when seemingly out of nowhere there was Aiden.

Aiden’s fist collided with Don’s jaw and Tea all but screamed, “Aiden!” Tea went numb as Aiden pulled Don off the floor and back into his seat. He shook where he stood, watching the shock creep steadily from Don’s face as he rubbed the spot on his face where Aiden had punched and straightened his glasses. What replaced it was something dark and foreboding and it almost made Tea drop everything else he was holding his hands were shaking so much.

Aiden pointed a finger directly at Don’s nose, his words barely above a whisper after Tea’s outburst, “You didn’t give him a choice, did you you bastard?”

“I beg your—”

“Stop!” Tea shouted. Just as Don started to speak, Aiden’s fist drew back again. This time Tea did drop everything and run forward. He grabbed Aiden by the arm, using his body’s momentum to swing him away from Don. When Aiden ricocheted to where Tea had been standing, Tea slammed a hand down on Don’s desk to stop himself from moving any further. His chest heaved as he stared at Aiden, pleading with him with his eyes to not push this subject any further.

Aiden straightened, his glower dark and imposing as he eyed Don over Tea’s shoulder. He almost completely ignored Tea, stomping forward and readying to shove him out of the way as he declared a little louder, “You’ve got him scared to talk back to you, don’t you?” Tea braced, intending to stay right where he was lest Aiden attack the man in control of his career again.

“The only person he seems to be afraid of here is you.” Don’s chair squeaked as he stood, Tea feeling his presence at his back and going stiff. Tea felt himself deadening before Don even touched his bicep and held it firmly. “Rowan, what is he talking about?”

“Get your hand off of him,” Aiden growled.

The sheer volume was enough to shake an answer out of Tea. “It was a misunderstanding,” he whispered, eyes locked on the winged man glaring over his head at the Moderator.

“Oh I bet you’re the reason he’s so touchy now,” Aiden continued to snarl.

“I said stop,” Tea lowered his voice, hoping it would deescalate the situation. At the same time, he didn’t think he could speak any louder with Don’s hand on him.

“I don’t take orders from you, kid.” That was the only time Aiden directed his gaze at Tea. “Now get out of my way before I move you.”

“You lay one more finger on him and I’ll send you to the Warden so fast—”

“I’d like to see you try, you toad!” Aiden took a gigantic step forward and Tea flinched, hands flying up and claws sticking forward in a reflex he didn’t know he had. He was nearly sandwiched between the two men when he shut his eyes and Aiden’s hiss rang out.

Then Aiden stepped back.

Tea kept his eyes closed, completely unaware of what had driven the other back until Don’s other hand dropped something on the floor and came up to grasp Tea’s other bicep. “Leave this to me, Rowan.”

Aiden had been stabbed.

But it only seemed to piss him off more.

Still, Don ushered Tea to take his bag and leave the office. Tea was shivering too much to disobey. “Yes sir,” he murmured inaudibly as he stepped from between the two and left the room.

On his way out he heard one final exchange. “Just how short is that leash you’ve got on him?”

“Short enough for me to see that I was right.” A pause as Tea closed the door behind him. “Didn’t I tell you one day you would turn on him?”

Tea was sure Don thought he hadn’t heard him. But he had.

He didn’t unpack his bags back at the penthouse. He just dropped them at the door in front of his room and let his head pound. It wasn’t throbbing anymore, but it was still sore. The headache was coming along swiftly. It was hard thinking . . . all he could hear were the words. All he could see were the images of what had passed between the Moderator and the lower ranked man.

Something didn’t sit right with him . . . in fact nothing sat right with him.

He knew he was missing something. Something important. He was stuck thinking over and over about what it was that had just happened, but couldn’t puzzle it together. It would have frustrated him more if not for the fact that he wasn’t putting more effort into thinking to begin with. Thinking was hard when it was painful.

Things didn’t start to become clear until Don returned to the penthouse to find Tea sitting in the same spot he had been sitting in since getting back. He didn’t question Tea, and Tea didn’t question him. Well . . . he asked one, “What happened?”

And Don, face bruised from the initial punch and nose broken and gushing likely from another, answered stiffly, “If he harasses you again, I trust you will tell me.”

Don was altogether moving stiffly, indicating that the pair of men had resumed their fighting once Tea was out of the way. Tea couldn’t help but fear how Aiden looked though in the back of his mind he suspected that Aiden was fine.

Fine save for that flaring temper of his.

Don probed Tea’s head injury, his fingers burning more in the long run than the initial strike. Tea closed his eyes, letting himself whimper and clench his fists but not pulling away from Don’s touch. He thought about how Aiden had moved to grab his wrist earlier. He wondered to himself how it was possible for every touch from Don to paralyze him but Aiden’s hands only served to startle him. If only because Aiden rarely made physical contact with Tea anymore aside from the brush of shoulders.

Tea didn’t eat that night. He couldn’t stomach it. After his shower though, he was greeted at the bathroom door by Don. He clutched at his towel, shrinking steadily under the other’s scrutinous gaze. Tea’s stomach tightened and his innards coiled as the other pushed him back into the bathroom with one palm. The palm rested on his shoulder and Tea went completely stiff once again.

As he always did when Don touched him now.

“Don?” he asked, his voice high and nervous.

“I want to check you for any more marks he may have left on you.”

Tea’s brow furrowed. “He didn’t . . .,” his voice trailed off. His eyes ran along Don’s currently unclothed arms to his torso. Along one arm was a massive purple bruise.

Don’s stiff movements suddenly made sense. “Forgive me if I don’t trust you to be truthful with me, my boy.” At that, Don reached for the towel. The redness in Tea’s cheeks began to crawl throughout his body, but he clamped his mouth shut and didn’t argue. It wasn’t as if Don had never seen him like this before. Well, he had only ever seen him in season. This was . . . far more humiliating. “I do thank you for defending me. I can handle myself from now on.”

Funny. As Don steadily peeled the towel away from Tea’s body, poking and prodding at his skin, he didn’t feel like he was being thanked.

“I’m . . .,” Tea stopped, realizing he was going to apologize. Granted, he didn’t know what to even apologize for to begin with.

“We’re moving your things into my room in the morning. Tonight, you are sleeping with me.” Tea felt himself go cold as Don’s hands came up to cup his cheeks, forcing Tea’s eyes to meet his. Tea shivered slightly, but the feeling was soon replaced by the usual stillness that came with having someone’s hands on him. With having Don’s hands on him . . . he didn’t react this way earlier with Aiden. “Your safety is my priority. Understand?” Tea didn’t respond, Don’s gaze intense enough to frighten him. To remind him of the man who killed his mother. She was feral, he told himself as he had millions of times. She had to be put down. “I will keep you safe from anyone who does this to you,” his finger ran over the mark on Tea’s temple.

That first night with Don though was the worst night of rest he had ever gotten. He was caught between uncomfortable lying beside him and even more uncomfortable with his arm draped over him. The blankets weren’t as welcoming and he felt out of place. For the first time in a long time, he had words to put to this feeling.

He didn’t belong there.

But he had nowhere else to go and he could turn to no one else. Except . . . .

Aiden was a man concerned with doing his job. Maybe . . . just maybe . . . one day if things didn’t get better . . . he could go to him. He could tell him he wasn’t happy here, and he could ask for help. One day. Or, at worst, he could go feral. Maybe he would be fortunate enough that Aiden would be the one to put him down and not Don.

He didn’t know . . . but he somehow trusted Aiden’s dedication to work more than Don’s need to protect him and he couldn’t piece together why.