“Ah, now I get it.” Fallon nodded. “Sorry, Hayashi, but you're broadcasting big-time.” He tapped his forehead. “This whole thing is about acceptance. You're a private guy. We get that.
But you don't have to be on guard with us, not the way you used to be.” Kisho didn't want them to know what his life had once been like, but he could see on their faces that they knew. “Fuck.”
“It doesn't matter what you did before we met you, who you were, where you came from,” Fallon said, and Kisho felt, more than saw, Tersch tense. It didn't escape him they all had things in their pasts they wished they could forget. “Kisho, you are who you are. We're family, man.
And if you found someone who makes you happy, you have to listen up.”
“What does your beast say?” Jules asked.
Kisho felt like a complete mess. He didn't do drama, nor did he put himself out there as much as he was doing now. “He's mine.” Kisho cleared his throat and said again, “Morgan's mine.” My mate.
Jules surprised him again by nodding. “He wouldn't look away from me. Defended you when he thought I'd insulted you. He knocked Tersch on his ass.”
“He did not. He knocked you on yours, though.” Tersch promptly shut up when Jules growled.
Hell. Guilt rode Kisho hard. He and Morgan had shared so much in so little time. Had he killed their relationship before it could get started? “Morgan did that?” Jules sighed. “Yeah, the asshole couldn't have cared less that three changed Circs challenged him to man up. He was prepared to go to the wall for you. Claimed you were his and everything.”
Fallon shook his head. “And then you told Jules you fucked Morgan because he ordered you to. Nice going.”
Tersch slung an arm around Kisho's shoulders. “Dude, you have some serious groveling to do. You're good with poetry, but you might want to talk to Fallon about how to make up to your mate. He pisses Olivia off a good four or five times a day, but she puts up with him.” Kisho groaned. He'd really screwed up with Morgan. And as happy as he was that his friends would stand by him, that they accepted him for who he was, his beast fretted about his mate.
“Jules? What about you?” he had to ask. “You okay with Morgan being a part of us?”
“Seems like he's already been a part of you.”
Tersch snickered, and Fallon choked on a laugh.
Jules added, “But he and I are going to have to come to an agreement. If he stays, he needs to know what being a part of the team means.”
Kisho swallowed hard, trying to stifle his beast's possessive insistence that Morgan belonged to him and him alone.
“It'll get easier,” Fallon acknowledged. “I had a hard time sharing Olivia at first, but now she's a part of the team. We only play with others when she wants to. It'll be the same with Morgan.”
Jules nodded. “That's the way we're made. I'm alpha, for better or worse. I can accept Morgan as yours, but my beast needs to acknowledge him as mine, too. And he needs to know there's a pecking order,” Jules ended with a snort.
Jules would need to fuck Morgan into submission, the way he'd done the others. Kisho understood, but he didn't like it. “Well, this may all be moot if I can't get him to forgive me.” Tersch pointed to Fallon. “And there's your answer, my friend. The king of 'I'm sorry.'”
“Dick.”
“You wish.” Tersch turned to Kisho with a grin. “Oh, my bad. Am I not supposed to make any more dick jokes in front of the gay dude? Am I being insensitive again?”
“At least you're consistent.” Kisho shook his head, but inside, he wanted to shout with joy.
Everyone knew the truth, and none of them cared. Nothing had changed, except he had one more hurdle to overcome before he could find a future of happiness. Now to find Morgan and put his mate to rights.
“He's not here?” Kisho stared at Mrs. Sharpe in shock.
“I'm really surprised at you, Kisho.” She shook her head. “If you knew all that boy has done for you. And to treat him like that. How could you?” Kisho blinked away his guilt and cleared his throat.
“Morgan offered to reconnoiter our situation down in Florida. In a few hours, he should be in place to give us a live feed on Delancey.”
Kisho itched to find Morgan, but he wondered if that was best. Maybe Morgan needed space. Maybe he hadn't meant what he'd said about claiming Kisho. Maybe he'd changed his mind.
“Kisho Hayashi, you are sorely trying my last nerve.” Mrs. Sharpe stood and rounded her desk to join him. The petite woman came up to his breastbone. But she poked him in the chest with a finger made of iron. “Morgan is seriously hurting, and I don't put it past him to be more reckless than he needs to be. You go get him and bring him back in one piece.” When he didn't move, she added in a loud voice, “Now.”
Chapter Nine
Morgan stared down at the city without seeing it. If hearts could break, his had a definite tear in it. He'd never gone down without a fight and wouldn't now, but dammit all. How the hell could his kitsu have turned on him like that? Make him feel like nothing in the span of a single denial?
Deliberately making a mockery of what they'd shared hurt. Did Kisho think it would put him in better stead with his friends? The Circs were Kisho's life, Morgan knew. But they didn't seem to mind Morgan all that much. While Kisho had spent the better part of the week avoiding him, the others had done their damnedest to share important things about Kisho's life, as if giving Morgan a subtle okay to pursue his kitsu.
Fallon told him stories upon stories about Kisho. Jules was always there in the gym, testing Morgan, pushing him to be better, to move faster. He'd seemed impressed when Morgan kept up.
It wasn't easy dealing with Circs, but Morgan thought he'd done all right. He'd even calmed Ava a few times after her flare-ups with Tersch, for which the giant seemed grateful, though he'd yet to say thank you. He'd watched Morgan like a hawk, but he hadn't crowded him.
None of the Circs really bothered him, come to think of it. They'd given him space to hang around Kisho. And offered him tidbits of Kisho's likes and dislikes, whether they knew it or not.
Olivia had mentioned Kisho's love of white roses.
Morgan overheard Jules and Fallon talking about Kisho's penchant for writing poetry and reading while the rest of them played cards or billiards.
Tersch complained about Kisho's “stupid classical crap that any idiot with half a brain would find annoying.” Then he'd pointed to several of Kisho's CDs lying near the stereo, showing Kisho's taste for Vivaldi, Haydn, Mendelssohn, and Mozart.
Ava, bless her, had run interference with Alicia, distracting the older woman by stirring up fights with Tersch and inventing computer problems Morgan knew she could have dealt with on her own. Leaving him more alone time with Kisho.
All that, only to have his mate reject him in front of those he considered family.
Morgan rubbed his chest, as if the metaphorical notion of a broken heart applied.
One step forward last night, a huge step back today. Terrific. If that weren't disheartening enough, he'd found Delancey and Montaña. Another reason for him to no longer be of any need to Kisho or his friends.
Morgan sighed. If he'd had his own beast, he'd be tearing through walls right now. Instead, he wanted to punch something. Or someone. He took a seat on the edge of the bed and stared at both monitors. One was mounted to the wall; the other was a portable television he'd brought with him.