Page 115 of Broken Bonds

I relax as he outlines his reasoning for splitting them up, how they’ll allot security, and their tactics to avoid detection. We’re thirty minutes into our discussion when he sits back and studies me, cocking his head.

“So what has you shitting bricks right now? You don’t strike me as a guy who rattles easily.”

Fuuuck.

I sit forward, leaning in so I can drop my voice. “We’re giving your group—every faction in it—sanctuary because of this.” I tap my finger on the table. “And we will lend mutual aid once plans come together to put a stop to this.”

Yep, he’s an attorney, because he slowly nods but doesn’t speak.

So I continue. “Our agreement is that we’re providing sanctuary with the understanding that not only will we do everything in our power to protect the refugees in our care, but that people from the coalition won’t harm any of our pack.”

He nods again, still not speaking.

I realize perhaps he’s just using the ancient technique of letting me talk and not interjecting to see if I’ll start nervously running off at the mouth.

Which is why I carefully pick and choose my next words. “I take giving people sanctuary very seriously. And we’ve made a habit of giving people sanctuary, some who join our pack and some who move on. It’s one of the foundations of why Father and Dad founded our pack.”

Another slow nod.

“There are others in our compound who have been granted sanctuary.”

His gaze narrows, but he doesn’t speak right away and I force myself not to continue.

“We have agreed,” Morning finally says, “to not harm anyone in your pack.” He lightly taps the table with his left index finger, his gaze still on me. “And to me? Anyone you’ve given sanctuary to? That’s the same thing. But.”

He idly traces a design on the table with his finger as he gathers his thoughts. I don’t interrupt.

“Considering the crimes against our coalition,” he says, “there are some who—understandably—might not be able to control themselves were they to find someone who isn’t of your pack, who appears to be the enemy.” That green gaze meets mine. “But they have all pledged that your pack is off-limits, and that they will protect them just like you’re protecting the refugees, no matter who they are.”

He’s an attorney, and he’s damned good, because I immediately grok what he’s saying. “Regardless of who the person is, if they’re pack, they will not be harmed?”

He slowly nods. “Exactly.”

I sit back, thinking. But he speaks first, holding out his hand. “Give me a dollar, or a five, or something.”

“What?”

“ Whatever you’ve got. Just do it.”

Confused, I pull out my wallet and hand him a one.

He takes it, smiling, and tucks it into his shirt pocket. “Congratulations, Mr. Crowe, you’ve just hired yourself an attorney. Yes, I am licensed to practice in Florida as well as Georgia.” His smile fades. “Meaning our conversations that you bring to me for…advice that you don’t specifically tell me are exempt from privilege? I automatically keep my mouth shut.”

I stare at him for a moment, reminding myself Father trusts him. “No matter what it is?”

“Pretty much, yup. If a child or an innocent is in danger, that is a hard line, but I suspect you’re not about to tell me anything like that, are you?”

“No, I’m not.” I take a deep breath. “What if I happen to know where Sterling’s son is?”

“I have no interest in harming that kid,” he says. “Malcolm, I believe his name is. He’s done his best to escape that psychopath several times, and kudos to him for apparently doing a better job of it this time. But I strongly suspect if Sterling gets his paws on that kid that he’ll immediately have him killed.” His smile fades. “My brother is dead because of Randolph Sterling, but every fiber of my being tells me that kid is as much a victim as any of the others Sterling has harmed throughout the years.”

He taps the table again. “However, there are others who are not as…introspective and discerning as I am. They want revenge at any cost. I get it, believe me. Sterling’s gone after kids and mates and familiars and people who in no way are a threat to him. But pain does a number on people’s minds, especially grief.” He sighs, staring right into my eyes. “The only way that kid will be safe from people who aren’t Sterling is if he’s fully a part of your pack.”

“How do I know that even if he is officially pack that he won’t be a target?”

“He won’t be. Not from our coalition. Because every last one of them will know if he’s of your pack that he’s not guilty of what’s happened.”

I suck my teeth, thinking. “Does it have to be a mate bond?”