Page 13 of Bully for Sale

Amos pondered him, tilted his head a bit, and said, “You’re Lidell Clearwater’s son, aren’t you? Though you look more like Sandrino. He was a friend of mine. Once.”

“Oh.” Ned didn’t know many men, aside from Earl, who’d known his omega parent. He’d been auction-born, which was common enough, but his father had fallen for his omega parent during the pregnancy—rather like Heath had fallen for Adrien. But Sandrino hadn’t lived long after the birth. Ned itched to ask questions about the man who’d birthed him, but he also knew this wasn’t the time or place. “My da died a long time ago, when I was a baby.”

“Yes, he did.” Amos studied him through narrow eyes and then heaved a sigh. “Well, come along.” Amos pushed some of his groceries into Ned’s arms. “Come upstairs. We’ll talk over tea and see what’s what.”

Ned was shocked by the invitation, but even more shocked by the state of things inside the building. Given how grim the outside was, that was saying something. Still, Amos’s actual apartment was as neat as possible, and the water damage and obvious evidence of termites and vermin was obscured by his attempts to make the small place into a kind of home.

Ned spotted the black notebook Ezer had been working problems in the day before. He wondered if Ezer had left it here by accident. He entertained a brief fantasy of grabbing it on his way out the door to return to Ezer when school began again after the holidays. He imagined Ezer’s face lighting up with gratitude…

He was such a dumbass. Ezer hated him.

Ned watched as Amos put the groceries away, and then let Amos guide him to a worn sofa with a few springs showing. It must have been purchased second-hand or pulled from the trash for free. He was embarrassed for Amos’s sake. The man had been an admired omega in society before George Fersee’s cruel divorce.

“So, Sandrino’s son,” Amos said, taking a seat on the threadbare chair across from the sofa where Ned perched. “Why don’t you tell me what happened yesterday?”

“Braden and Finch—”

“Tenmeter and Maddox’s sons?”

“Yes.”

“Go on.”

“Well, they’ve taken to using Bright’s powder a lot. They use it for…” He chewed on the inside of his lip, and then forced himself to stop stalling and spit out the rest. “Well, for fun, I guess. I don’t like it. It makes me feel jumpy. And stupid.” And horny, too, but he wasn’t going to say that.

“Mm-hmm.”

“But it makes Braden and Finch really mean. And, to be honest, sir, they’re already mean enough.”

Amos lifted a finger. “Hold your thought right there.” He rose and went back into the kitchen. There was the sound of running water, theclankof metal on metal, and then Amos came back out and took his seat again. “Go on.”

“Ezer is…well, at school he…” How could he put this? His lip was between his teeth again. “He struggles at Doubleton. Socially, I mean. And, I think, academically as well?”

Amos shrugged, as though this was not news to him. “Ezer is peculiar, I know.”

“No! Ezer is wonderful.” Ned blinked, confused by his outburst. He hadn’t meant to say that. Heat crept up his neck. He didn’t know how to explain the way Ezer made him feel by existing in the world. Not without coming across like a stalker. Hell, he probably already had come across as a stalker just by showing up here. A violent stalker, even, based on yesterday’s events.

“‘Wonderful’, huh? Funny way to show that opinion. Holding him down with your boot while the others—” A spark of rage entered Amos’s expression again.

“Yes, I know how it looked. But I didn’t want to!”

Amos rolled his eyes. “Let me tell you a secret, Sandrino’s son—”

“Ned.”

Amos’s thin brow cocked up. “All right, let me tell you a secret,Ned. Everything you do? Every last thing? Youchooseto do. Unless there’s a gun to your head.” He smirked. The memory of the pistol still fresh in both their minds. “Your choices belong to you alone.”

“My choices, maybe, but not my consequences.”

Amos leaned forward, the anger in his eyes turning to interest.

“It’s not a gun they have to my head, sir, but I have a hell of a lot to lose if I don’t stay on good terms with Braden and Finch.”

The sound of boiling water came from the kitchen. “Your popularity? Social standing? A wealthy marriage to one of the omegas of their families?”

A dart of anxiety entered Ned’s chest.

“I know your father, too, Ned, and I know that he’s a financial mess. Always has been, always will be. He could barely afford to buy Sandrino’s heat. I told your da at the time that Lidell Clearwater was no Heath, but Sandrino was smitten, and the heat was coming so…” Amos sighed.