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Chapter twenty

Novo

The next morning Matty was even quieter. Physically, the doc was pleased with him, but he wasn’t interested in watching cartoons or coloring. I’d made soft boiled eggs and toast soldiers to dunk in the egg, but he didn’t seem interested in eating much either.

When he left Patches on the floor where he’d fallen off the bed, I knew I needed help.

The guys also needed to talk to me, and it wasn’t a conversation we could have in front of Matty.

So, when I opened the door to reinforcements, it felt like I took my first deep breath since Matty had been taken.

Gunner had escorted Daisy and Annabel and would wait outside.

“Matty?” I called softly to where he was curled up on the sofa.

“Daisy and Annabel are here. They’re going to stay with you while I go talk to Jono and Bolt. I won’t be long.”

His eyes widened in alarm but he didn’t say anything. I decided to be as quick as I could and jogged to the meeting room in the clubhouse. The only bright point was that everyone stopped me to ask how Matty was.

The room was tense, all my brothers gathered around the big table. Digger and Bolt were in a heated discussion crowded around his laptop.

"Bear," Jono called, motioning me over. "How’s Matty?"

"Honestly? I think he’s still in shock. He’s not talking to me much," I said, taking a seat. "What's the situation?"

"Digger pulled everything we have on Coombes. Financial records, property holdings, known associates." Jono tapped a stack of printouts. "The man's been busy."

"And hemorrhaging money," Bolt added, sliding a financial report toward me. "His development company is underwater. Three failed projects in the last year, lawsuits from investors, and he's been covering it by siphoning from Matty's trust."

I scanned the numbers, my jaw tightening. "How much has he stolen?"

"Almost seven million," Digger said from his laptop. "Through a series of shell companies and fake invoices. Very sophisticated setup."

"That explains the urgency," I muttered. "The trust audit when Matty could access his money would have exposed everything."

Jono nodded grimly. "And with Matty dead, he inherits as next of kin. Clean slate."

"He's not getting near Matty again," I growled, the protective rage I'd been tamping down threatening to surface.

"Agreed," Jono said. "But we need to decide how to handle this. Going after Coombes directly is risky—he's connected, protected."

"I don't care," I said flatly. "He hurt Matty. He tried to kill him. Twice."

"And burned down our club," Cruise added from across the table. "Don't forget that."

"What we need," Bolt interjected, "is leverage. Something that makes him back off permanently."

A small notification bleep seemed loud in the still of the room, and Digger immediately changed screens. He whistled. “You all need to see this.”

“What is it?” I asked as we all stood and walked behind Digger.

“A police raid on Coombes’s estate.”

I watched in shock as SWAT officers poured from multiple cars and forced their way inside. Five minutes later a handcuffed Harold Coombes was led to a waiting car. “The fuck?” Jono asked.

“I’m working on it,” Digger said as his hands flew over the keys.

I leaned back against the wall, too afraid to believe we might be getting a break.

“The warrant is for embezzlement.” Digger looked up at me. “First-degree felony, which can carry thirty years if proven, but they wouldn’t be sending in SWAT if they didn’t have something else as well.”

“We didn’t have time to do anything but make sure the place was clean,” Cruise said. “I’d have loved to plant evidence, but we didn’t have any.”

Bolt stood up. “Let me make some calls.”

I glanced at Jono with a raised eyebrow but Jono just grinned. “Did you know Annabel’s older brother works with the district attorney?”

I was relieved but I had to get back to Matty.

Jogging back to the cabin, my mind raced.

If Coombes was truly going down for embezzlement, it could solve our problems permanently.

Matty would be safe. The trust would be protected.

We could finally move forward without constantly looking over our shoulders.

When I nodded to Gunner and opened the door, my heart sank because it didn’t look like Matty had moved.

Annabel was sitting quietly coloring, and Matty had made no attempt to get involved.

Patches was laid on the floor, face down.

By unspoken agreement Annabel and Daisy left. Daisy squeezed my hand as she walked past. I closed the door behind them, my heart sinking as I turned to face Matty. He sat perfectly still on the couch, staring at nothing.

"Little one?" I said softly, approaching him. "Would you like some lunch? I could make dinosaur-shaped sandwiches."

His shoulders tensed. "I'm not hungry."

The flatness in his voice worried me more than his refusal. I sat beside him, careful to leave a little space between us. "The police arrested Harold this morning. Embezzlement charges. You're safe now."

Matty nodded, but there was no relief in his expression. Just...emptiness.

"Maybe we could watch a movie?" I suggested. "Or I could read to you?"

"Stop it," he whispered, his hands clenching into fists on his lap.

"Stop what, baby boy?"

"That." His voice cracked. "Stop treating me like I'm...like I'm..."

"Like you?" I asked gently.

He flinched as if I'd struck him. "I can't be that anymore."

A protest rose in me, but I bit it back. My heart ached. “Matty—”

“No.” He shot to his feet so fast he winced, back arching. The welts would still hurt. “I thought I could keep being…like that. But James was right. It’s weakness. It’s what got me in this mess.”

I rose slowly, raising my hands in surrender. “Degrassi is wrong about everything. Your Little side isn’t a weakness—it's beautiful, and part of who you are.”

He laughed without humor, the sound bitter. “Who I was,” he spat. “It almost got people killed. Got you hurt. Your club burned down.” He hugged himself as if trying to staunch his own bleeding heart. “I can’t…I can’t be like that ever again.”

My ribs felt bruised by the weight of his shame. “Matty, look at me.” I waited until his gaze, wary and trembling, locked with mine. “What happened wasn’t because you’re a Little. It happened because your godfather is a greedy bastard who was stealing from you. None of this is your fault.”

He swallowed, blinking rapidly against tears. “But if I hadn’t…” His voice trailed off. “If I hadn’t been so needy, so childish, maybe I could’ve protected myself. Maybe I wouldn’t have been so easy to manipulate.”

My poor baby. So much guilt. “Come here,” I said, opening my arms.

He shook his head, stepping back. “I need to be stronger.”

“You’re the strongest person I know,” I told him, voice firm. “It takes more courage to be vulnerable than to put on a mask.”

“You don’t understand.” His voice cracked like glass. “When he had me…he called my Little side disgusting. Said it was pathetic.” He spat the last word as if it burned in his mouth. “And I have to believe him.”

A flash of rage flared in me. “That’s what abusers do, Matty. They twist the things you love about yourself until you hate them.” My hand struck the wall softly—but hard enough for him to flinch. I exhaled, ashamed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

He stared at me, wounded. “What if he’s right? What kind of grown man needs dinosaur pajamas and stuffed animals—”

“The kind who survived hell and found comfort where he could,” I said, stepping forward. “The kind who’s brave enough to show his whole self in a world that tells men to hide.” I paused, voice dropping to a whisper. “The kind I love.”

Matty’s head snapped up, eyes wide and glassy. “What did you say?”

My throat tightened. I hadn’t planned to say it now, not like this, but the words tumbled out anyway. “I love you. Not just as your Daddy or your husband on paper—I love you , Matty. All of you.”

For a moment, he didn’t move. Then tears spilled down his cheeks. “But why? I’m such a mess.”

“Because you’re kind,” I said, stepping even closer. I reached out, brushing a tear from his cheek. “Because you're brave. You gave up your safety to save strangers at the barbecue. Because you're cute. You stick your tongue out when you color. You’re clever and strong in ways you don’t even see.”

A small, broken sound escaped him. “I don’t feel strong right now.”

“You don’t have to be right now,” I whispered. “I’ll be strong for us both. I’ll hold you when you can’t stand. I’ll love every part of you—adult and Little.”

His shoulders trembled, the rigid control he’d maintained since the rescue finally cracking. He took a hesitant step forward, then another, until he collapsed into my arms, knees buckling.

I caught him, cradling him gently, mindful of his injured back. His whole body shook with sobs, face buried in my chest, as the fear and trauma he’d bottled up poured out.

“That’s it,” I murmured, stroking his hair. “Let it out, little one. I’ve got you.”

“I was so scared,” he gasped. “He said nobody would come. That nobody wanted me.”

“He lied,” I said, voice fierce. “I will always come for you, Matty. You're mine.”

I guided him back to the couch and settled him into my lap, wrapping my arms around him. He curled in tightly, small and fragile against me, tears soaking my shirt.

“I don’t want to be scared anymore,” he whispered once his sobs quieted to hiccups. He looked up at me, eyes red-rimmed but clearer than they’d been all morning. “I keep hearing his voice...telling me I’m weak for needing…” He trailed off, too ashamed to say the words.

“For needing your Little space?” I finished softly.

“There’s nothing weak about finding comfort.

The world is hard enough without denying yourself what brings you peace.

” I paused. "It's like riding my bike. Brings me peace.

" I chuckled. "They don't call me Bear just because of my size, you know.

Daisy said I'm like a bear with a sore head when I don't get to ride. "

He was quiet for a long moment, his fingers absently playing with the hem of my shirt. "When I was there, all I could think about was you. About coming home to you." His voice dropped to a whisper. "About being your little one again."

My throat tightened with emotion. "You can always be my baby boy. Whenever you want, however you want."

"Even after everything?" he asked, vulnerability written across his face.

"Especially after everything," I assured him. "Nothing has changed how I feel about you. If anything, I love you more for surviving."

Matty's eyes widened at my words, a flicker of hope replacing some of the shadows. "You really meant it? You...love me?"

"With everything I am," I said simply.

He reached up hesitantly, his fingers brushing my cheek. "I love you too," he whispered. "Not just because you rescued me or protect me. But because...you see me. All of me. And you still want me."

I turned my face to press a kiss against his palm. "Always will."

Something shifted in his expression then, a softness returning to his features that had been missing since his rescue. "Daddy," he said, the word tentative but deliberate, "can I have Patches?"

Relief flooded through me at this small but significant step. "Of course you can, little one." I reached down to where the stuffed dog had been abandoned on the floor and handed him to Matty, who clutched him to his chest with both arms.

"Sorry I dropped you," he whispered to the stuffie, then looked up at me with the ghost of a smile. "He was worried."

"I bet he was," I agreed. "He missed you very much." We both did.

Matty settled more comfortably against me, his body gradually relaxing as the tension he'd been carrying began to ease. "Can you tell us a story?" he asked softly. "Something with a happy ending?"

"I think I can manage that," I said, adjusting our position so his back wouldn't be strained. "Once upon a time, there was a very brave little boy who lived in a big, scary world..."

By the time I reached the part where the hero found his way back to the people who loved him, Matty's eyes had drifted shut, his grip on Patches relaxing slightly as sleep claimed him.

I continued the story anyway, my voice soft in the quiet cabin, promising safety and happy endings and a future where no monsters could reach him. When I finally fell silent, I just watched him sleep, grateful for each peaceful breath, each tiny movement that proved he was here, alive, with me.

A text from Jono vibrated in my pocket. I carefully shifted to check it without disturbing Matty.

DA confirmed Coombes is facing multiple charges. Financial crimes, conspiracy to commit kidnapping, attempted murder. Apparently—and get this—it was Degrassi. His lawyer was instructed to release everything if he died, and they’ve got enough evidence to send him away for life.

I frowned, wondering how Degrassi had that kind of access. Before I could respond, another text came through.

Bolt says Degrassi must have been gathering dirt on Coombes for years. Smart bastard.

A cold satisfaction settled in my chest.

How long will he be away? I texted back.

With the charges they have? 20+ years minimum. He's not getting out, Bear.

Relief washed through me. Matty was truly safe now. We both were.

I set my phone aside and carefully adjusted our position, settling in for what would likely be a long nap. Matty needed the rest, and I needed to hold him, to reassure myself that he was really here.

As I drifted toward sleep myself, I made silent promises to the man in my arms. To protect him always. To love all sides of him. To build a life together where he never had to be afraid again.

And as if he could hear my thoughts, Matty snuggled closer, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth even in sleep.