Damon rested his forehead carefully against Micah’s. “I’ll kill him,” he vowed, tone gentle, but eyes mad.

Micah felt his own fill with water.

“This is your boyfriend? Damon fucking Romano?” Abram’s voice was loud and incredulous, spearing through the serenity of the moment. Micah’s father seemed stuck between disbelieving and horrified.

Damon tensed at the man’s outburst. “What the fuck is it to you, pig?” he demanded, turning in Micah’s father’s direction. That’s when he seemed to realize they were surrounded by cops, and all of them were staring. “What are you looking at? Quit standing around and do your fucking jobs.”

It was then that Micah realized Caprice hadn’t told him. Before that moment, he hadn’t realized he’d selfishly been hoping that she had, so he wouldn’t have to say the words himself.

“How dare you?” Abram spat, red creeping up his neck. “Do you know who I am?”

Damon sneered. “I don’t need to know. All you pigs are the same.”

“Do you lump my son in with the rest of us as well?” Abram demanded, growing angrier by the second. “Because I’m sure he’d be please to know what his supposedly loving boyfriend really thinks of him.”

Damon’s face twisted in annoyance. “Do you have dementia, old man? I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, but you need to back up out of Micah’s space before you really start to piss me off.”

Micah wasn’t sure what hurt worse – the pounding in his head or the ache in his chest, where he assumed his heart was preparing itself for imminent despair. Either way, he knew he needed to step in before things escalated. After all, odds were both of the men in front of him were packing.

Micah dragged in a shaky breath. “It’s fine, Damon. This… this is my father.”

Damon froze in place.

Micah couldn’t see his expression, not with his back turned, but when the man slowly spun to face him, Micah took note of how every one of his muscles had tensed. His expression, which had been so open with swirling, chaotic emotion a moment ago was now almost entirely shuttered. Only his eyes, blue and hyper-focused on Micah, remained burning with feeling. They demanded an explanation.

So Micah forced himself to give one. “Damon, this is Captain Abram Hart of the 105th precinct. He’s my dad.” He gestured vaguely at the others who surrounded them. “This is Detective Tessa Gallagher and Detective Yusuf Jensen, also of the 105th precinct. They’re my friends… and colleagues.”