Chapter 22 #2
Matt made breakfast for the entire pack as they drifted in, looking tired and cold.
That fact should have reinforced that Matt’s loyalty, his attention, was spread thinly.
Instead, Jesse found himself watching Matt with an unexpected fondness.
When Matt said the alpha role was about protection, it hadn’t been just words.
He was living it, looking after them in every way he could.
Jesse might never understand the way Matt gave himself over to his pack without hesitation, why he took that sense of responsibility on himself. But it didn’t stop him admiring the hell out of it.
After breakfast, when Bryce and Tristan insisted on cleaning up, Matt glanced at Jesse. With a slight inclination of his head, he got Jesse to follow him to his room.
“I need to go to work,” he said. “As much as anything else, I want to see if I can pick up any intel on non-shifter channels about a stray pack out there, given that shifters know nothing about it. But when I get back, it would seem like a good idea for us to… talk.”
The pause before the final word made Jesse grin, tension fleeing. Matt still wasn’t one for talking about feelings and shit.
“If you have to,” he agreed.
Relief was in Matt’s eyes as he smiled at Jesse, a soft, pleased smile. But then he moved toward Jesse, and Jesse found himself taking an instinctive step back. Seemed his body remembered last night. Matt froze, picking up instantly on Jesse’s discomfort.
“You don’t ever touch me like that again,” Jesse told him.
“I won’t,” Matt said, holding Jesse’s warning gaze.
And Jesse believed him. But…
“That don’t mean you can’t touch me in other ways.” Because he definitely wanted some more of that Matt Urban sex.
The strain in Matt’s face vanished, and he laughed. “Don’t tempt me when I have to get to work,” he warned Jesse, but he moved toward him. Didn’t touch, but stood there, invitation in his gaze.
Jesse stepped forward to reach up and kiss him, plastering himself against Matt’s firm body, and gasping when Matt’s tongue slid into his mouth. It did a lot more while it was there, too, and when Matt finally drew back, Jesse was breathing unevenly.
“Fuck, Urban,” he said.
“Later,” Matt promised. And then he kissed Jesse again, another long, deep kiss that let Jesse know just how much he wanted this. Wanted Jesse.
* * *
With nothing else to do in Matt’s absence, Jesse had wanted to shift and explore the pack’s territory, but Matt had suggested to Jesse that he stay close to the house today.
It had come out more like an order than a suggestion, but Jesse appreciated the attempt.
And hell, the suggestion made sense if there might still be hostiles out there.
At a loose end, he curled up in one of the chairs on the porch and let himself sink into it.
It was damn comfortable—the kind of chair a person could get used to.
From here, he could see the land stretching out, watch the breeze stirring the trees.
It was quiet here, in a different way from the quiet he was used to. Not empty or lonely, just still.
He tipped his head back against the cushion, eyes drifting closed as he listened to the faint rustle of leaves, the distant calls of birds. No one here he had to guard against. No one wanting anything from him. Just space and peace.
Before he realized it, sleep stole over him.
* * *
He had no idea how much later it was when he woke. Stretching and rubbing at the crick in his neck, Jesse wondered how Matt was coping with a day at work after a night of no sleep. He’d have to tempt him to bed early tonight to make sure he caught up on sleep.
Karl didn’t seem to have stopped, either.
Jesse had already seen him slinking through the trees before breaking into an effortless lope, as if he hadn’t already been out there all night and half the day.
Kind of felt safe, knowing he was there.
He looked like he belonged here. But belonging came with strings attached.
Jesse shook his head, trying to dispel the circle of thoughts his mind was trapped in. He’d go to see Missy’s foal. That’d distract him.
But he got waylaid at the corral, where one of the horses—a big black with a flowing mane and a stubborn streak—had his head over the fence, bobbing as if he expected applause.
Jesse changed course. “You again?” he said, reaching out to rub behind the horse’s ears. The black shoved his head into Jesse’s chest like he’d been starved of care for years.
“You’re just an attention hog,” Jesse said, and kept rubbing.
“You got that right.”
Jesse glanced sideways to find Dave approaching, hands in his pockets and a smile tugging at his mouth. And Jesse kept staring, because Dave’s shirt…
“You wearin’ armadillos on roller skates?” he asked. “Pink ones?”
Dave glanced down at his shirt, which—hell, Jesse reckoned he deserved a medal for bravery, getting that close to the neon pink, fluorescent yellow and radioactive green creatures.
“Guess so,” he said, like it was nothing out of the ordinary, before nodding toward the horse.
“Christian’s spoiled him rotten. You pet him once, and he thinks it’s a lifelong contract. ”
Jesse snorted and scratched a little harder, earning another heavy lean. “Guess he’s not wrong.”
Dave stretched out a hand to the chestnut who had come over to the fence at the sight of him. “You’re staying, then?” he asked casually.
Jesse hesitated. “For a time,” he said, and was surprised that didn’t spin him into a panic. Probably because he could walk away any time. Unlike Dave, who as good as signed his life away when he joined the pack.
After a pause, Jesse asked, “You like it? Being in the pack?”
Dave gave him a long, thoughtful look. “Yeah,” he said, finally. “I do. You know someone’s always got your back. You’re never really alone.”
Jesse chewed on that. He wasn’t sure he liked the idea of never being alone. He didn’t know how to fit in anywhere. Even if he’d wanted to.
“Can I ask you something?” he asked after a while.
Dave nodded. “Sure.”
“You and Christian—you’re mates, right?”
“Yeah.”
Jesse kept his gaze on the horse’s nose. “What’s that even mean, exactly? You always together, always in each other’s space? Like, I dunno. Like you don’t get to breathe on your own anymore?”
Dave shook his head slightly. “It’s not like that. Not for us, anyway. Being mates means knowing I can be myself with him. It’s choosing each other, every damn day.”
But Dave hadn’t really answered Jesse’s question. “What if you need space?”
“I take it. And he gives it. But I know he’s still there when I’m ready to go back.”
Jesse nodded slowly. That didn’t sound like losing yourself. That sounded like trust. He kept stroking the horse’s cheek, idly wondering how he’d gotten horse spit on his shirt.
Dave sent the chestnut on its way and stood back from the rail. Jesse stayed where he was, petting the black’s cheek in slow, absent strokes. He didn’t look at Dave as he spoke again. “You’re healing up.”
“Yeah,” Dave said.
“I’m glad,” Jesse said, and he meant it. He wasn’t going to apologize because he hadn’t done anything wrong—and apologizing meant putting himself in a weak position, which was a dangerous place to be—but Dave seemed like he didn’t mean anyone any harm.
“Have you explored out there yet?” Dave asked.
Jesse pulled a face. “Promised Matt I’d stick close to the house for now,” he said.
Dave nodded, like he was so used to obeying Matt’s orders he didn’t see anything strange in anyone else doing it. A reminder of the bad things about being in a pack, the things Dave either couldn’t see anymore or never had seen.
“Another time, then,” Dave said, and turned away.
“Dave,” Jesse said all of a sudden to his retreating back.
He turned around and waited while Jesse tried to find the right words.
“Just don’t go sticking your face too close to any stray wolves,” he said. “You never know what bad-tempered assholes they’ll turn out to be.”
Dave shrugged. “But they might be more than they seem,” he said. “See you later, Jesse.”
Jesse turned back to the corral, something easing inside him.
MATT
His ardent hope for a quiet day, where he might be able to nod off at his desk without anyone noticing, was sunk before he even got to the office.
He’d only just reached town when a call came in about a break-in at the hardware store on Main.
By the time they’d dealt with that, another call had come in about a robbery at a liquor store.
By four o’clock, with the judicious application of gallons of Janice’s strong and bitter coffee, Matt was still just about awake.
And looking forward to going home, where Jesse would be waiting for him.
He was almost sure what he’d seen in Jesse that morning.
If he could just give Jesse enough time and space, then maybe he’d agree to stay.
Maybe he’d see pack wasn’t a threat. And maybe Matt should get his mind back on his job.
Bryce and Shannon were combing through CCTV footage when yet another call came in. This time, about a hit-and-run over on Latimer. Matt took Bryce with him. Call him paranoid, but this was a goddamn crime spree for the sleepy town of Elk Ridge.
The injured girl, eight-year-old Hailey Thomas, had already been taken to the hospital when Matt and Bryce reached the scene.
The only thing to tell this was the scene of a tragedy was the maroon child’s bicycle lying on the sidewalk, its frame bent and twisted.
A small circle of people gathered close by.
“It was a red Ram,” an eyewitness said. “It mounted the sidewalk and hit that little girl, like the driver was half blind or drunk. And then he drove off, leaving her there.” She wiped away tears. “Who would do something like that?”
It was a rhetorical question, but Matt would very much like it answered.
The town had its fair share of drunk drivers, but something was setting off internal alarms that he couldn’t rationalize.
His wolf had sensed something his conscious mind wasn’t yet grasping, and he’d learned to trust his wolf’s instincts.
He left the witness in the care of one of her neighbors after eliciting every last detail he could. He turned, scanning the quiet street. When Bryce met his eyes, Matt saw the same unease he was feeling. That was when it crystallized—his disquiet wasn’t about the accident. They were being watched.
He spun on his heel, narrowed eyes quartering the street in every direction, but he couldn’t see anything out of place. Just the hush of a neighborhood where most people were at work and the only sound was the faint ticking of lawn sprinklers.
As he headed back to his truck, a blue Corolla pulled away from the curb a few houses down, easing out into the road before turning onto Main.
There was nothing remarkable about it, no tinted windows or aftermarket rims, and no reason in the world why it should draw his attention. He knew the hit-and-run vehicle was a Ram. But his gut said something else.
He keyed his radio. “Dispatch, run a plate for me. Blue Toyota Corolla just pulled off Latimer and turned east on Main.”
By the time he reached his truck, Beth had radioed back. The car was a rental out of Denver, with no flags. Not exactly normal for the town but not suspicious either. Could be family having flown in to visit, taking a car from the airport.
“Something’s not right, Matt.”
Bryce’s low-voiced statement bugged him because he knew damn well something wasn’t right. The problem was, he didn’t know what, and without that knowledge, he was flying blind.
“Stay alert,” he said. “I’m going to the hospital to see if there’s any chance our victim’s talking.”
If she was still alive, because there was blood on the sidewalk. Not a great deal of it, but then an eight-year-old kid didn’t have much to lose. Something was badly wrong, and it had all started the day after Jesse had turned up on their doorstep. Matt didn’t believe in coincidences.