Please Don’t Pet the Moose
Please Don’t Pet the Moose
SAM
FIVE MONTHS, TWENTY-THREE DAYS, AND THIRTEEN HOURS AGO
“ H ey Sammy, wait up!”
With his face still stinging, Sam ignored the call and pushed his way out the front door he’d stormed into just minutes earlier, rushing down the path to his car.
What the fuck had he been thinking, barging into someone else’s house that way?
The text he’d received from Cain an hour ago flashed through his mind.
Unknown Number
I see Finn from Private Security Solutions is looking after your brother well. Maybe a little too well?
Along with the message, he’d sent a photo of Jaime and one of the bodyguards—the blonde one—standing close to each other outside his cabin. Standing very close to each other.
It’d scared the shit out of him—that’s what he’d been thinking. He didn’t want Cain or any of his criminal connections anywhere near Jaime. How had he known who his private security was, anyway? Were they somehow connected?
Surely not.
Sam had nearly run to his car after he’d read the message, tracking down the Silver Rapids address he was given for where Jaime was staying after the attack at his cabin the night before.
He’d planned to pull Jaime out, make sure they hadn’t hurt him, and then… Well, he hadn’t figured the rest out yet. He’d just needed to get Jaime away from anyone associated with Cain, and if that meant firing the security detail he’d bargained with the Devil himself to afford, so be it.
Upon bursting into the stranger’s house and rushing up the stairs to find Jaime wrapped up in bed with that same bodyguard, he may have overreacted.
When he’d watched that security guard turn into a giant, hairy beast-man, he’d definitely overreacted.
Or had he? It wasn’t his finest moment, for sure—but come on. The dude looked like he’d come straight from eating grandma, and not in a fun way.
“Wait, please don’t go,” the other wolfman-werewolf- whatever said, still following Sam to his car. The big one. Silas, maybe?
Sam ignored him again.
The sight of Jaime’s hurt and angry face moments after hitting him still smarted, even more than the burn on his cheek, and he didn’t need the bigger hairy oaf to rub salt in the wound.
Really, could this day get any worse?
Just as he made it to his car and almost had the door open, a giant hand reached out and held it shut. “Wow, you’re fast for such a little guy,” the big one said, panting over Sam’s shoulder.
Apparently, it can.
Sam turned and glared; that look usually made the people who tried to sell him things from those little huts in the mall go away. “Excuse me?”
The giant oaf rubbed the back of his neck. “Fuck—I mean, shit—fuck! I mean, I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to offend. I like it. Your height, that is. Compact. Nice. You should see me try to get on a plane, it’s an absolute nightmare. I have to buy two tickets. I bet you don’t have that problem. That’s good,” he said before he snapped his mouth shut like he just realized he’d been rambling like a complete idiot.
It was on the tip of Sam’s tongue to tell him just that. Anyone else, and he would have without a thought. But the way this giant man stood there, looking down at him with that I’m sorry, please like me look on his face with one fang peeking out, struck something deep in Sam’s chest, and gave him an overwhelming sense of déjà vu.
Sam shook off the strange feeling. This day was already weird enough. “Great, glad you approve. Wanna know my shoe size, too? Do you have a ruler handy for a little one-to-one comparison?”
The giant oaf’s face split into a smirk, and again, Sam had the strangest sense that he’d seen it before. “I came out here to apologize for how all that went down in there, but I’ll never pass up an opportunity to get to know you better,” he said with a wink.
A fucking wink.
Now it was Sam’s turn to feel on the back foot, heat creeping up the nape of his neck. “That’s not—I wasn’t—stop that. I’m leaving. Move.” He shoved at Giant Oaf’s arm, who didn’t even give Sam the courtesy of pretending like he had to brace against the move.
Continuing to hold the car door shut, he only stepped closer to Sam. “Look, that was a shit show. Can we start over? I’m Silas.” He stuck out his other hand.
Again, any other time, Sam would have sneered and walked away. Instead, he found himself reaching for it without a thought; like they were always meant to meet right there, with Sam’s cheek burning and that stupid, crooked grin on Silas’ face.
Something hot and bright zipped up Sam’s arm when Silas’ warm grip dwarfed his own.
Maybe it was time for a health physical.
He cleared his throat, soothed by the contact. “I’m Sam. And I was just as much of an idiot in there,” he said, pointing back toward the house. “It’s clear Jaime doesn’t want me here, so I’ll leave. As long as he’s safe and happy, I won’t tell anyone about… whatever you are. You don’t need to threaten me. I don’t really give a fuck, to be honest. Now please, can I get in my car?”
Giant Oaf frowned. “I would never threaten you, and I don’t blame you for how you reacted. I’m sorry you had to find out that way. How’s your face feeling? You should ice it. And put a coat on, it’s chilly.”
“You’re sorry I found out my brother is fucking his security guard, or that you all can turn into giant, radioactive beavers? And my face is fine; I’ll wear a coat if I want to,” Sam huffed, crossing his arms. The wind was a bit nippy, but he’d be damned if he admitted that now.
“It’s not—wait, beavers? You think we look like beavers? Really? Have you ever taken an outdoor safety course? Wildlife identification? You do know the moose aren’t friendly, right? They kill way more people than bears or wolves do. They’re the big, four-legged horse-looking things. Some of them have antlers. They’re grumpy assholes, and they’ll trample you in a heartbeat,” Giant Oaf said in a rush. As he was speaking, he raised his arms and mimed a set of moose antlers on his head, turning this way and that.
Sam gaped.
Who was this guy? What the fuck did he care if Sam had taken an outdoor safety course? How had this conversation even started?
“Yes, I know not to pet the fucking moose. And my inability to identify you when you’re a giant, hairy creature has nothing to do with my wildlife identification skills , and everything to do with the fact that you need a bath and a goddamn hairbrush. Now, for the last time, move!”
The giant oaf finally stepped back when Sam pushed, releasing his hold on the door.
Sam peered around, the loud echo of his outburst reminding him they were speaking outside, where anyone could hear. Where Cain could hear.
Clearly, he was having Jaime followed; was he doing the same for Sam?
“Are you alright?” Giant Oaf asked, glancing around like Sam had just done, as if to look for the threat he couldn’t see. “Is there someone following you? Or someone you’re expecting to meet here?”
Sam tensed. Big Moose Man saw too much, and he hated it. “No. Right, I’m leaving. You know, in case any moose are lurking nearby,” he said, unable to help the snark.
Finally able to open the car door, he stepped inside and hit the lock button the second it closed behind him.
The giant oaf was staring at Sam with a strange intensity; it tugged on him, demanding his attention. Almost as if he couldn’t help it, he rolled down his window instead of immediately driving off the way he’d planned. “I still expect regular reports on my brother's well-being."
Silas leaned down, resting an elbow on the window. His eyes were gentle. “They’re not just fucking, you know. Finn will protect Jaime with his life. I promise you don't have to worry about his safety when Finn is around. I’ll swing by your place tomorrow morning to update you, how’s that sound?”
Sam stiffened at the soft understanding in his voice. Too much. He saw too much. “A phone call would be sufficient.”
Silas smirked. “But how will I know if you’re staying away from the moose that way?”
Sam rolled his eyes. “You’re ridiculous,” he mumbled, putting the car in reverse and backing out before he found another reason to stay and talk to the giant man with familiar, knowing eyes.
He felt the weight of that stare the whole way back to his apartment, well after Silas had disappeared from Sam’s rearview mirror. And even though he knew he was driving in the right direction, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was going the wrong way.