Chapter Three
“What’re you up to?”
Deputy Gilmore leaned his back against the wall opposite Santiago’s jail cell, arms crossed. “Never known a Salvador gang member to give up so easily.”
“Gang member,”
Santiago murmured derisively from where he sat on his cot. “Is that what you think? We’re a gang?”
Gilmore ticked off his reasons on his fingers. “Leathers. Motorcycles. Tavern. Disregard for the law.”
“Disregard?”
Santiago slowly stood, cocking his head. His canines ached to extend, his claws itching to swipe the smug expression off of Gilmore’s face. Wrapping his fingers around the bars, Santiago curled his lip. “Pot and kettle, Gilmore. Pot and kettle. Most of this department walks a crooked line, and you think we’re the ones who don’t respect the law?”
He snorted.
“Thugs never respect the law.”
Gilmore shot a fiery glare at him. “Lack of arrest doesn’t mean lack of crime, Mr. Garcia. I’ve served as a deputy for fifteen years, know this community well, and scum like you aren’t rare. You’re recycled.”
For a fleeting second, Gilmore’s eyebrows knitted together, his lips pressed into a razor-thin line, then his features eased. He relaxed his stance, slipping his hands into his pockets.
Something pissed off Gilmore, and Santiago doubted it was the scum comment.
“When’s the sheriff planning to officially retire?”
Santiago asked casually, leaning his shoulder against the bars.
The corner of the deputy’s mouth twitched into a faint sneer, disappearing with a swipe of his hand across his mouth. “Let’s keep our focus on you and leave department matters to those who actually work here.”
Santiago had hit a nerve. Interesting. This was his first real exchange with Gilmore, and it was revealing more than he’d anticipated about the cop. He couldn’t help but wonder what other cracks might be forming in the sheriff’s department. Jail was turning out to be unexpectedly enlightening.
Gilmore coveted Sheriff Mahoney's position, thinking he deserved it after fifteen years of questionable service. The way he crossed his arms and leaned back spoke volumes. He wasn’t just scrutinizing Santiago, but closing himself off.
“Fine.”
Santiago nodded. “Tell me what deal you have with Jacob Weaver.”
The deputy’s eyebrows lifted and lips parted a fraction of a second. He snorted, glancing away. “Deal?”
Gilmore glanced back at him. “You punched a guy in the face. Possibly broke his nose. That’s assault. No deal. Just charges.”
Reading Gilmore was too goddamn easy. Santiago was lowkey having fun while learning about the guy. That quick curl of the lip, the wrinkle of the nose—Jacob was like a bitter taste to the deputy.
“So, you showing up moments after I allegedly busted that bitch in his mouth was sheer coincidence?”
Santiago arched a brow, watching Gilmore closely.
He didn’t have to read microexpressions this time. Gilmore openly sneered at him. He clearly thought Santiago was scum. The game was no longer enjoyable. The prick knew nothing about him, yet dared to judge. A hot surge of anger pulsed through him, but Santiago restrained it.
All he wanted was to get back to Percy, frustrated he’d been forced into his compliance with Gilmore. Diablo had probably devoured the entire pot of spaghetti by now. The garlic bread was what Santiago had truly wanted.
And to spend time with his elegido .
“Is Jacob pressing charges or am I free to go?”
Santiago stepped back from the bars, and away from Gilmore before he shoved open the cell door and reminded Gilmore what a real threat looked like.”
“He hasn’t showed up yet.”
Gilmore tucked his thumbs into his utility belt and shrugged. “I can hold you up to forty-eight hours.”
He leaned in, sneering. “Or longer. You know, accidentally forget you’re back here.”
The threat was meant to provoke Santiago, ignite a reaction in him. But instead of the expected fury, he delivered a response cloaked in icy calm. “ Cuando el diablo descienda sobre ti, recuerda este momento, pendajo, ”
he murmured, a smile curling at the corners of his mouth as he punctuated the pact motto with a mocking kiss in the air.
When the devil descends upon you, remember this moment, asshole.
“What did you say?”
Gilmore’s hand rested loosely on the butt of his gun, his gaze narrowed.
“Go find a dictionary.”
Santiago returned to his cot and lay down, tucking his arm behind his head. His pack would come for him. Matias wouldn’t let Santiago rot in jail. And when he got out, he was hunting down Jacob.
Deputy Folger rounded the corner, giving Santiago a quick glance before addressing Gilmore. “His attorney’s here.”
“He has a lawyer?”
Gilmore snapped.
Santiago had a lawyer? Since when? Intrigued and puzzled, he sat up. “Send them back here.”
A tall figure appeared in the hallway, wearing a sharp suit. His hair was a stylish cascade of black, but it was the crisscross scar over his left eye that drew attention.
With him came the unmistakable scent of a hyena.
A low growl rumbled from Santiago’s throat. What game was this hyena playing, and how did he know about Santiago’s arrest?
Santiago’s gaze flicked to Gilmore, catching the brief smirk that vanished as quickly as it appeared. His mind raced. Jacob and Gilmore had orchestrated his arrest. Initially, he’d assumed it was a ploy so Jacob could get to Percy and Macey, but what if that wasn’t the case?
Diablo had been subdued by a tranquilizer that locked his beasts within his body. Was that why the hyena had come? To do the same to him?
The walls seemed to close in on him, and the harsh fluorescent lights flickered ominously overhead. Santiago’s gaze darted around the confined space, knowing full well that if the hyena produced a tranquilizer gun, there was no escape, nowhere to hide.
For the first time since his arrest, a cold, unrelenting fear gripped Santiago, its icy fingers wrapping around his spine.
Gilmore and Folger exited the hallway, leaving Santiago alone with the so-called lawyer. “You’re not a real attorney.”
The man merely shrugged, a shadow of indifference crossing his features. “I think that’s the least of your worries right now.”
Santiago curled his fingers around the cold metal bars, his muscles tense, ready to snap the door open if he had to. “Why are you here, mutt?”
he snarled.
A shadow of irritation flashed in the hyena’s eyes. “Quite the rescue operation. You snatched our subject before we’d finished with him. Killed some of my pack in the process.”
My pack. Santiago’s mind turned over those words. Diablo had escaped on his own, returning to the tavern with chains still tight around his wrists. But he and Santiago had gone back to that warehouse, only to be ambushed by hyenas. One of them had spilled the leader’s name. Was this man Rico, the hyenas’ alpha, or just a deluded subordinate dreaming of power?
“Rico.”
The hyena’s gaze remained impassive, his posture exuding an air of calculated control. “Does it matter?”
He cocked his head slightly. “You’re in a cage, and I hold the key.”
Santiago’s jaw clenched, his knuckles whitening as he tightened his grip on the bars. “If you’re here to tranquilize me like you did Diablo, you’ll have to shoot me first.”
A low, guttural growl rumbled in his throat. “I won’t go down without a fight.”
The corner of the hyena’s mouth twitched, a glimmer of amusement flickering in his eyes. “Tranquilize you? No, no. That would be too easy.”
He took a step closer to the cell, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “We have something far more interesting planned for you, wolf.”
“Whatever you’re planning, my pack will find me.”
Santiago’s voice was low, threatening. “And when they do, they’ll end you so fast even your ghost will hesitate to linger.”
The hyena chuckled, a dark, unsettling sound that echoed off the concrete walls. “Oh, I’m counting on it.”
He reached inside his suit jacket, withdrawing a small, metallic object. “In fact, I’m rather looking forward to meeting the infamous Matias Salvador.”
Santiago’s eyes widened a fraction as he recognized the device in the hyena’s hand. A tracking chip. His mind raced, piecing together the sinister puzzle. This wasn’t just about him. It was about his entire pack.
The hyena wanted to lure Matias and the others into a trap, using Santiago as bait.
“Not a chance in hell,”
Santiago snarled, his canines elongating, his claws extending. “I won’t let you hurt them.”
The hyena tsked, shaking his head. “You don’t have a choice, wolf.”
He nodded toward the cell door. “Cooperate or—”
A deep, menacing growl echoed through the hallway. Matias rounded the corner, his eyes glowing a fierce amber as he fixed his gaze on the hyena.
“Step away from my enforcer.”
Matias didn’t raise his voice, but the rumble of warning was clear as thunder. Santiago had never been happier to see his alpha. He would’ve kissed the guy, if the gesture wouldn’t have gotten him knocked on his ass by either Matias himself or Elijah.
“Wanted to put a tracker on me.”
Santiago crossed his arms. “I think this is Rico. He said he couldn’t wait to meet the infamous Matias Salvador.”
Matias’s gaze swept over the hyena, the air around him pulsing with restrained fury. The hyena’s expression twisted, equal parts displeasure and quiet amusement. “Ask and you shall receive. Not quite what I pictured.”
Ignoring him, Matias struck the floor with his boots, each step daring anyone to interrupt. He stepped into Santiago’s line of sight and locked eyes with him. “You good?”
“Be even better if I can get out of this cage,”
Santiago muttered, brushing a hand over his jeans like he hadn’t just been gearing up to murder someone a minute ago. The hyenas thought they’d found a crack in the armor, but all they’d done was remind the wolves why the armor was there.
Footsteps echoed down the hallway. Santiago didn’t need to look to know it was Gilmore.
“I take it you’re here to escalate things,”
the deputy drawled as he came into view, his gaze flicking between Matias and the hyena, who stood off to the side, studying Matias.
“No,”
Matias said, voice calm but razor sharp. “I’m here to pick up Santiago.”
“I doubt that.”
Gilmore hooked his thumbs into his utility belt, rocking slightly on his heels. “He’s facing charges—”
The deputy stopped mid-sentence when Matias raised a finger and began texting on his phone.
The hyena silently watched, smirking and shaking his head as if Gilmore was an idiot for allowing Matias to take control.
“Now hold on a damn minute,”
Gilmore said, his words laced with false confidence.
The look Matias gave the deputy could have frozen the depths of hell.
Gilmore visibly flinched as footsteps approached. Jacob Weaver walked around the corner, still nursing a bruised face, eyes avoiding everyone else’s.
“Mr. Weaver has something to say,”
Matias said.
Jacob shifted awkwardly. “I... I don’t wanna press charges.”
Gilmore narrowed his eyes. “Why the sudden change of heart?”
Whatever had happened, Jacob had had the fear of god put into him. But Santiago’s grudge against the human was far from over. The son of a bitch had set him up, had ruined his evening with Percy.
And cost him his garlic bread.
Gilmore looked like he wanted to spit nails. His nostrils flared as he stared between them, jaw ticking. “You expect me to just let him go?”
“I expect you to open that cell door,”
Matias replied. “Legally, you don’t have a choice.”
The deputy’s mouth flattened into a grim line. He looked like he was chewing glass. Santiago wanted to chuckle, to flip the guy off for setting him up. But this went so much deeper than a simple arrest.
Rico’s presence—and Santiago was convinced it was the hyena alpha—meant Gilmore was working with him.
With exaggerated slowness, he reached for his keys. Santiago met his gaze head-on, his stance relaxed, but there was nothing casual about the tension radiating off him. The deputy unlocked the cell and pulled the door open with a creak.
“You’re free to go, Mr. Garcia.”
“Try not to sound so heartbroken,”
Santiago said dryly as he stepped out.
Gilmore ignored him, turning on his heel and stalking off, the weight of his fury trailing behind him like a shadow. Seconds later, Rico followed, but his gaze locked on to Santiago before he disappeared around the corner.
Prick.
As they exited the station, Santiago glanced sideways. “Thanks for showing up when you did.”
Matias nodded once. “You thought for a second I’d leave you in Gilmore’s hands?”
“Not a single doubt in my mind.”
The hyena may have come to gloat. He may have come to start something worse. But he'd miscalculated one key thing.
The Salvador pack didn’t fold. It circled, because family didn’t leave family behind.
* * * *
Night had fully descended, with the sun long gone beyond the horizon. A gentle breeze rustled through the trees, while the moon hung in the sky like a glowing pearl against the dark velvet.
Santiago stood in his driveway, uncertain whether to turn right toward his house or left toward Percy’s. For two months, Santiago had made his feelings clear, hoping for a sign from Percy that he wanted to take things further.
But everything changed when Tito traumatized Percy.
Santiago turned right and sank onto his porch steps with a sigh, rubbing his chest as his nerves felt scraped raw.
As far as he knew, Percy had no idea about the existence of wolves. Telling him would be challenging, and forming a bond after what Tito did would be even more difficult.
Santiago wished he could kill Tito a hundred times over. The image of Percy in the hospital bed, surrounded by tubes and IV lines, still haunted him.
Diablo settled next to him on the steps, leaning back on his elbows, ankles crossed, and stretching his legs out like he owned the night. “Figured you’d be at Percy’s door the second you got out.”
“Figured you’d be in a spaghetti coma by now.”
With a smirk, Diablo glanced over at him. “Suero was one granny cookie away from full-blown adoption,”
he said, his voice a low rumble of amusement. “Hovered like Macey was made of glass. Arms twitchin’. Tray in hand like he was defusing a bomb.”
Santiago raised an eyebrow. “You’re lying.”
“ Hmm. Am I though?”
He thrust his arms out and whispered dramatically, ‘“Here, let me get that.’ Like she couldn’t handle picking up garlic bread. Swear, he was ready to mop the ceiling if she asked.”
Santiago chuckled, imagining the scene and pissed that he’d missed it. “Since you’re bringing up Macey, I take it she got home safely?”
“Yeah, she walked in while we were all still there. For a second, I thought she’d faint.”
Diablo glanced at the sky. “Said she had a flat tire and had to wait to get it fixed.”
It was a relief to hear it was just a flat and nothing more serious. Percy adored his mother and would’ve been devastated if anything happened to her.
“He’s still up.”
Diablo stood and stretched, joints popping. “Pretending to watch TV in the living room.”
As Santiago looked him over, he thought of Rico. The hyena had wanted him to betray his entire pack. Un-fucking-real. “Any changes yet?”
Diablo walked toward his motorcycle parked in front of Percy’s house, tossing a casual peace sign into the air.
Guess that means no .
The engine roared to life, breaking the night’s silence, before Diablo rode off down the street.
Santiago closed his eyes, leaning his head back to savor the fresh breeze after being locked in that dimly-lit cell. It was Gilmore who had framed him, with Jacob merely serving as a pawn.
The real culprits were the deputy and Rico. Had the hyena alpha simply bribed Gilmore or was the cop aware of the existence of shifters? Santiago had too many questions and no answers.
Currently, Matias was at the tavern, alerting the pack about Rico’s deception and advising them to stay vigilant. As soon as Diablo arrived, he would be informed too. But the brother didn’t need to be warned. He’d witnessed firsthand what the hyenas were up to and had been on high alert since.
Santiago sensed the moment he was no longer alone. Percy’s scent filled his lungs, and he inhaled deeply.
His mate.
Percy had tried to prevent the arrest, but Elijah had held him back. The echoes of his shouts still lingered in Santiago’s mind. Three hours in a holding cell had done little to dull the memory.
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were home,”
he huffed. “Instead, you’re out here relaxing like nothing happened.”
Santiago grinned at his mate’s frustration. “ Dime cuánto me extranaste, hermosa .”
Tell me how much you missed me, beautiful .
“ Muchísimo, cuchara .”
Very much, spoon.
Santiago chuckled as he opened his eyes, gazing at the most gorgeous man he’d ever seen. “I can’t believe how much I’ve missed your random-ass Spanish, carino .”
“Random?”
Percy seemed highly offended, with his hands resting between his knees. “I’ll have you know I speak fluent Spanish,”
he retorted, sniffing indignantly. “There’s nothing random about me.”
Wait. Did he really believe he was making sense? “You just called me a spoon.”
Percy blinked several times, as if Santiago’s comment didn’t register. He felt an overwhelming urge to kiss that puzzled expression right off his face.
“You’re trippin’,”
Percy scoffed then held up his finger and wiggled it. “ Volé la clase de espanol con lápices .”
I flew Spanish class with pencils. He smirked at Santiago .
Unable to hold back, Santiago burst into a full-bodied laugh, the deep sound startling some nearby birds into taking flight.
Percy’s lips twitched. “Told ya.”
“I stand corrected.”
He raised a hand, palm out to stop his mate from saying more.
Instead, Percy misinterpreted the gesture and gave Santiago a high-five. His mate had touched him. It was the first physical contact since Percy had come home from the hospital.
“I’m sorry I missed your spaghetti.”
Santiago turned somber. “I was really looking forward to it.”
Percy averted his gaze, his knees pressing tighter against his hands. “You didn’t miss much.”
Santiago raised his hand to tuck some stray golden strands behind Percy’s ear, but stopped short, letting his hand drop. “I missed out on a meal you made, carino .”
A meal Percy had fought against his fears to prepare. It wasn’t just about the food, but about enjoying it after a hard-fought battle.
That meant something to Santiago, and he regretted missing the chance.
Percy looked at him, fierce determination in his eyes, then leaned in and kissed the hell out of him.