Chapter Fourteen
Arrow held the small piece of wood between his thumb and forefinger, squinting at the crude shape that was supposed to resemble a wolf’s head.
If he tilted his head and ignored half the details, it almost looked right.
The other half looked like he’d attacked it with his teeth instead of the whittling knife.
“You’re getting better,” Calvin said from across the workshop table, not looking up from the intricate chair leg he was carving.
“You’re a terrible liar.” Arrow set the piece down and flexed his fingers. He’d nicked himself twice already today.
Levi snorted from the other end of the workshop where he was sanding a cabinet door. “Give him some credit, Cal. That one only looks half-melted instead of fully melted.”
“Thanks.” Arrow picked up the knife again. “Your encouragement means everything to me.”
The three of them worked in companionable silence, punctuated by the rasp of sandpaper and the occasional curse when Arrow’s knife slipped again.
Being in the old sawmill had become Arrow’s favorite part of the day - well, aside from the nights curled up with Flint, and the mornings waking up to his mate’s scent, and the afternoons in the greenhouse watching Flint fuss over his strawberry plants.
Okay, fine. Every part of the day is my favorite.
He’d been living in the Alley for three weeks, and Arrow still couldn’t quite believe how much his life had changed.
There were no alarm clocks or commutes to worry about.
He didn’t have to spend hours creating or studying reports, and most of all, he didn’t have to worry about Patterson breathing down his neck about case closure rates.
Instead, he had whittling lessons and greenhouse time, and there had even been evenings when he’d shown off his cleaning skills.
One of his and Flint’s favorite things to do was to learn to cook, watching video tutorials.
Fortunately, Calvin and Levi always had leftovers if their efforts weren’t edible.
“You planning to finish that before Flint gets back from his run?” Calvin asked, nodding toward the misshapen wolf head.
“It’s optimistic of you to assume I’ll ever finish it.” Arrow studied his handiwork critically. “I was going for ‘noble wolf pendant,’ but I think I’ve achieved ‘diseased hamster.’”
“The secret is patience,” Levi said, setting down his sandpaper and walking over.
He picked up Arrow’s piece, turning it over.
“You’re rushing the detail work. See here?
” He pointed to a particularly mangled section.
“You tried to carve the whole muzzle in one go instead of building it up in layers.”
Arrow leaned in, watching as Levi demonstrated the proper technique with a few careful strokes. The wood curled away in delicate ribbons, revealing the suggestion of a snout beneath.
“Oh.” Arrow blinked and looked again. “That’s...that actually looks like something.”
“Give it another week, and you might have something worth giving to your mate.” Levi handed the piece back. “Assuming you don’t cut off all your fingers first.”
“Flint would still love me with stumps for hands.”
“Probably,” Calvin agreed. “Though it’d make certain activities more difficult.”
Arrow’s phone buzzed on the workbench before he could formulate a comeback. He glanced at the screen, expecting a text from Flint about dinner plans.
Instead, Jack’s name flashed across the display.
His wolf stirred uneasily. Jack hadn’t called since Arrow quit. They’d texted a few times - surface-level stuff about the weather and how Jack’s latest case was going – but an actual phone call felt ominous.
Arrow answered. “Jack?”
“Hey, man.” Jack’s voice sounded strained. “Got a minute?”
“Yeah, sure.” Arrow set down his knife and walked toward the workshop entrance, stepping outside into the afternoon sun. “What’s up?”
“It’s Patterson.”
Arrow’s stomach dropped. “What about him?”
“He’s losing his shit.” Jack lowered his voice like he was worried about being overheard. “He’s been ranting to anyone who’ll listen about how you were abducted by assassins and the agency needs to mount a rescue operation.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. I wasn’t abducted by assassins.” Arrow pinched the bridge of his nose. “At least not plural. It was one assassin, there was no abduction involved because I went running after him, and on top of all that, he’s my mate.”
“I know that. You know that. Patterson knows but doesn’t care.” Jack sighed. “He filed a formal complaint with agency higher-ups claiming the assassin division is holding agency personnel hostage. He’s demanding they investigate.”
“For fuck’s sake.” Arrow paced the length of the workshop’s exterior, his boots crunching on gravel. “I quit. I handed in my badge. There’s nothing to investigate. I don’t work there anymore and haven’t for more than a month.”
“You embarrassed him when you walked out.” Jack’s tone gentled. “And you know how Patterson is. He can’t let it go. He’s convinced himself you were coerced or manipulated or some other bullshit. He keeps saying no wolf in his right mind would throw away a career for ‘some twink assassin.’”
Arrow’s wolf snarled at the disrespect in Patterson’s words.
It was bad enough when the man was dismissive when Arrow had been quitting, but it was ten times worse now that Arrow had claimed his mate.
His vision tinged red at the edges, claws pricking at his fingertips.
“I’d like to know how the hell he knows anything about my assassin at all, and if he calls Flint that again… ”
“Easy.” Jack’s voice cut through the haze of rage.
“I’m on your side here, and if you recall, you made a lot of noise looking for your mate’s address in the agency.
It wouldn’t have been hard for Patterson to work out who he was.
I just thought you should know Patterson’s looking to cause trouble.
He’s got a few friends in upper management, and there’s a good chance they’re taking his complaint seriously. ”
“They could’ve just called me themselves.” Arrow forced himself to breathe, to pull his wolf back under control. “What kind of trouble?”
“The kind where they show up at your door with questions.” Jack paused. “Or worse, they try to pull your mate in for questioning about agency operations. Patterson’s claiming Flint must have dirt on you, or that he’s blackmailing you into staying.”
“That’s insane.”
“Yeah, well, Patterson’s not exactly rational right now.” Paper rustled in the background. “Look, I just wanted to give you a heads up. Watch your back, okay? And maybe...I don’t know, get ahead of this somehow before it blows up in your face.”
Arrow’s mind raced. Official complaints were a serious business in an agency that worked in the shadows. Patterson had always been petty, but stirring shit with management was a whole new level of vindictive bullshit.
“Thanks for the warning,” Arrow said finally. “I mean it, Jack. You didn’t have to call.”
“Yeah, I did.” Jack’s voice softened. “You’re my friend, Arrow. And from what little you’ve told me, it sounds like you’re actually happy for the first time since I’ve known you. I’m not going to let Patterson fuck that up if I can help it.”
Something warm uncurled in Arrow’s chest. “I am happy. Happier than I’ve ever been.”
“Then that’s all that matters.” Jack cleared his throat like he was uncomfortable with the sentiment. “I’ve got to go. Patterson just walked past my desk. Call me if you need anything, yeah?”
“Yeah. Thanks, Jack.”
The line went dead.
Arrow stood there for a long moment, phone still pressed to his ear, trying to process what he’d just heard. Patterson was actively trying to cause problems. The agency - his former employer, and Flint’s actual employer - might actually show up here looking for answers.
Fuck.
“Is everything okay?”
Arrow spun around. Flint stood a few feet away in his running clothes - shorts that showed off his legs and a tank top clinging to his sweat-dampened skin. His blond hair stuck up in several directions, and his cheeks were flushed from exertion.
Beautiful. Even worried and windblown, Flint was still the most beautiful thing Arrow had ever seen.
“Flint.” Arrow pocketed his phone. “How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough to hear you tell someone I’m your mate and that you’re happy.” Flint walked closer, his huge eyes searching Arrow’s face. “Also long enough to know something’s wrong. Who was that?”
“It was Jack, my old partner from cybercrimes.” Arrow reached out, unable to help himself, and tucked a strand of hair behind Flint’s ear. “He called to warn me that Patterson’s causing trouble.”
Flint’s expression hardened. “What kind of trouble? You don’t work for him anymore.”
“The kind where he filed a complaint with upper management claiming I was abducted and coerced into staying here.” Arrow’s jaw clenched. “He’s convinced himself you’re blackmailing me or some shit.”
“Me?” Flint’s eyebrows climbed toward his hairline. “I’m blackmailing you?”
“Apparently. Because no wolf in his right mind would choose a ‘twink assassin’ over a promising career in cybercrimes.”
Flint flinched at the slur, and Arrow immediately regretted repeating it.
“Those are Patterson’s words,” Arrow said quickly, cupping Flint’s face and wiping a bead of sweat off with his thumb. “Not mine. Never mine. We’re past that now.”
“I know.” Flint leaned into the touch. “But that’s what people think when they look at me, isn’t it? That I’m just some pretty little thing who couldn’t possibly be dangerous.”
“People are idiots.” Arrow kissed him softly. “And Patterson’s the biggest idiot of them all.”
Flint pulled back, his expression turning thoughtful. “We need to talk to Cyrus.”
“Why?”