Chapter Three
Lionel
The gas station didn’t have any flashlights available for sale. Not a single one. Undeterred, Lionel went to the next one. The man behind the counter there laughed in his face when he asked for flashlights and some batteries that would fit them.
“What do you need a flashlight for, let alone batteries for it?” The man had a wide, florid face and obviously thought that teasing people was a great way to get return customers. “I can tell you’re a lion shifter. You can see perfectly well in the dark.”
Lionel forced a smile. “That might be the case for me, my friend,” he said sarcastically.
“However, the event that I’m going to tonight is in some particularly dark and spooky places.
I figure that some of my less fortunate companions—people I have yet to meet—might not be so blessed in the eyesight department.
” He leaned his elbow on the counter. “Surely you can help a man out when he just wants to be the hero of the hour with a handy light source.”
“You make a good argument, and I wish I could help you out, but honestly, you’re just going to have to tell your new companions to cling closely to you, so you can guide them to where you they need to go.
Should make for an interesting evening.” The man shook his head, still chuckling.
“A lion shifter asking for a flashlight. I’ve heard everything tonight. ”
“Hey, at least I’m sober,” Lionel said, straightening up again. “I’m guessing that won’t be true of some of your customers coming in later.”
“A truer word has never been spoken.” Nothing seemed to dent the gas station attendant’s good humor.
“I’ve been in this game a long time, and that’s why I take this shift.
I’m off in ten minutes. It’s better to leave it to the younger guys to deal with those assholes who can’t tell a fuel cap from an oil plug.
You’ve definitely given me something to chuckle about on my drive home. ”
“Glad I could top off your day.” Lionel didn’t want to embarrass himself any further by going to yet another gas station, so he headed out to the event address instead.
The tour was being held in an area Lionel was unfamiliar with.
But he had a phone with a map app, so it wasn’t as though he was going to get lost. He didn’t feel any better though, when he pulled into a huge parking lot.
There were no streetlights. Just clusters of people standing around—he could see that much —and one freaking flashlight.
One flashlight on somebody’s phone. That had to be the organizer.
This is not going to be good. Lionel’s stomach was churning as he forced himself out of the car. He would’ve turned the car around and gone home, but Remy, who he remembered from the dance classes, was pointedly looking at him. I’ll look like an idiot if I back out now.
It was a large crowd, probably twenty to thirty people.
All men of different sizes, although for some reason it was as if someone had grouped them according to size.
Can’t think why. Bigger men were all in one area.
On the other side of Remy was a group of smaller guys, and hovering in the middle were four people who seemed to be nerdy friends of middling height who were whispering among themselves.
He didn’t recognize any of the faces, but Lionel figured that one of the larger guys was probably the foreman that Morty kept talking about. Yeah, I don’t need him to sniff out the fact that I’m terrified of everything , Lionel decided, shifting away without being obvious toward the other group.
The cuties were cute, and on any other day when the sun was out, he’d be smiling and being his charming self.
Except Lionel had always struggled to recognize shorter people’s shifter types.
Normally that wouldn’t be a problem—Lionel definitely wasn’t speciest—but some shifters could sense emotions better than others.
Lionel was likely oozing a shit ton of negativity and fear, and he was terrified of anyone finding out.
Remy was clearly waiting for someone, and sure enough, there was one latecomer.
Remy showed his teeth as he ticked the last man off his list—another curly-haired cutie who seemed to be doing a lot of looking around.
He’ll end up in the omega group for sure, Lionel thought. Like attracts like… in most cases.
He stood to one side, not close to any of the groups who’d gravitated together. Remy made his welcoming speech, and Lionel might have muttered a few asides—they got a laugh out of the alpha group. While Lionel was still debating going back to his car before it was too late, it became too late.
They were off.
On a ghost tour.
Looking for things Lionel prayed weren’t real, in the pitch bloody dark, because Remy was the only one with a flashlight.
“Please don’t use your phone flashlights unless absolutely necessary.
We don’t want to ruin the ambience of our spooky evening for anyone.
I’m sure you’ll all be fine and be able to see perfectly clearly,” Remy said with a gleeful titter.
“If you’re struggling at all, I’m sure someone will offer to hold your hand.
Let’s head over to Alexander and get this event underway. ”
Lionel followed behind everyone else like a freaking duckling waddling after its mother. His anxiety grew with every step he took away from his car.
This was a mistake.
I should not be here.
I should have just not come.
I could have pleaded an accident.
I could have just gone on holiday somewhere.
Is it too late to leave town?
Clearly, it was because the tour had already started. The tour guide, Alexander, started waffling on about some murder or other that had occurred in a rather dank-looking space that to Lionel’s eyes looked like a wooden building that a hurricane had picked up and just plopped in a lot.
While some of the crowd oohed and aahed and there were a few quiet shrieks followed by giggles, Lionel flat out did not like it. If I wanted history, I’d read a book.
He was nowhere near his comfort zone. He didn’t recognize any of the street signs—the few that there were—or any landmarks.
His agitation was growing, and Lionel really didn’t know what to do. He could imagine any of his friends telling him to make the best of it. Have a good time anyway , but Lionel was ready to jump out of his skin.
“Aren’t you having a good time?”
Fuck. Lionel glanced to his side. Remy was beside him, phone in hand, except his flashlight was extinguished.
“It’s not really my thing,” he admitted, remembering to smile at the last minute. “A friend bought tickets for me, and another friend, but he couldn’t come this evening. I’m a bit out of my depth here.”
“I guessed it was something like that. I remember you from the dance classes. You were a lot livelier there.” Remy patted his arm. “Thank you so much for my shoes.”
Lionel felt his face flush, and for the first time that night was glad that it was really dark.
“I’m glad you could get something you enjoyed with that money.
Thanks to you, and me in a small way, Hector and Morty are wonderfully happy and expecting a new pup soon.
They bought me the tickets for this event as a thank you. ”
Remy had a delightful laugh. “You don’t need to make it sound like they’re punishing you. They clearly wanted you to get out a bit more and extend your friendship group. That’s what the Bucket List Buddies is all about.”
“Yeah, I can see that. It’s a great organization, and you do a wonderful job. It’s just… if I could have gone to any other one of your events, I’d probably be having a better time,” Lionel finished lamely. “This is definitely a case of ‘me’ not ‘you’. This isn’t really my thing.”
“Thank you, and it’s all right.” Remy patted his arm again.
“There’s a pub at the end of this, in case you didn’t hear me say so earlier.
Once you’ve had a couple of drinks, you’ll settle down.
You can get to know some of these fun people, and I’m sure you’ll have a wonderful time.
How do you feel about hot air ballooning? ”
Lionel looked down at the smaller man, sure his shock was showing. “Hot air ballooning?”
“Yes.” Remy nodded eagerly. “I’m thinking of setting that up as the next event. Do you think it would go down well?”
“I can see the appeal.” Lionel nodded. “Less walking than this, and people are in an enclosed space, so they’re going to get to know each other that way. It’s a shame I didn’t know that was happening, or I could have swapped my ticket out from this event to that one.”
Remy clearly thought he was joking. He wasn’t.
“You can do both of them. We really don’t mind. We love to see familiar faces. Oh, my goodness, Ven has just fallen over. Excuse me, I’ve got to run.” Flicking on his flashlight app, Remy went running off in his tight pants and his sturdy boots, taking the light with him.
Well shit. Okay, think about this, Lionel. You don’t have to stay. Remy knows you’re here. You’ve done your bit. No one ever said you had to stay for the entire event. Hector and Morty left the dance lessons early.
Lionel moved away as a couple of the smaller guys got closer to him.
Don’t touch me, don’t touch me, don’t anybody touch me .
His skin was literally crawling with his nerves at an all-time high.
Yes, he realized he sounded like a complete idiot.
Remy had touched him not even five minutes before.
Remy had a flashlight. It made sense in Lionel’s head.
I should have stayed with Remy. Except no, Remy had a job to do.
Lionel needed to make his escape. He started looking around.
They had walked quite a way, and under any other circumstances—such as when the damn sun was shining—Lionel would have probably enjoyed hearing about the history of some of the run-down areas of town.
He might even have had fun in daylight. The only thing on his mind now was that he wasn’t exactly sure how to get back to his car.
Or do I ? Rather than standing outside a house this time, Alexander had led them into one of the older warehouses that Lionel felt he might have driven past earlier in the day.
He thought the building he’d noticed looked as spooky as fuck in the daytime.
Alexander was busy talking about what had gone on in the cavernous room they were in.
“Back in the nineteen twenties, this was where they… blah, blah, blah…”
Lionel didn’t care. I know where I am. I know where the car is from here. I need to get out of here. That’s all I need to do. Lionel watched as the group followed Alexander farther into the building at the same time, he started edging his way out.
Nothing to see here. Ignore me and focus on the tour guide. This is just me being casually left behind. Oh, dear. How sad. Never mind…
Lionel let out a loud shriek as somebody touched his arm. “What the hell? What did you do that for?”
He was looking down at a curly haired man, who admittedly had a very gorgeous face, and in any other situation Lionel would have probably put on his sexiest smile.
But all he could think now was that he had just shrieked—a shriek worthy of any heroine tied to a train track—and everybody in the tour group was now looking at him. He was positive!
“Excuse me, I think I left something on the stove,” he said, as he dashed outside the door and started running hell-for-leather down the road and back to his car.