Chapter 7 La Fourchette #3
Manders grabbed his crotch, but carried on backing away.
“Better listen to your boyfriend, nonce boy. Wouldn’t want anything to happen to that shitty little dump.
” He inclined his head towards La Fourchette and grinned.
“Heard the repairs were quite expensive.” He burped again, almost tripping over his own feet.
“Fuck you, Manders!” Taylor spat. “How are you gonna look after William in that state? What the fuck was he doing up in Dingly Heath anyway?”
Johnny gave Taylor a confused look. “When did you—”
Manders dropped his chin and glared at Taylor. “None of your fucking business, pig. Do you think I give a shit that you’re cops?”
“You should,” Johnny said, stepping in front of Taylor. “You really fucking should.”
Manders let out a bark of laughter. “Come on then, dipshit. If you think you’re a hard man. Let’s go a round and see who should be running the place.” He pointed towards the restaurant again with a disdainful scowl.
Johnny threw up his hands. “Christ alive, Adey. Let it go. Your old man died seven years ago. Not our fault you pissed away your inheritance.”
“Fuck you. That place is mine by rights.”
“The deeds say otherwise.”
A few nosy bastards were beginning to filter onto the street, gasping as Manders took another long swig of vodka and threw the bottle towards them.
It smashed at their feet, sending shards of glass bouncing down the street.
“I don’t give a shit what the deeds say, your fucking family is not welcome here. Fucking foreigners.”
“That’s it,” Taylor said, puffing out his chest. “Time to go, pal.”
He wrenched free of Johnny’s grip, hands coming up into fists in front of him. Taylor closed the distance between him and Manders so fast it made all that bravado drop from the other alpha’s face in an instant.
Johnny’s wolf flared, and he bared his fangs as Taylor threw back a fist. He managed to catch it before it pistoned forward, and he dragged Taylor around by his forearm. It was enough time for Manders to stumble back, his eyes wide as though surprised that Taylor had actually gone for him.
“Y-you, fucking—” Manders jeered, but Taylor cut him off by throwing his head forward and almost landing the most spectacular headbutt were it not for Johnny grabbing his hair so hard he almost ripped it out.
Johnny snarled, dragging Taylor into a narrow alley at the side of the restaurant, both of them nearly going arse over tit as they tripped through the rubbish bins.
It didn’t cool any of the rage in Taylor, and Johnny had to dig his nails into the back of his neck just to gain back some level of control.
“Let me go,” Taylor growled, eyes the bright amber of his wolf. He fought against Johnny’s grip, twisting and pushing him away.
“Not a chance,” Johnny said, shoving him against the wall. “Not a fucking chance.”
Taylor grunted, his fangs popping out all the way as his claws started to push up from his nail beds.
“I will not… let him… fucking talk to you… like that, JP.” Taylor’s words came out slurred as his fangs crowded his mouth. He started forwards again, this time his chest slamming Johnny back against one of the industrial sized recycling bins. It rattled away, sending both of them off balance again.
“He’s a piece of shit on our shoes and nothing more,” Johnny spat. “You think he’s worth the job? What happened to ‘violence should be met with kindness,’ huh?”
“Maybe violence is the only thing he understands,” Taylor said as the brown-red fur of his wolf started to pepper his skin.
“Fucking hell,” Johnny said, gritting his teeth as he shoved Taylor against the wall with all the strength he possessed.
Taylor kicked and flailed, grabbing at the air behind Johnny’s back. Johnny’s wolf was coming forward too, and he could feel his own claws snagging in Taylor’s T-shirt.
They were breathing hard, the sound almost lewd as it bounced around the dark, narrow alleyway.
They tussled and nipped and pinched and poked one another, Taylor pulling Johnny’s hair and Johnny pulling back.
Johnny ripped at the neckline of Taylor’s T-shirt, so Taylor did the same to him.
It might have been funny when they were pups, but now they were two fully grown alphas and the nips were no longer nips, but full-on bites that broke skin.
Taylor’s fingers caught in the bracelets on Johnny’s wrist, snapping them and sending the beads bouncing down the alley. Johnny growled, biting Taylor’s shoulder, so Taylor twisted forward and bit his bicep in return.
There was blood in the air, fire in their veins, and before Johnny knew what was happening Taylor ripped his mouth free from his arm and gnashed at the scent gland just beneath his ear.
Johnny cried out, legs buckling with the white-hot agony as Taylor’s claws drove deep into his arms. But, still, Johnny didn’t pull back. Instead, he bit his own tongue, the inside of his cheeks, fuck, he’d have chewed his own gums up just to stop himself from biting Taylor back.
If it was only Taylor biting him, the mating bond wouldn’t take because both alphas had to bite at the same time in order for it to stick.
Taylor couldn’t control himself, but Johnny could, so he had to be strong enough for the both of them.
He let Taylor slump over him, his jaws holding Johnny in place as his throat vibrated.
It was a deep, resonant sound that sent a shuddering pulse to Johnny’s balls.
He flinched from the feeling, his abs tightening as his hips thrust forwards into Taylor’s.
It was an involuntary reaction, and before he could get a grip on his body, his dick bucked and he realised he was coming in his own boxers.
Johnny held very, very still, only able to pant and groan as he pressed his forehead against Taylor’s shoulder. This was not happening. This was not fucking happening. But Taylor’s teeth were still in his neck and his balls were still pumping.
Johnny squeezed his eyes shut, willing his pheromones to calm down. Suppress. Suppress. Suppress. He was used to suppressing them—he’d been doing it for over a decade.
Sure, things had gotten heated before, but that was when they were teenagers trying to figure out their tangle of hormones and confusing, seemingly random bursts of aggression.
Sometimes they were mean just for the sake of it, sometimes they hit each other, bit each other, but that was a part of learning to be an alpha.
The biting was just an outlet for the aggression, and fucking hell, Taylor was a biter. His snapped fang was evidence of that after his own father had punched him in the mouth when he bit his leg and wouldn’t let go.
A tiny whine escaped Taylor’s throat, and Johnny realised they’d both been standing there for the best part of a minute. He blinked, vision blurred, and body heavy.
Eventually, Taylor dislodged his mouth and pressed his damp forehead to Johnny’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, gripping both of Johnny’s forearms. “I’m so fucking sorry. I couldn’t—I didn’t—”
“I know,” Johnny breathed. “I know, Tay.”
“But, your scent—you smell so fucking—”
Johnny clenched his teeth and pushed Taylor away. “Y-yeah, sorry… I-I-I—ah fuck. Just… don’t worry about it, okay? Are you going to tell me what that was about?” Johnny said, trying to direct Taylor’s attention away from his scent.
Taylor huffed, his breath hot and damp. “I-I found William up in the woods when we were looking for the wandering wolves. He was on his own. I tried to get hold of him but he ran away.”
Johnny sighed, bracing a hand on Taylor’s shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
There was a panicked look in Taylor’s eyes. “I-I don’t know. I just… wanted to deal with it myself.”
Johnny stepped forwards, gripping Taylor’s arms. “Please tell me you called social services and didn’t just go storming round there?”
Taylor let out a bitter laugh. “Of course I called them, and you know what they said?”
“They’ll add it to the list?”
“Yep.”
Johnny grimaced, the mess in his pants turning cool and uncomfortable. “Is that where you went after dropping me off?”
Sighing, Taylor leant forwards to rub his mouth against Johnny’s torn-up T-shirt. “I didn’t do anything. William was in the front garden playing so I just left it.”
“And the scrape on your cheek?”
“William.”
“Fuck’s sake, Tay. Why didn’t you call for me?”
Taylor sighed, pushing Johnny back. “You don’t think that was my first thought? Get JP. JP will know what to do. It’s always my first fucking thought, man. I can’t… I can’t keep doing that.”
Johnny swallowed, straightened and looked Taylor dead in the eyes. “Why not?” he said, stomach twisting as though he were about to receive some very, very bad news.
Taylor’s brows pulled together as he backed away.
“Because this is what it’s always like, isn’t it?
I fuck up, you come to the rescue. I forget to get up for work, you drag me out of bed.
I almost punch a guy, you hold me back. It’s just—” He scrubbed at the back of his hair, eyes flicking back and forth across Johnny’s bitten neck.
“It’s me. It’s always me fucking up, and it shouldn’t—” He shook his head and turned away.
“I can’t… I shouldn’t… You know what I’m trying to say, don’t you? ”
Johnny’s throat clenched. “N-not really,” he said, voice cracking.
He wanted to reach for him again, but when he tried Taylor jerked away.
“I’m saying that whatever I do comes back on you and the pack. I’m dragging you down, JP.”
“No. You’re not.”
“Yes. I am.”
Taylor let out a long breath and began walking away.
“Tay,” Johnny called, darting into the street after him.
He was about to drag him back when Maman and the rest of the pack stepped out of the restaurant and onto the street.
They both stopped abruptly when Papa appeared with Marty in his arms, head lolling against his shoulder.
Johnny yanked the collar of his shirt up in an attempt to hide the bite mark.
Maman locked the doors and pulled down the shutter. She gasped, eyes trailing over their ripped clothes. “Mon Dieu!” she gasped. “Please tell me you did that to each other and not Aden Manders.”
Taylor looked as though he was about to turn away, but Johnny clapped a hand across his back and pushed him forward.
“Just… er, letting off some steam after a long day,” Johnny replied, glancing at Clementine and Gabriella as they planted their feet and crossed their arms.
“Hope you kicked his butt,” said Clementine.
Gabriella nodded enthusiastically. “I’ll be disappointed if he still has teeth when I next see him.”
“Girls!” Maman hissed, running her hand over Marty’s cheeks and covering his ears. “Do not say such things. I taught you to have kindness in your hearts.”
Clementine shrugged, “You also taught me not to lie, Mama.”
The two of them bickered back and forth, but all Johnny could do was watch as the shutters came down on Taylor’s emotions. “Let’s go,” he whispered, tugging at the back of Taylor’s shirt.
“I’m not going home,” Taylor replied in a quiet voice. “I’ll go somewhere—”
“The fuck you will,” Johnny growled, grabbing his wrist. “You’re coming home with me. You’re going to take a shower and then we’re going to watch Tropic Thunder five times in a row.”
Taylor laughed, but there was no humour in it. “I think… I think I’m gonna spend the night in the woods. My wolf is all over the fucking shop and it’s messing with my head.”
“I’ll come with—”
“No,” Taylor said, holding up a hand. “No, JP. I’m going on my own. I’ll be back before the sun’s up.”