Chapter Seventeen
“ I can’t believe it.”
Rob shakes his head again, striding forward with a shit-eating grin on his face. “As I live and breathe.”
The deputy lowers his hands cautiously, eyes scanning the scene around him—Will in his dragon form, LJ still a hulking bear, and me, standing breathless in the middle of it all.
“You didn’t tell me you were a...shapeshifter,” the deputy says, shaking his head, eyes wide and jaw wide open in shock.
Rob closes the distance between them and clasps the deputy’s hand with a solid shake. “And you didn’t tell me you’d gone cop!”
Will and LJ, however, aren’t quite as relaxed. I hear a low growl from LJ before he abruptly shifts back, his massive bear form collapsing into his human body. Will follows suit, the red scales melting away as he transforms back into his regular self—now both of them stark naked in the middle of the archery field. Not a sight I mind, especially now that I don’t appear to be in mortal danger.
LJ swipes a hand across his face, still glowering at the deputy. “What the hell is going on?” he mutters, glancing between Rob and the man in uniform. His voice is gravelly, annoyed, like he was just cheated out of a good fight.
Will, far more nonchalant, stands there—unbothered by his lack of clothes—and stretches his arms above his head. “Yeah, Rob—mind telling us why we were just about to throw down with Nottingham’s finest and now we’re in the middle of a soap opera reunion?”
I’m just as confused, of course. My heart rate is slowing down, and now I just want to know what this is all about. The deputy—Rob’s friend, I guess?—clearly isn’t who I thought he was.
And, more intriguingly, he doesn’t seem to be someone the other guys know, either.
Before I can ask, I see Tuck jogging toward us from the house, his glasses bouncing slightly on his nose. He looks winded but relieved as he makes his way over to me, pushing his hair back with one hand, holding a notebook in the other.
“Maren, are you okay?” he asks, breathless, his eyes scanning me for any signs of harm. His concern makes my heart soften. Tuck, ever the studious protector.
“I’m fine,” I assure him, managing a smile. “Just a little, uh, shaken. But what’s going on?”
Tuck turns to Rob for answers, but Rob’s already grinning at the deputy, slapping him on the shoulder. “We’ll get into the details over dinner,” Rob says, his tone casual like we hadn’t just had a car chase and near confrontation between a dragon, bear, and law enforcement. “Crack open the good stuff, Will. Tuck, kill the fatted calf.” His grin widens as he claps the deputy on the back again. “This here’s an old friend of mine.”
WE’RE GATHERED AROUND the long oak dining table, which is covered in a feast only Tuck could have pulled together on such short notice. The smell alone is intoxicating—a slow-roasted leg of lamb, perfectly seasoned and dripping with savory juices; creamy mashed potatoes swirled with roasted garlic and butter; a platter of grilled asparagus and caramelized carrots drizzled with a balsamic reduction; and warm rolls, golden and soft, with pats of herb-infused butter slowly melting on the side.
“So, you two met in...prison?” I finally ask, raising my glass and swirling the wine like I actually know anything about wine beyond the fact that this one, courtesy of Will, flows freely—a rich, velvety red that leaves a pleasant warmth spreading through my chest with every sip.
Rob is at the head of the table, looking far too pleased with himself, while Zayn—which is Deputy Rashad’s actual name, apparently—sits across from me, as if he’s just another one of the gang. We’re all relaxed now, gathered in this room that somehow feels far removed from the chaos of earlier.
Rob chuckles, pushing his plate aside. “Not prison,” he corrects. “County jail.” He leans back in his chair, looking around the table with a grin. “I guess you could say it was... a pivotal time in both our lives.”
Zayn shakes his head, smiling. “This dude was not what I expected. I get this scarecrow-looking motherfucker for a bunkie and...”
“And what?” Rob prompts.
Zayn lifts his palms. “I mean, just saying. Thought you were some kinda, I don’t know, redneck reverse Batman. Using daddy’s money to become a supervillain or something. But then you fucked it up.”
Will sputters a snort. Tuck laughs, genuinely, and I do too. I barely know this deputy—Zayn—but anyone who can give Rob shit like that is a friend of mine.
“Aw, c’mon.” Rob rolls his eyes.
I glance at him, eyebrow raised. “Where’s the lie?”
Zayn’s eyes widen, and now it’s his turn to laugh. “Damn, she’s got you.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, okay,” Rob says with a laugh, leaning forward to pour himself more wine. “Poor little rich boy, et cetera, et cetera. We’ve been over this. Ancient history.”
“Yet it never gets old,” Will chimes in from the end of the table, raising his glass with a sly smile. He’s cleaned up after the earlier chaos, now lounging in a polo and linen trousers, scale-free and wingless.
Rob rolls his eyes, but Zayn takes over, his voice more serious now. “Nah, Rob’s right. He proved me wrong for sure.” He pauses, glancing over at Rob. “He had my back in there, even when it would’ve been easier not to.”
Now Rob looks a little self-conscious. “Just a couple of bucks in your commissary account. I got sick of eating all the Little Debbies myself.”
Zayn brushes him off, looks at the rest of us. “Couldn’t afford to call home,” he says. “Came back all hangdog, mumbling something about it to this guy, thinking he was gonna slam me for being a sad little mama’s boy, or whatever. Next time around, there’s five hundred bucks in calls on my card, and it sure as hell didn’t come from my family.” He looks back at Rob. “That’s decency, man. Plain and simple.”
The table falls quiet for a moment, everyone digesting that. I try to picture it—a teenage Rob, in county jail, befriending another scared kid who’d later end up chasing me down a country road.
LJ leans back in his chair, arms crossed, and his eyes flick to Zayn with that same hard, unblinking stare he uses when he’s about to get to the heart of something. “What were you in for?”
I cringe, feeling the tension shift again. It’s one thing to talk about jail in vague terms, but this feels like a breach of etiquette, somehow. Too personal, too loaded. I glance at Rob, hoping he’ll intervene, but he doesn’t. He just watches, curious, as if he’s waiting for Zayn’s answer too.
Zayn, though, doesn’t flinch. In fact, he chuckles and leans forward, resting his forearms on the table. “Don’t you know that’s the one thing you never ask, man?”
LJ shrugs, unbothered by the weight of the question. I, on the other hand, try to distract myself by taking another sip of wine.
“Nah, I’m just messing with you,” Zayn says, his smile fading as his tone shifts to something heavier. “Aggravated assault.”
Tuck looks up from his plate, clearly intrigued. “Assault?”
Zayn nods, his expression hard. “My stepfather.”
The silence is taut as we all take it in. Zayn, though, sighs, like it’s a story he knows too well, has come to terms with.
“Tale as old as time, right? She shacks up with a guy who’s no good, drinker, gambler, all of that, and he starts bleeding her dry for her disability checks. Lights go out, fridge goes empty, he doesn’t care. But then I start getting older, bigger. My kid brother does too. Then one month my mama saves her check for Malik, to pay for his peewee football stuff, and her man didn’t like that too much. He goes to hit her and I...” His voices catches, and he swallows. “I dunno. I just... snapped. Got him off her, but by the time the cops showed up, it looked bad. He pressed charges.”
My stomach knots. I know what a woman who needs to get away from a man looks like.
“And they believed him?” Will asks, skepticism lacing his voice. Zayn says nothing, just gives him a leveling look.
“Yeah, they believed him,” he says flatly. “Black teenager turns violent? It’s exactly what the cops wanted to hear. Said I’d attacked him unprovoked, that me and Malik were involved in gangster shit, going down a bad path, the whole nine fuckin’ yards, and my mama was too scared to say anything. It was his word against mine, and he was the one bleeding from the head, so...I was the one who ended up in cuffs.”
There’s a weight in his words that silences the room.
“Anyway,” Zayn says. “I told this guy what happened”—he glances at Rob—“and he said to fight for my case, that I wasn’t stuck.”
Rob shrugs. “You weren’t. You just needed a reminder.”
“Yeah, that and a couple of bucks.” Zayn’s lips quirk into a faint smile. “ Somehow, ” he says, with exaggerated disbelief, “we ended up with a fancy lawyer who actually knew his shit. Got my mom to come forward and tell the truth, make sure she got a restraining order. And they let me go. No charges, no record, clean as a goddamn whistle.” He dusts off his hands and laughs a little to himself. “Justice served, I guess. But see how much I trust the law anymore.” He lets out a low whistle. “Not too damn much, that’s how.”
Tuck frowns. “But it all worked out like it should have.”
“Yeah, ‘cause money got involved.” Zayn glances at Rob and shakes his head. “Not that I’m not grateful, but.”
“Hang on.” LJ cocks his head, arms folded. “You don’t trust the law,” he grunts. “And you become a cop?”
Will nods. “I’m kinda wondering the same thing myself.”
“As am I,” Rob says, turning to Zayn. “More than a little suspicious, my friend.”
“Hey, no, I get it.” Zayn waves a hand in the air. “But look. You know who out there in Sherwood’s hiring? Not too damn many folks. Especially if you look like me. My mama can’t work anymore, my brother’s off trying to get a degree. It’s a government job, all the overtime I want, pension coming to me one day, and...” He blows out a breath. “Figured being inside the system means I can make sure it doesn’t fuck over the next guy. Keep an eye on shit.” He turns to me, his warm brown eyes intent. “Which is how I hear about this missing girl.”
“Me,” I say, feigning innocence and pointing to myself. “Where’d I go?”
Zayn laughs. “Yeah, that’s the thing. Everybody in the office is talking about this kidnapped girl, Maren something, and yet I can’t for the life of me find any proof she’s actually been kidnapped, you know? But none of my business.” He shrugs. “Except then that one asshole assistant DA is throwing around a name I recognize. Robin Locksley this, Robin Locksley that. So now ...well, I gotta investigate. Because I know my guy Rob is no kidnapper.”
“Much obliged,” Rob says. I ignore him.
“Assistant DA,” I repeat, a knot in my chest. “You mean Gisbourne?”
“Yeah.” Zayn nods. “That dude thinks he’s God’s gift to law enforcement. Going to fix the system from the inside, all that shit.”
Will taps his chin. “Funny, I seem to recall you saying much the same thing just now.”
Zayn scoffs. “Nah, don’t get it twisted. I don’t give a shit about being king of the world. I just want to help guys like Rob, guys like me, like all y’all, who get screwed over by the system. And I wanna pull a paycheck to do it. That’s it. Gisbourne...that pretty boy DA wants to be on the damn throne, and if he can’t, he’ll burn everything to the ground to get it.”
The room quiets. I glance at Rob, who seems entirely unbothered, but my stomach tightens. It’s all connected, and Zayn’s sitting right in the middle of it.
“You think they’re coming for Rob?” Tuck asks, incredulous, setting down his fork. His face is flushed from both concern and the wine, his boyish eyes wide with disbelief.
Zayn nods. “Yeah. That’s why I came over looking for him the other day.” He glances at Will, wordlessly.
Will, wincing, leans over, rubbing the back of his neck. “Right... about that,” he mutters. “I might’ve been...a little harsh. Apologies.”
“Hey, no big.” Zayn waves it off like it’s nothing. “I mean, you weren’t wrong. I didn’t have a warrant. I just hoped I’d get to Rob and could figure out what the hell was going on. ‘Cause I knew my boy wasn’t involved in that kind of mess. Kidnapping some girl...”
His deep eyes drift to me, right as I’ve just taken a huge bite of lamb. I shake my head vigorously.
“No sir,” I say, after swallowing. “I’m here of my own free will.”
“And we’re all very glad you are,” Will says mildly. But maybe not mildly enough. Something flickers in Zayn’s gaze—an understanding, a recognition. My cheeks get hot, and not just from the wine.
Can he tell that we’re...that I’m...
“That’s what I needed to figure out,” Zayn says, breaking the silence. “Gisbourne’s gunning hard to make this a big deal. The guy’s obsessed with you, man. He’s convinced he can nail you to the wall.”
LJ grumbles, pushing his plate away with a scowl. “I can’t believe this shit.” His voice is low, rough, and it’s directed more at Rob than Zayn.
Rob says nothing, though. He just sits there, jaw tight, the flicker of something darker behind his eyes.
Zayn sighs, shaking his head. “Look, the sheriff and his boys? They’re lazy. You know that. As long as their pockets stay full, they won’t put in the effort. But they’ve got the DA’s office breathing down their necks now. And Gisbourne’s pulling some crafty shit behind the scenes. I don’t know why he’s so obsessed with taking you down, Rob, but—”
“I do.”
Everyone turns to look at me. I swallow hard.
“He knows,” I say shortly.
“Knows...?” Zayn asks. The rest of them don’t. Don’t have to.
“I found this book,” I blurt out, the words coming thick and fast. “In his library. Weird old drawings and stuff. Magical...texts, I don’t know. But about shifters. Clearly about shifters, even though I couldn’t read whatever language it was in. And he caught me. I don’t know if he knew that I know, but...” I suck in a breath. “If he suspects you’re shifters, then he wants to kill you.”
There’s a long, tense beat of silence.
“You’re sure?” LJ says.
“Positive.”
I feel everyone’s eyes on me, still—everyone’s but Rob. He’s staring hard at the table, his hands clenched into fists. He lets out a slow breath, his shoulders stiff with barely restrained anger.
“That bastard,” Rob mutters, his voice low, almost a growl. “And wants to marry her, too. Y’all know that? That he’s trying to steal her away?”
Zayn’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. “Wait, wait, wait. Y’all two are a thing?” he asks, eyes flicking between me and Rob. “I mean, nice going, my friend. She’s a real one.”
“Uh...” I shake my head slowly, feeling a hot flush creep up my neck. “No, it’s...it’s not like that.”
Fuck. How do I even begin to navigate this?
Zayn lifts an eyebrow. “It’s not? Don’t play with me. Y’all been giving each other the look this whole damn dinner.”
“It’s...” My cheeks burn. “Not exactly like that. It’s sort of that and...more.”
Zayn’s features draw tight with confusion, then relent. I see the moment it clicks for him, the way his eyes widen for just a second, then narrow with a slow, dawning understanding. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t have to, just glances at Will, LJ, Tuck, and then Rob.
“Okay,” he says. “Okay. So it’s like that. Huh.” He nods a few times, shrugs.
“That’s all you have to say?” Rob asks, a genuine edge of curiosity in his voice even as he sits back with his wine.
“I mean, I’m not gonna judge.” Zayn lifts his hands in mock surrender. “Let’s just say my, uh, lifestyle choices aren’t exactly a hit with folks around here either. You ever try to use Grindr in Sherwood? Shit, man.”
Rob laughs. “No kidding? Well, I’ll be damned.”
“Just how God made me,” Zayn replies, then frowns. “Also, y’all can turn into dragons and bears and whatnot and you think I’m gonna lose my mind over whatever goes down in your bedroom? C’mon.”
Now Will laughs, too, and Tuck visibly relaxes. Even LJ lets out a chuckle. For my part, I just exhale, hard, and let relief rush over me.
“But like, seriously,” Zayn says. “Y’all keep a schedule, or—”
“Okay, okay,” Rob says, waving his hands. “Enough. Let’s try and focus here a little. You came to tell us something. So what?”
All the momentary ease disappears as Zayn’s expression hardens.
“Yeah,” he says, leaning forward, his voice low and serious now. “Listen. You guys need to watch your backs. They’re watching you. The house, the cars, your bank accounts—”
Will, who had been casually swirling the wine in his glass, freezes. “Offshore too?”
Zayn nods. “Yeah. They’re coming at you from every angle, man.”
Tuck’s fork clatters against his plate. “How, though? I’m pretty damn careful with our money. You’d need to be some kind of forensic accountant to—”
I bite my lip, a memory surfacing from earlier, back in Guy’s garden, at his fundraiser. “Gisbourne’s good with that stuff,” I say. “He mentioned something about it back when I was stuck with him. I didn’t think much of it, but...”
“Yeah,” Zayn nods, confirming. “I don’t pretend to understand it. All I know is Gisbourne’s got the sheriff by the balls, and he’s not going to stop until he finds something that sticks. I’d cut that shit out if I were you.”
Rob clenches a fist. “It’s not just that shit, man. It’s how we help people.” He glares at Zayn. “Those accounts keep people in their goddamn houses.”
Zayn shrugs, clearly unfazed. “I don’t know what to tell you, Rob. Find an alternate income stream.” His mouth quirks into a grin. “Or, you know, get a job. Ha ha ha.”
The joke falls flat, especially with Rob. He glowers, his sharp eyes piercing through Zayn. “There’s nothing else you can do? No other way to help?”
Zayn shakes his head. “Look, I wish I could, but I’m already risking my neck being here. I’m a rookie cop paid by the hour. You’re the one with magic powers.” He wiggles his fingers in the air, and I smile in spite of everything.
“You’re right.” Rob sucks his teeth. “Nah, man, I appreciate you being here. It’s good to see you.”
Will rubs his temples. “Maybe we can save the plotting and planning for tomorrow? Because pardon my French, but today’s been a fucking nightmare.”
“Hear, hear,” LJ says.
“Thanks, Zayn,” Tuck puts in. “We do appreciate your help.”
“Anytime,” Zayn says. “And seriously, if there’s something I can do, I will. Rescue a kitten from a tree, get out of a parking ticket—”
“Wait.” The idea hits me out of nowhere, and I interrupt before Zayn can finish. “Can you check on something else for us? A stolen Mustang, by any chance?”
Zayn’s eyebrows lift, intrigued. His lips curl into a slow grin. “I can try.”