Chapter 16
We’ve Got Trouble
Ilay next to Austin, my eyes wide while I brushed the tips of my fingers through his thick mane before slipping over a divot at the base of his skull. Being a werewolf meant being able to heal from just about any injury, but this reminder of a mangled childhood stood defiant.
God’s existence was always such a dubious claim.
My grandparents on both sides held fast to their religions.
One side was Orthodox Jew and the other was Catholic, and I often wondered how such staunchly religious people could produce children that would grow up to be terrible adults.
As bad as my childhood was, the blinders of privilege disappear quickly when you see just how bad it could have been.
Why am I still here?
I couldn’t let go of the terror in his voice. Time had frozen for him all those years ago. He had to grow up in an instant, depending on only himself for strength. And while a single pillar could support a simple structure, it can’t hold up the weight of a skyscraper.
After today, I wasn’t going to let him hide in that garage alone anymore.
The Next Morning
The other side of the bed was empty when I woke up. At first, I thought Austin had retreated to his usual sanctuary, but when I wandered the hall, I noticed the bathroom door was closed.
He was actually showering.
Roscoe would sometimes go a week or more without bathing, and Austin hadn’t so much as looked at a bathtub since I’d met him. While they didn’t smell awful, their fur would attract twigs and dirt from outside, which would build up and get on the furniture.
The old floorboards groaned as I padded through the house to make breakfast, but I stopped when a sheet of paper on the dining room table caught my attention.
The word microwave had been written in thick black marker, and under that were the words don’t touch the stove scribbled with a ballpoint pen.
The house had a residual scent of burned bacon, and in the kitchen, a wrapped plate full of scrambled eggs and pancakes greeted me.
I smiled at the unusually thoughtful gesture.
To think I had a junk food loving werewolf to thank for this breakthrough.
I’d need to remember to buy more white cheddar popcorn in the future.
After heating the meal, I drenched the pancakes in syrup and sat at the table. The eggs were slightly overdone, and the pancakes were broken, but it was a solid five stars compared to anything I could do. I usually just ate a bowl of marshmallow cereal if Roscoe wasn’t around.
Christ, Roscoe was right. I did eat like a child.
The bathroom door opened and clawed footsteps trudged through the hall until a hilariously fluffy Austin appeared in the entryway.
“Holy shit,” I said, nearly choking on my breakfast. “What happened?”
He grunted but said nothing else as he made his way into the kitchen.
“Want me to brush you?”
He poked his head out from around the corner and raised a brow.
“I’ll get the deshedder I use for Roscoe—whenever he lets me,” I continued, making my voice sound enticing.
“You brush Roscoe?”
“Well, yeah. Doesn’t Adam brush you?”
He huffed sharply through his nose and disappeared around the corner again. “No.”
“Have you ever asked him to?”
“Did Roscoe ask you?” he asked, while shuffling around the refrigerator.
I let out a laugh and thought back to those first weeks of trying to improve Roscoe’s hygiene. “No, I kind of forced it on him.”
“I’ll pass.”
“Your fur is going to get knotted like that. Oh, and for future reference, this won’t happen if you keep the blow-dryer on low.”
Austin didn’t reply.
“C’mon, let me brush you,” I said, standing from the table. Only half my plate was gone, but I was too stuffed to keep eating. I stepped into the kitchen and pulled the box of cellophane from the drawer. “I mean, unless you want to go out in public looking like a stuffed animal.”
“I’ll brush myself.” His eyes lowered again. The first time he’d given me that look, I hadn’t thought much of it. This time, it was harder to ignore.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he muttered, pouring himself a glass of water. Werewolves were kind of funny when they drank anything out of a glass. They would do this half-lapping, half-sipping thing because their lips were too thin and their teeth were too long to not dribble water all over the place.
“I’m getting the brush.” I wrapped the plate in plastic wrap before placing it in the fridge for later.
“I don’t want you to brush me!”
With the incident from yesterday fresh in my mind, I winced and shook my head. “Fine. I’ll leave you alone.”
“God damn it, can’t you take a hint?”
“I told you I’d leave you alone, damn.”
“That’s not—” He let out a frustrated sigh. “Never mind.”
“Austin, tell me what you want. If you’re my friend, then just tell me what’s bothering you, and I’ll try to fix it.”
“It’s not you,” Austin said, sauntering back into the living room with me following. He grabbed the deshedder that was lying on one of the end tables before plopping down face-first onto the couch. “Fine. Brush me.”
“Are you sure?”
He groaned in response. This wasn’t his usual moodiness; instead, this took on an almost child-like petulance. I supposed it was better than him nearly choking me to death, so I grabbed the brush and set to work on fluffy, damaged fur.
“Jeez. I need to bring out the big guns.”
Austin’s ears lowered. “Big guns?”
“I live in a house with two werewolves. I like to be prepared for these types of emergencies. Plus, spray conditioner is the only way I can get Roscoe to not smell like a garbage can.”
Austin looked pretty handsome in his newer fatigues that didn’t have holes in them, and I had done a bang-up job on taming that mess he made with his mane. In the short time I’d known him, he’d never changed those pants. Even when he shifted into his half-turn form, he didn’t remove them.
After Austin assured me he was okay, I allowed him time in his garage alone, but I gave him a hard limit.
He could only stay there for an hour, then he had to come back out and sit with me.
When I laid down the rules, he tucked his tail between his legs and nodded without protest. He seemed to respond positively to military-like discipline, and I kind of got a kick out of giving him commands.
My phone rang, the caller ID displaying Brat along with a picture of a crying baby. It had been a while since I’d received a call from Adam, and I’d forgotten about the Carmina Burana ringtone I’d set for him.
“What’s up?” I answered.
“Roscoe and I are halfway there. We’re on a bus.” He growled at that last part.
“Everything okay?”
“I hate Roscoe. Why did you let me go with him?”
I could barely stifle a laugh. Though I hadn’t known for sure when it would happen, I’d known it would eventually. Being stuck in a car for twelve hours with the world’s most annoying werewolf took patience and finesse not a lot of people had. Hell, I barely had it.
“Oh no,” I said, my tone purposely feigning concern. “What happened?”
“I can hear you smiling, you prick.”
“Where’s Roscoe right now?”
“Laying against the window, snoring. God, he’s got morning wood and everyone’s looking at him.”
“Isn’t he just the cutest?” I asked, still trying to restrain a laugh. “How was Darryl?”
“Amazing as ever.” His tone had a bitter bite to it again. “At least he gave me a swimming lesson before I left. That’ll tide me over until I either turn or go on a horny, bloodthirsty rampage.”
“I take it sex with Roscoe isn’t doing it for you anymore?”
“He hasn’t done anything to me the entire time I’ve been with him! I was expecting him to pull over whenever I was in the mood, but he just kept singing boomer songs and torturing me with puns and awful dad jokes.”
He didn’t do it. I had expected Roscoe to jump at the chance of screwing Adam up and down the interstate, but he’d actually taken what I said to heart. Roscoe was going to get the best hummer I could manage when he got home.
“Sorry you had to go through that.”
“Well, sorry you had to deal with Austin’s shit. So I guess we’re even.”
“Not quite.” I grinned again. “Austin and I have been having a great time. He actually made me breakfast this morning because I destroyed Roscoe’s pan and nearly caught the house on fire.”
Another low growl came through the speaker. “What do you mean he made you breakfast?”
“Pancakes and eggs. It was more out of pity than anything.” I had to dial that back a bit.
The goal was to annoy him, not drive a bigger wedge between him and Austin—and me.
Hopefully, when Adam got back, they would sit down and talk things out with one another.
I’d already laid the groundwork; all Adam had to do was not be insufferable for once.
“Ha!” There was that shitty tone I’d missed. “At least he didn’t let you starve. Have you guys been fighting?”
“No, he’s been in the garage, mostly. Probably missing you.”
“Did he actually say he missed me?”
“Of course he did. He’s been a wreck without you.”
The garage door opened, and Austin walked into the living room. “Cody, hour’s done. Wanna go for a walk?”
“What was that?” Adam asked. “Was that Austin?”
“Yeah. You want to talk to him?”
There was a moment of tense silence.
“Who’s on the phone?” Austin asked.
“It’s Adam,” I said, holding the cell phone out.
His shoulders slumped a bit before grabbing it away from me.
“Hey,” he said, his tone returning to its usual grouchiness. That wasn’t at all what I’d hoped for.
Adam’s voice came through the speaker but was muffled enough that I couldn’t understand.
“Sounds boring, but funny.” He stood there, examining his claws, nodding and grunting one-word responses before finally cutting Adam off. “Listen, I’m gonna go for a walk with Cody. I’ll see you when you get home.” He disconnected the call and handed the phone back to me.
“Dude! Did you just hang up on him?”
“No. I told him what I was going to do and ended the call.”
“Yeah, that’s called hanging up on someone.”