Isaac knew what Arlo wanted, what his former pack wanted. They would be regretting having let him go, having convinced themselves that he was carrying out these actions despite the distance between the two cities. Then again, Pensacola really wasn’t that far away from Daphne. Less than an hour if one used the northern interstate, and only an hour and 20 minutes if a person chose to use the smaller highways to the west. A dedicated arsonist could easily travel from one city to the next and back in a single night, and would choose to do so if he wished to keep his profile low at home.
This whole situation made a terrible sort of sense.
Just, it was all wrong.
Destiny looked at Isaac as he thought, then seemed to realize no answer would be forthcoming without a bit of prompting. “Isaac, what does Arlo want?”
“Probably to kill me,” Isaac said. It wasn’t a joke. He honestly meant it. He would stand trial before an unofficial jury of wolves, and they would declare him guilty. Banishment hadn’t been enough to solve their problems last time, so they would take it a step further and banish him from life.
The leap in logic would have seemed cruel to someone on the outside, but Isaac was a biker and a shifter. He stood on the outside looking in, occupying that position for his entire life. Humans got so caught up in their laws and labels and regulations that they often really fucked up their process of justice.
Having been formerly denied the justice they thought they deserved, Isaac’s former pack would take this into their own hands. They would kill him to protect their own, to keep their members and their home safe.
And when the fires continued, they would realize they had been wrong all along. Of course, by then, it would be too late.
“What if we refuse to let you go?” Destiny suggested.
Isaac let out a laugh, startled. Destiny just waited. “You can’t be serious, can you?”
“Why not?”
Not answering seemed a better decision than answering.
Destiny shook his head as if clearing fog from his thoughts, then gestured around the office in which the three of them—four, if one counted the sleeping Knox—were standing. However, the motion of his arms seemed to imply a scale larger than physical boundary. “Isaac, you’re part of us. Lethal Freedom, Shadow Claws, who cares? We’re one now, all of us. We’re here for you. We’ll protect you. The ones who hurt you in the past will never have that chance again.”
Burning tingles formed inside Isaac’s sinuses, that awful sensation he always had on those few occasions before he started crying. He’d had the love of his pack back in Daphne, so this sense of kindness and comfort coming his way wasn’t exactly a new feeling to him. Even when he had been in Lethal Freedom, he had been supported by the other members of the motorcycle gang; they might not have liked him very much, but they absolutely despised Shadow Claws and would always take care of their own over their enemies.
This right here was something else entirely. This wasn’t love just for the sake of love, the sort of alliance forced upon a child with no control over his own family members, and neither was it love for a lack of anything better.
Destiny wasn’t saying these things because he had to or because he felt obligated. He was treating Isaac as his own, because he wanted to.
For a moment, but only a moment, Isaac knew he was going to say yes. He was going to approach Destiny and embrace him, lean on him, let this more experienced alpha guide him through his troubles. He was going to stay in the trailer park—or perhaps move into the garage, if that was what Destiny wanted—and he would allow himself to be protected. Maybe this wouldn’t be the best life, though it would at least be a life.
He opened his mouth to accept, and instead he said, “What if I want to go?”
Both Destiny and Cain looked at him as if he’d gone crazy, their expressions composed mostly of matching disbelief.
“You can’t be serious,” Destiny said.
At the same time, Cain protested, “You can’t possibly want to be executed.”
The two alphas looked at each other, wry amusement sparking between them despite the seriousness of the situation. Watching them, Isaac had to smile. They were so much alike, and yet so different in their own ways. No wonder they were such a good team.
“I’m going,” Isaac said. “I’ve always known this was going to happen. It’s about time.”
Destiny growled, “I forbid this. It’s suicide to agree to this. Don’t push me on this. I’ve dealt with suicidal wolves before, I know the numbers to call, and the procedures to follow. You won’t thank me for it, and I don’t really care. You are not going to submit yourself to this and that’s final.”
But you know, don’t you? You can’t hold me. You can’t force me to stay. You might try, but you can’t. You know it. And you’re afraid.
Maybe afraid wasn’t the right word to describe the shadows lingering in Destiny’s gaze. Uncertain was better.
And glad was best, because even good feelings can be dark when they aren’t wanted.
Destiny would be glad to be rid of the burden of Isaac, whether he wanted to admit it or not. He had so many things on his plate already that certainly he would be happy at having one less.
Isaac didn’t say any of this out loud. Instead, he said, “Okay.” It wasn’t an answer, wasn’t even really an acknowledgment, so much as it was a placeholder of a sentiment.
The look Destiny sent his way said quite loud and clear that he didn’t believe Isaac was going to go along for a moment. “Good. In that case, I want you to live here now. Unless you have some sort of attachment to your current home?”
Thinking of his crummy trailer in that terrible neighborhood, Isaac shook his head. Some of his tension evaporated at being able to tell the truth about something during this conversation.
“Good. You’ll be here in the garage. Do you have a job? I can’t recall.” Destiny moved further away from his perch as he spoke, grabbing at a drawer on one of the filing cabinets and yanking it open. He rummaged through the folders.
“No. I don’t.”
He had been using government assistance to keep himself afloat. Well, that and what he’d managed to save up from his position at the firm. Combined, those two sources of money were enough to keep him comfortable at the trailer park for as long as he could have wanted.
His joblessness wasn’t for lack of trying, though. No one wanted to hire him because of his long years of experience at a single company. Their fear was that he would have difficulty settling in at a new firm, with a group of people who didn’t know him from the next random guy.
And what his potential employers hadn’t said aloud was that they were afraid of him, afraid of the repercussions of hiring him. Businessmen are some of the most superstitious creatures on the planet, in that regard. If Isaac’s last place of employment burned down, who was to say the same thing wouldn’t happen again?
They might not have said that out loud, but he knew. He could see it on the faces of the men and women who rejected him, a guilty sort of relief.
After several months of fruitless attempts, he pretty much gave up.
However, Destiny didn’t seem to be bothered by this news. He just nodded, then plucked several papers out of the filing cabinet. “You’ll just have to earn your keep by pitching in. Chores. Cooking. Errands. Nothing difficult. Here, take these.”
Isaac accepted the papers offered to him, noticing how they were paperclipped together rather than stapled. He remembered from his training that paper clips were more professional than staples, and the ghost of the junior manager that he had once been approved of this. “What is this?”
“An application,” Destiny explained, “to live here. I have this place set up as an actual living facility. It’s a little weird. I had to pull some strings, wiggle around a few laws and regulations, but it’s nothing that doesn’t already get taken advantage of. Some loopholes. Gaps in the system. The application is just a formality, so I can have a record of this for taxes
and everything. As far as I’m concerned, you already live here.”
After scanning the papers for another few moments, Isaac confirmed for himself everything Destiny just said. “You really thought all this through.”
“Technically, I had a bunch of lawyers and accountants do the thinking for me. I just made sure they actually did it.” Destiny nodded at the papers. “Fill that out as soon as you can. The sooner you can live here, the better. I want to make sure that Arlo doesn’t have a chance to bother you ever again.”
Isaac made a conscious decision to relax his grip on the application. He was growing tense again, aware that everything was spiraling out of his control very quickly. “What about my trailer? I’ve got a lease and everything to think about. I can’t just leave.”
“Tell your landlord something came up and you’re having to end the lease early.” Destiny spoke as if this was the simplest thing in the world to do. “If he has any issues with that, send him to me. I’m sure I’ll be able to convince him to see reason.”
“Okay,” Isaac sighed. “Sure. Destiny, I appreciate all of this. So, so much. You’re doing way too much for me.”
Destiny reached out, placed a comforting hand on Isaac’s shoulder. His grip was steady, the overall experience being rather like Isaac was being soothed by a tree. He felt as if he could lean against Destiny and the alpha might simply wrap around him, encompassing him, taking all of him, as a tree is wont to do when growing near an obstacle.
“I’m doing exactly as much as I should,” Destiny said. “Why don’t you go and get that filled out? Help yourself to a snack, something to drink. You’re family now, after all. What’s ours is yours.”
“I think I’ll do that,” Isaac replied, while intending to do nothing of the sort. He stood up, holding the paper securely in his fist. He flashed a brief smile at Cain while walking over to the office door, unable to hold the expression for long without feeling like a fraud.
Neither wolf followed him outside the office, something for which he was glad.
Rolling the papers up into a tube, Isaac stuck them in his pocket and then went in search of pretty much any other wolf he could find.
As luck would have it, the first wolf he encountered was Ulysses. He didn’t much like Ulysses from the very start, and especially not after hearing him trash talk Moody. However, Ulysses seemed to like him quite a bit. He had no idea why.
Ulysses strode over as soon as he saw Isaac, holding out one hand for a fist bump. Isaac gave it to him, feeling absurd and outdated.
“Hey, man,” Ulysses said. “Haven’t seen you around since you went out on that ride with that loser. Guess you had to recuperate, huh?”
Isaac wondered briefly if Ulysses would be singing a different tune if he knew he had a past with Moody. No one knew about that, didn’t even seem to have the slightest inkling about it. Their relationship, if it could be called such, lasted for such a brief period of time. There wasn’t enough time for it to have circulated through the rumor mill. And Moody just wasn’t the kind of person who would go around letting everyone know what he was up to.
Maybe about a week ago, Isaac would have tolerated this conversation, but he had no patience for it right now. “Actually, Lee,” he said, trying not to growl, “I was looking for him. Where would I find him?”
“Uh.” Ulysses actually looked a little taken aback. Maybe he wasn’t as dense as he seemed. “His room is up on the second floor. First door in the third hallway. Can’t miss it. I don’t know if he’s there or not, though.” He paused, then pushed his luck. “Why?”
“I just need to talk to him. Thanks.” Isaac turned in the direction of where he knew the staircase to be and strode off towards it, hoping Ulysses would get the message.
From behind him came a faint, confused mumble. “Yeah, sure. You do you. No problem.”
Mounting the stairs, Isaac took them two at a time. He went around the outside of the main area of the second floor, counting hallways. One and then two, and finally a third hall so thin and short it was little more than an alcove.
The first door was shut.
Heading over to it, Isaac raised his fist. He hesitated, abruptly aware of his pounding heart, and then he shoved his trepidation aside and knocked.
He waited. Nothing happened.
Maybe he should call out?
Lifting his hand again, he went to knock a second time and that was when the door opened. His knuckles slid through empty air where a moment before there had been a solid surface.
A pair of mistrustful cinnamon eyes peered out at him from the darkened interior of what seemed to be a very tiny room, perhaps a storage closet for employees only once upon a time. Then, those beautifully spicy eyes widened. Moody pushed the door open a little further. “Isaac? What are you doing here?”
His ears pricked to listen for footsteps, Isaac spoke low and urgently. “I need to talk to you. Let me in?”
Moody hesitated for an instant. Isaac’s heart thudded hard against his rib cage. Then, shrugging, the omega stepped back deeper into the room while pulling his door completely open. “Sure. Come on. Seems serious, I guess.”
Hoping like hell he hadn’t been seen, Isaac stepped inside Moody’s room. He didn’t look around, though he was really interested in knowing what sort of things Moody kept in the place where he lived. Instead, he just pushed the door shut behind himself and turned to face his companion.
“I need to leave the city in secret. I need your help.”
“Excuse me?” Moody said, staring at him. He folded his arms across his chest. “Maybe I didn’t hear you right. You need to leave the city?”
“Right.”
“Then, why don’t you just go?”
“I think your pack leader plans to hold me prisoner for my own good.”
“Your pack leader now, too,” Moody said. “This doesn’t seem like it’s my business, like most things involving you.”
“What happened to being there for me?”
I probably shouldn’t have said that.
Isaac regretted the question as soon as he gave voice to it. He shouldn’t be taking advantage of anyone, even if they had offered him help themselves.
Frowning at him, Moody opened his mouth to reply. Isaac braced himself for a scathing retort. “I guess I did say that, didn’t I? I’m just feeling ornery, sorry. Let’s start over.”
Isaac held out his hand. “Hi. My name is Isaac. What’s yours?”
A quick smile flickered across Moody’s lips, drawing Isaac’s eyes to him. He swatted the outstretched hand away. “You idiot. What do you want? Why are you trying to leave the city?”
“I’m going to go back to Daphne with Arlo. Destiny is pretty much trying to force me to live here, to try and protect me. And I appreciate that, but I need to go back. I know I do. And you said you would help me.”
Whether he was making the right decision or not, he was going through with this. Enough feeling sorry for himself. It was time to take action, clear his name once and for all.
“So, what am I supposed to do? Cause a diversion so you can sneak out the back door?” Moody ran one hand through his hair, looking interested and also vaguely disappointed.
“Only if you go out the door with me.”
Moody blinked. He took a step back. “What?”
Isaac crossed the new gap between them, lowering his head so their foreheads almost touched. “Look,” he said, whispering the word. “I fucked up in the past. Let me at least make some of it right. Come with me to Daphne. I’m not going to leave you behind again…unless that’s what you want.”
Moody’s eyelashes flickered, and then he stepped away again. He kept his arms wrapped around himself, creating a division between the two of them. “Isaac, I…This isn’t going to solve anything. Everything that happened, what you did…this isn’t going to fix any of that.”
“I know.” He didn’t move forward again, having gotten the message his advance wasn’t wanted right now. “But I’m gi
ving you the choice. No matter what’s waiting for me there, I’m going to Daphne. And I’m asking you to help me get there. And I’m telling you that you can come with me if you want.”
“Why can’t you just stay here?” Moody looked uncertain now, as if he was questioning himself instead of Isaac. “Why not take Destiny up on his offer?”
“I’m tired of waiting.” The huge weights he had been feeling for so long, dragging at him, slowing him down, wearing him out, were coming loose. Imminent stagnation was no longer so near. He could shake loose of those chains if only he kept going forward with this new momentum. “I’m tired of going nowhere. Even if it means going back, I’ll do that, I guess.”
Moody closed his eyes, a long and slow blink. When he opened them again, his expression had changed into something focused and fierce. It was the look of a wolf who has prey in his sights and is about to give pursuit. “Okay. I’ll come with you. What do you need me to do?”
7
In the history of great escapes, Isaac’s break from the garage was nothing spectacular. Really, it was less of an escape and more of a stroll, which he took with Moody down the fire exit staircase from the second floor to the side of the building. From there, they walked together around to the front parking lot, grabbed their bikes, and rode off.
No one stopped them, though one person did happen to see them.
Cain was in the parking lot, talking with Ralphie. They held their son between them, their foreheads pressed together as they gazed into each other’s eyes with the kind of love that made an outsider ache to see.
Cain looked away for only a moment, a flicker for a fraction of a second that held no real significance at all. Isaac froze where he was as those piercing eyes settled on him where he stood, creeping through the aisles between rows of parking spaces. Though dusk was deep in the process of becoming true night, the parking lot was well-lit and a wolf would have had no problem seeing an ant in such conditions.
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