Fagin's Folly

by Lisa Oliver

  He can’t be that drunk, surely? Cooper knew alcohol affected the human body, but it never touched the animal spirit. My gods, has he been drugged? Drugs metabolized too quickly in a shifter body to do any permanent harm, but in the short term certain sedatives and anesthetics could knock a shifter out.

  Standing, Cooper couldn’t see much more than he could when he was sitting down. Gritting his teeth, he slipped out of the booth, snagging his pants on a vinyl crack, pushing and ducking under beefy arms on his way to the bar. The bartender looked as though he posed for wanted posters every day of the week.

  “Excuse me.” Cooper tried to get the man’s attention, but the noise was too loud or maybe he was being purposefully ignored because a genuine biker didn’t have creases in his pants and a leather jacket so shiny it squeaked. “Excuse me!”

  Grunting as someone backed into him and beer splashed over his jacket, Cooper ignored the slight and dug into his pocket for his wallet. Fagin, you’d better be worth this, he thought as he pulled out a fifty. Holding it securely, he thumped it on the bar.

  “Whaddya want?” Of course, that’s what got the bartender’s attention.

  “Fagin Mars, he was here ten minutes ago with a brunette. He’s my ride. Do you know where he’s gone?” Cooper held up the money but didn’t let go.

  The bartender shrugged. “Met some friends he knew; they came with the stacked brunette he hooked up with. Last I heard, they were heading off for a run someplace out of town. Shall I call you a cab?”

  Cooper heart stopped, and he released the hold on the fifty. “No,” he managed to say, “no cab, thanks. I’ll walk.”

  The fresh air was a welcome relief. Scanning the parking lot, Cooper looked for Fagin’s car. He remembered thinking how sweet it was Fagin parked it on the edge of the parking lot, not wanting it scratched. The parking spot was empty.

  Thanks a fucking lot, ALPHA. Turning away from the glaring evidence of neglect, Cooper pulled up his collar and shoved his hands in his pocket. It was going to be a long walk back to his apartment but there was no way Cooper was going to Fagin’s. If the asshole could forget his mating vows the first freaking time they went out, he wasn’t worth chasing. Decision made, Cooper concentrated on putting one step in front of the other. He’d barely made it out of the parking lot before the back of his head exploded in pain and he fell to the ground.

  /~/~/~/~/

  Thanks a fucking lot, ALPHA.

  Fagin came too with a start. Cooper? Cooper! “What the fuck,” Someone had his pants open, clawing his limp cock like they were trying to tug it out of its roots. That’s not Cooper, his wolf snarled.

  I guessed that. Where the fuck’s my mate? Fagin batted the hands away, wincing as his cock was caught by a fingernail. “Get off me,” he growled as he struggled to open his eyes.

  “Fagin, baby. Don’t be like that. I’m just trying to give you a helping hand. It’s not like you to have issues getting it up.” A very naked Missy swung her legs over his hips as she grinned with a hint of fang. “Had a bit too much to drink, baby?”

  “Drink.” Fagin clutched his head as he struggled to remember. The bar. Drinking. “It was you. You spiked my fucking drink. Stay the fuck away from me.” Sitting up with a roar, he pushed Missy off the bed. A quick look around told him he was in his pack apartment, still in the clothes he went out in. Just. Tucking his cock into his pants, wincing at the bruises and scratch marks, he zipped himself up, got up and grabbed his jacket which had been slung over the bedside cabinet. “What the fuck did you do to Buster?”

  “Buster’s having his own party, baby.” Missy got off the floor and brushed her hand across her butt. “And there’s no point in zipping up those pants or putting your jacket on. You ain’t getting out of this room until I get the pups the alpha promised me. If you want to see that little cutie you claim to be bonded to again, you’d better get that equipment working and quick.”

  “What have you done to Cooper?” Fagin’s fangs dropped, and claws sprouted from his fingers.

  “Me?” Missy was all wide eyed innocence, but Fagin wasn’t fooled. “I’ve done nothing to your boy toy. Why would I? My only focus is you. We met at that horrid bar, don’t you remember? You were certainly pleased to see me. You couldn’t keep your hands off me and begged me to take you home. I delivered.” She stretched her limbs across the bed and crooked her finger at him. “Now give me the reward you promised me for being so good to you.”

  “I wouldn’t touch you with someone else’s dick,” Fagin snarled, ignoring the sensual picture and striding towards the door. It was locked and there was no key in the door.

  “Looking for something?” Missy’s grin was feral as she held up the door key. “I told you, you weren’t leaving until I got what I came here for. But you can try and get it from me if you like.”

  Ignoring her, Fagin gripped the door handle and turned it hard, splintering the wood as the door cracked under the pressure. Flinging it open he saw two of his father’s enforcers standing guard – Buster’s father was one of them. “I can’t believe either one of you would be a party to this,” Fagin growled. “Stand down or take your last breath.” Fagin wasn’t messing with anyone anymore. He had to find Buster, he needed to get to Cooper. Flexing his alpha power, he only got minimal pleasure from the way both men fell to their knees, barely able to breathe. Missy started shrieking the moment he went through the door. Fagin tuned her out.

  “Buster? Buster?” Running down the hallway Fagin headed for his friend’s apartment. Their abductors were either not very smart, or Jerome hadn’t told them he was true mated. Or he would be, or should be, only his link to Cooper was muted and that was scaring Fagin more than anything else. “Buster, get the fuck up,” he said pounding on his friend’s door. When that didn’t work, he took two steps back, turned his shoulder and slammed it into the flimsy wood. Buster was there but he wasn’t pretty.

  “Oh fuck, my friend, I can’t believe they’d do this to you.” Hurrying to Buster’s bedside, Fagin tore the bed apart to release his friend from the cuffs binding him. Buster had taken one hell of a beating, one half of his face swollen to double its usual size and boot marks on his chest and ribs. “Buster, wake up.” Fagin tapped the less swollen side of his face. “Come on buddy, we’ve got to get out of here.”

  “What the….” Buster woke up swinging and Fagin ducked as a beefy fist headed his way. “Fagin, fuck. What happened?”

  “We got fucking roofied, that’s what happened. Come on, we’re getting out of here.” Slipping his arm under Buster’s shoulder, Fagin coaxed his friend to his feet. “Do you need to shift?”

  Buster nodded. “How come you didn’t get beat up?” He slurred as he undid his pants and let them fall to the floor.

  “You should see the state of my cock,” Fagin snarled. “I’m not sure I’ll ever get a hard on again.”

  “Fuck. Little dude. What happened to Cooper?” Buster stumbled as he kicked off his boots. Fagin steadied him as he tried to tune into his mating bond. He got nothing and Fagin’s anxiety increased.

  “If the gods are smiling on us, then he’s still sitting in Murphy’s getting more pissed at us by the second. But I haven’t got a fucking clue how long we’ve been here or if they’ve taken him too.” Fagin waited for his friend to shift. The cuffs fell to the ground as Buster’s wolf form emerged. “Stay that way. If you catch the slightest hint of Cooper’s scent, let me know.”

  The corridors of the apartment complex were deserted as man and wolf hurried towards the exit. They’ll all be on the pack run, Fagin cursed. His father had lost the last of his marbles. That was the only explanation Fagin could come up with. It would be easy to assume Missy was working alone, but the presence of his father’s two main enforcers outside his apartment door put paid to that idea.

  Find Cooper, then deal with father. Fagin watched as Buster sniffed over every inch of the stairs leading up to the apartment complex, before shaking his shaggy head. Okay, they didn’t
take him. That has to be a good thing, right?

  But his mate’s sweet voice in his head didn’t answer him and Fagin’s fear for his mate increased. Spotting his car parked in his usual spot, Fagin took off at a run, Buster at his heels. Barely allowing time for the wolf to jump in, Fagin got the car started, the wheels spitting up gravel as he took off out of pack grounds.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Cooper woke to the smell of wolves. Two wolves to be specific as well as the acrid stench of mold and damp. Reaching up to feel his aching head a heavy clink let him know that wasn’t possible. I’m in chains. What the…? Opening his eyes, because his movement would have already given away the fact he was awake already, Cooper was relieved to find he was alone for now. That was the only tick on the positive side of the equation.

  There was a hell of a lot on the negative side of the ledger. The room was a cliché dungeon – concrete block walls, roughcast concrete floor, a tiny barred window set too high up to be of any use to Cooper. One steel door provided the only exit and the only furnishings was the smelly, lumpy mattress under his butt and a bucket. “I sure hope the fates have a complaints department,” Cooper said loudly, trying to cover his nerves at being alone in such a dank place. He’d hated being locked up since his father used it as a regular punishment when he was young. “I got shortchanged in the mating stakes and I demand a refund. One of you should come down here and sort this shit out now.”

  Yeppers, Cooper had no problems working out why he’d been kidnapped. This was all to do with Fagin. He’d managed to stay under the radar for the full seven months he’d been working at Abrahams and Michaels and never gotten even a sniff of a shifter. Now, within two days, or was it five, Cooper couldn’t remember, he’d been claimed and kidnapped. Cooper dealt in numbers and in this case, two and two definitely added up to four.

  Think about the positives. It was his mother’s favorite saying and a tear fell down his cheek as Cooper remembered how simple life had been before his mother died. Yes, he had to stay clear of his father after he’d shifted, and yes, he’d been the butt of many a joke from his siblings, but his mother had been a warm presence by his bedside every night and she’d done her best to keep him safe. His overactive brain wouldn’t let him forget Fagin promised the same thing. Cooper snorted. He’d rather dwell on the memory of his mother.

  “Positives, right,” he said out loud. “Number one, I’m breathing. Life always has the chance of improving while my lungs still work. Number two, the cuffs aren’t tight enough to leave marks, although I can’t reach the bucket.” Gods, Cooper was glad he wasn’t a beer drinker. He wasn’t about to piss on the floor anytime soon.

  “Three,” Cooper looked around for inspiration. “I’m not sharing my cell with a giant man called Bubba who wants to make me his bitch and forces me to hand wash his smelly underwear. Speaking of which, positive number four, I still have my clothes on.” Obviously, his captors hadn’t got the memo about Omegas not being fit to wear expensive items like the jacket Fagin bought for him and had left him clothed.

  “My jacket. Nuts.” Cooper would have smacked his head if he could reach it. “My jacket has a phone in it.” Cooper didn’t want to lean on the moldy wall, but it was the only way he could reach his inside pocket. The familiar oblong shape never felt so good in his hand. Clicking it on, Cooper was relieved to see he had two bars worth of battery.

  “But who to call, who to call?” His first instinct was to call Fagin, but the man had gone off willingly with a female. “He probably won’t want to be interrupted.” Cooper ignored his wolf’s whimper and his demand to shift and find the errant alpha. Being on four feet was only going to make the window higher still out of his reach and he wouldn’t have the comfort of his clothes. It wasn’t as though his small wolf form could fight any of his own kind.

  “I need to know where I am.” Cooper muttered. His eye’s gleamed as he spotted the familiar Google icon. “Google, my old friend. Show me where the nearest coffee shop is.” Cooper had never mastered the art of typing with his thumb, and he made more than one mistake before the swirling circles let him know Google was searching for him.

  “Thank goodness,” Cooper was relieved to see his favorite Starbucks showing up on the map. “Now, Google, give me the directions on how to get there.” He clicked ‘from his current location’.

  “Yes.” Cooper’s fist pump was hampered by his damn cuffs, but according to Google he was only ten minutes’ drive away from his local coffee spot. The ‘send directions to your phone’ link teased him with options, although they were limited. Beth or Fagin were his only two choices. His phone told him it was 2.13 am so Beth was out. Besides, there was no way Cooper was going to drag his human friend into a wolf matter. That left Fagin.

  “I can’t change the phone number on my Google account to Fagin’s. Fagin would have to verify it. But….” Cooper quickly sent a text of the directions to his own phone and then got out of Google and back into his message program. The text from Google was there with a link. Pressing hard with his thumb on the message, Cooper took a screen shot of it and pressed the share button. Quickly typing in Fagin’s name, he clicked on the contact and pressed send.

  “Now,” he said to the concrete walls as he turned off his phone to conserve the battery and stuck it carefully back in his inner jacket pocket. “All we have to do is hope our illustrious alpha can get his nose out of that woman’s boobs long enough to answer his phone and work out what I’m trying to tell him.”

  Crossing his legs, Cooper rested the back of his hands as best he could on the top of his thighs and closed his eyes. It was time for some meditation; not that it’d ever worked for Cooper before. But desperate times called for desperate measures and Cooper was willing to try visualizing himself in a nice warm bath complete with bubbles and a foot massage, if it meant he could forget he was all alone, chained in a damn cell with the chance of physical punishment or even death coming his way at any time. He only wanted five minutes respite. Surely, he could meditate for that long.

  /~/~/~/~/

  Fagin kicked at Murphy’s bar door hard enough to make the padlocks rattle. “Where the hell is he? So many damn people have been tramping in and out of here, his scent will be impossible to pick up.”

  Still in wolf form, Buster shook his head, before putting his nose to the ground, loping backwards and forwards across the parking lot, going in a wider circle every time. Fagin could appreciate the gesture and there was a part of him that wanted to shift too, if for no other reason than the clear the residue of whatever drugs Missy had pumped him with from his head. His wolf knew Cooper was alive, but that was all he knew. Everything else was just a hazy blur.

  But while Buster was in his wolf form, Fagin needed to stay on two feet. If anyone came by and saw the humungous four-footed furry animal roaming around, it would be Fagin who’d have to pass him off as a rare cross-breed of dog or give some other excuse. As he watched Buster getting closer to where his car had been originally parked, he struggled to work out when the evening had gone so horribly wrong.

  From the start. He shook his head. We should’ve stayed home. Fagin recognized asshole behavior, especially when he was the one responsible, and leaving Cooper sitting in a booth by himself, with no one to talk to, was a shitty thing to do. At the time, Fagin justified it in a dozen different ways; Cooper didn’t know any of his friends, Cooper was an accountant and wouldn’t have anything in common with his biker buddies, Cooper was shy and probably didn’t want to be introduced to anyone Fagin knew. Yeah, the list was endless and while he was semi-sober, they all made perfect sense.

  But the bottom line was, Fagin wasn’t sure if his drinking buddies would accept him with a male partner, and so he’d kept just enough distance from Cooper, while still being able to protect him from bullies. Or at least that was his original intention. Fagin had a nasty suspicion he’d probably let Cooper down there too.

  But what the fuck happened then? Fagin remembered downing more th
an his fair share of beers and whiskey chasers. He was chatting to a couple of regulars he knew from his own bar and then…then…Fagin slapped himself in the side of the head. Bobby Joe.

  “Fucking Jim Bob and Bobby Joe,” Fagin yelled across the parking lot. Buster was almost at the trees on the edge of the lot and simply flicked his ears to let him know he’d heard. Those assholes must have spiked our drinks and then…. Fagin groaned as he got a memory glimpse of him leaning on Missy, a huge leer on his face, and his hand cupping her breast through her clothes while he continued to drink.

  Cooper is never, ever, ever, going to forgive me for this. No matter how hard he tried, Fagin couldn’t remember a thing after that until he woke up in his apartment with Missy trying to get his cock hard enough to sit on. But one thing was crystal clear in Fagin’s mind. Yes, he’d been drugged, and Missy tried to take advantage of him; yes, Jim Bob and Bobby Joe were likely responsible for Buster’s beating and for getting them both to his pack apartment in the first place. Yes, he was the one who’d been drinking steadily and wasn’t keeping his wits about him. But none of the horror events of the evening, including Cooper’s disappearance would’ve happened if he’d admitted who Cooper was to him in the first place. Cooper would’ve been sober enough to see what Missy and the others were doing, even if he was too busy being a wallowing drunk to notice anything. And I only wanted to wallow because my damn father, who set me up, again, upset me. Cooper has every right to fucking shoot me for being such an ass.

  Fagin felt his phone vibrate as Buster barked. Sprinting across the parking lot, he studied the ground under the harsh street lamp. Kneeling down, Fagin swiped his finger through a smear of blood left on the concrete. It was relatively fresh. Raising his finger to his nose, Fagin sniffed hard. My mate’s been hurt, he thought as Buster whimpered. My precious Cooper’s been fucking hurt.

  “See if you can find anything else and then we’re going back to the pack house. We must have missed something.”