by Fel Fern
Suddenly, all the damn tabloids could dig out were the dozens of affairs he had. His personal assistant had a hard time paying off the men he slept with, assholes eager to make a quick buck. Thanks to Tom’s departure, his reputation turned black overnight.
“I don’t need that fucking human.”
His father turned, yellow eyes narrowed.
Unaffected, Bradley fixed the old man a bored look. “Tom’s a nobody. He doesn’t even have a position in his father’s company.”
Instead, the human chose to open a stupid bookstore. Even a fool lacking any knowledge in business wouldn’t pursue such a risky venture. True, maybe he once considered Tom a friend, but that was years ago. They weren’t boys any longer, but men. Tom understood what he signed up for when they agreed to be fake mates.
Bradley long ago knew how to separate business from pleasure, to not let pesky emotions get in the way of what he wanted. Tom was too emotional, too dramatic.
“A nobody? Tom Meadows is the image of a perfect mate. Thanks to that human, you’re painted as a saint to the press. Now, they know the truth. Fix this, Bradley. No arguments.”
“How? Tom no longer has my mate mark.”
His father gave him a stare that once scared him when he was younger. Too bad Bradley was an adult now. So what, if some of his decisions weren’t sound? He was fucking Bradley Morris for crying out. He could do whatever he wanted, fuck whoever he wanted.
Screw the world, but his father had a point. He needed to fix his public image. Fastest way to that was to convince Tom to play his mate again. Not hard, given Tom’s cute little crush on him. Tom couldn’t be reached, though, despite his lawyer’s and personal assistance’s attempts.
Maybe Tom was playing a game with him, playing hard-to-get. Well, Tom was about to find out Bradley wasn’t a guy to be messed with.
“I’ll fix it,” he eventually answered.
As much as he loathed taking orders from his father, he knew he couldn’t take the old man now. Bradley needed the support of the pack first, and to do that, he had to show them he was man enough to put a leash on his human mate. He’d noticed the way they gossiped about him during pack meetings. They never dared to say it to his face, but he knew what they were discussing.
How could a man who couldn’t control his mate be Alpha?
Bradley’s always been an oddball. Joshua spoiled him too much.
Fuck that. He was going to show them all. As for Tom? He was going to make sure the damn human knew his rightful place, even if it meant chaining Tom to the apartment, only letting the human out during social events.
He turned on his heel, about to leave the office.
“Bradley,” his father added. “Don’t fail me.”
Once out of the office building, he scoffed. He glanced up. It was close to midnight now. Fuck. Usually, he drowned himself in liquor and a good fuck toy at this time, but tonight, he had other matters to attend to.
If his damn PA couldn’t do her job, he’d hunt down Tom himself, although it had been long since he did his own legwork. Bradley had underlings for that. He had money, status, a powerful pack that was going to be his to control, but Tom had to be a damper in his plans.
He’d tried the civilized route, through phone calls and messages sent by his PA, but perhaps brute force was better.
Tom only had to be one place. Bradley got into his black Jaguar and drove straight to Tom’s pathetic bookstore. He parked the car across the street, studied the closing down sale signage with some satisfaction. It looked like Tom was finally out of business.
Bradley spotted the lights in the store. Tom was inside. Good. His wolf warned him to stay put, though, sensing a potential threat. He laughed at that. Who or what could be a threat to Bradley Morris? Besides, who would want cast off goods like Tom?
All the hairs on his arm rose as the door of the bookstore opened. Tom came out, smile on his face, looking like the world’s biggest idiot. He wasn’t alone. A huge man had a muscled arm wrapped around Tom’s shoulder, a possessive hold. He couldn’t go any nearer, because the other shifter, he was certain of it, would sense the presence of his dominant wolf, as well.
Fury and envy boiled inside of him. Tom might be useless, a chew toy, but fuck, no one took from Bradley without paying for it. He gripped the wheel of his car until he heard plastic and metal break. Red filled his vision.
Who the hell was this fucker? How dare he take what rightfully belonged to Tom?
Bradley clenched his jaw. That was it. Both this fucker and Tom were going to pay for ruining his life.
Chapter Ten
“Anyway, gotta rush to work, baby,” Raul said, leaning over the kitchen counter to give Tom a kiss on the mouth.
Tom parted his lips, tasting Raul on him, wanting Raul to do more. Maybe he could convince Raul to have some quick sexy times before he headed off, then remembered someone else was in the kitchen with them. Asher merely rolled his eyes at them, then sipped his drink. “I’m taking a shower.”
Asher finished his mug of coffee, before leaving the kitchen. Tom heard his footsteps on the stairs. At first, he thought Asher didn’t like him, but Raul’s best friend eventually let his guard down and became comfortable enough to joke with him, even without Raul there.
“So,” Raul said, leaning against the counter. “You’ll call me if, you know, you need company?”
In the past, Tom would have been offended if Raul thought he couldn’t take care of himself, especially after officially closing the bookstore three days ago, but not anymore. His mate taught him that it wasn’t bad to lean on another occasionally.
Besides, Raul had said not long ago, I like taking care of you.
Such a simple statement, and yet it made him blush. Tom had been so used to fending for himself and watching his back, that it felt odd for someone else to start worrying for him. It was nice, he mused.
“I will,” he promised, then walked Raul out the door.
Tom planned on taking Raul’s advice to take things slow until he figured out what he wanted to do next. Raul gave him another peck on the cheek, before exiting the house and heading to his car. He watched Raul’s muscled, broad back, recalling their passionate love making in the bookstore. That one last ride remained branded in his mind. He curved his lips to a smile. Raul always seemed to know what he needed. He closed the door.
Tom thought he could take a slow day, walk around the city, head to the local park. Maybe that would give him a little inspiration of what to do with his life next. He could get a normal job first, earn a living on the side while deciding if he’d try his hand at business again.
Tom headed back to the kitchen and stored the remaining bacon in a plastic container. Mornings were the same. The three of them would take turns cooking, although Asher was the best at it. Raul and him, not so much. Asher recently voiced he was thinking of finding a new place to rent, but he stepped in, telling the other shifter he wasn’t a bother.
Despite their rough exterior, both Raul and Asher were considerate men underneath. He’d met Jax and Winter, too, when he stopped by Raul’s office and liked the silent Winter and often joking Jax. Without realizing it, he’d integrated himself into Raul’s life. From someone who had no friends, no allies to begin with during his five-year fake relationship, he’d felt he’d taken a huge step forward.
After washing the cups and dishes, the doorbell rang. Did Raul forget something? His mate sometimes forgot the house key, or that was Raul’s reason, anyway. Perhaps Raul did want a little quickie, to have Tom for second breakfast. He rushed to the hallway, opened the front door unthinkingly.
“Baby, you forgot something?” He forgot what he wanted to say next, because it wasn’t Raul on the doorstep.
Wearing a crisp gray suit, blond hair meticulously gelled, Bradley shoved his hands in his pocket and grinned at him. Something about Bradley felt off, made him want to scratch at his skin. Blue eyes shot with gold met his, moving from his face to the exposed collar of hi
s shirt. Bradley dropped his smile, snarling as he caught sight of Raul’s mate mark.
He took an uncertain step back. Their last fight hadn’t exactly been peaceful. He’d been so stupid, provoking Bradley that way. Now, he finally realized Bradley had been this close to snapping, to using violence on him.
“Look who’s been a busy little bee. You shagged up with the first shifter you saw after dumping me?” Even Bradley’s voice, always smooth, careful, was hoarse, rough with anger. Had he pushed Bradley to the edge?
“What do you care? I mean nothing to you.”
That only seemed to make Bradley angry. Bradley snarled, the sound raising all the hairs on his arms. “You’re my property since the day I marked you.”
Every muscle in his body froze in place. What was he doing, acting like prey? That would only encourage an asshole like Bradley, who thought the world owed him. Tom firmly stood his ground, although he became all too aware that the shifter could easily snap his neck—all the bones in his body—if he wanted. Fear of the media would no longer stop Bradley from hurting him. News of their separation died down days ago.
Tom was back to being a nobody, which suited him just fine, because he loved being Raul’s mate. He tried to think past his fear.
“I’m not yours, never have been, and your mark faded a long time ago. How the hell did you find me, anyway?”
Another growl, warning him Bradley could easily turn violent. He might not be a shifter, but he could sense the waves of aggression rolling off Bradley.
“I saw you and your new lover at your bookstore.”
A chill went down his spine at those words. Three days ago, as they were exiting the bookstore to grab a quick bite, Raul remarked he thought he sensed a malicious presence on the street, but they chalked it off as nothing. He’d been too drunk on happiness. Pages Fantasy closing wasn’t the end of the world, after all, and he’d found the man he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.
Now, his past came to haunt him through Bradley. He could call Raul, but Bradley would reach him with his supernatural speed before he could so much as reach for his phone. The only solution was to keep distracting Bradley until Bradley placed his guard down.
“We can talk about this,” he finally said. “Negotiate something.”
A lie, because he wanted nothing to do with the cocky bastard, but Bradley didn’t know that.
“No. We’re done talking.” Bradley took another step toward him, yellow pupils gleaming with ill intent. “I’m taking you with me and making sure you’ll never run from me again.”
“Tom, who’s this?”
He jerked his head toward Asher’s voice. Asher stood on the stairs, freshly showered, towel over his neck, eyes narrowed at Bradley. The sight of the other shifter served to provoke Bradley, who roared. “What, one man not enough for you?” Bradley demanded, hand slipping under his blazer. In a fraction of a second, Bradley whipped out something sleek and silver. A revolver.
Tom dared glimpsed Asher, who froze misstep, ready to come between him and Bradley. The gun roared, and he saw Asher stumble. A second and third bullet landed right over Asher’s chest. Blood blossomed on tanned skin. Asher met his gaze, opened his mouth to say something, but he toppled over the stairs.
“Asher!” he was about to run to Asher when he felt the muzzle of the gun press against the side of his head.
He froze, heart thumping. “I’d be no use to you dead,” he whispered to Bradley, who jerked on his arm.
“True, that’s why I’m taking you instead.” Bradley lowered the gun to the square of his back. “You humans are so weak. Go ahead, struggle. I’ll shoot you in the spine. You won’t die, though, not with the best surgeons in the world under my beck and call. You’d just be perfectly helpless. I can see it now, the news headline. Bradley Morris nurses his ungrateful mate after his mate got shot by a thug. I’ll be a saint.”
“You’re crazy,” he whispered.
Bradley might be all plastic on the outside, but had Bradley always been this unstable? Not that he’d know, because most of the time, Bradley was absent from their fake relationship. Thinking back on his childhood, Bradley and he never spoke much, except for social functions. As a teenager, he’d been content to watch and admire from a distance.
“I’ll behave,” he finally said. “If I’m paralyzed, who would get your dry cleaning?”
Bradley considered him. “Good point. I don’t trust you, though. Out of the house.”
With the gun digging into his spine and Bradley griping his arm so hard he’d certain Bradley would leave bruises, they headed out the house. He spotted the red Ferrari on the street, one of Bradley’s many cars. His mind furiously worked.
He didn’t have the time to check on Asher. Were those bullets silver? God, did he get Raul’s best friend killed? Tom hadn’t wanted that, or any of this. Panic and dread built inside of him. He refused to let despair drag him under, disable his ability to think, find a solution. Even if those bullets were lethal and silver, he only prayed shifters were built stronger, that Asher would be able to find a way to call for help.
As for him? He needed to stay alive long enough for Raul to find him. The mate mark on his neck pulsed, reminding him he was connected to Raul in a kind of psychic level. He reached for the connection, only for Bradley to slam the butt of the revolver against the side of his skull. Tom’s head spun.
“I know what you’re doing,” Bradley hissed in his ear. “I’m not about to let you call for your new lover.”
Then Bradley hit him again. His vision swirled. Tom swayed on his feet, vaguely aware of losing his balance, tasting concrete later, the surface hard against his body. Bradley dragged him by the armpits. A car door opened and Bradley stuffed him inside without ceremony, a broken doll.
Raul, he thought faintly, before losing consciousness.
* * * *
Pain centered from Asher’s chest and spread to the rest of his body. Silver, he realized. No wonder the damn shots hit like a punch. Asher had been shot before, but this was sheer agony. Still, he couldn’t lose track of Raul’s human and that bastard Bradley Morris.
He knew it was Morris, because he’d seen pictures, had done his research on both Tom and Bradley. Tom, because the human had somehow, miraculously won over his best friend. Asher had been apprehensive at first, wondered how long Tom would last.
When Raul gave Tom his mating mark, Asher knew Tom would be a permanent fixture in their lives. He didn’t mind. Asher liked the human who seemed aloof at first, but was warm and funny once he’d gotten to know him.
Damn it, but Raul would kill him if he found out he’d let Tom be taken by a coward who was a shifter, too, but chose to use a fucking gun. Grunting past the pain, Asher crawled and clawed his way to the door, leaving a trail of blood on the floor. Reaching the opened door, he saw Bradley Morris chucking Tom’s unconscious body inside a flashy car. Asher gritted his teeth. He’d be of no use like this. The silver was like a poison through his bloodstream.
Running to Tom’s rescue would be impossible, but he could do one thing. He fished for his phone, dialed his best friend’s number. He prayed to God Raul would answer, because he started seeing dots in his vision.
“Asher, something up?” Raul answered on the third ring.
Asher forced himself to talk and by the time he was done, he’d exhausted all his energy. The phone slipped from his fingers. Blood pooled underneath him. He shut his eyes. At least, he’d done his duty to his friend.
Chapter Eleven
Raul felt a tingle on the back of his neck, his wolf warning him that Tom pulled on the mate bond. Then he received Asher’s call. He almost ignored it, was about to give Tom a call instead, but decided to answer it. His friend’s ragged words nearly stilled his heart.
Asher stopped talking, and he hadn’t realized he’d started shouting. “Asher? Fuck, man. Answer me?”
Fury kindled inside him. How dare Bradley Morris take his mate and shoot his friend?
“911 will get to Asher in time. I’ll head there, too,” Jax told him. “You and Winter track your mate.”
He hesitated, worried about Asher, but Tom sent that warning to him for a reason. Raul didn’t think Bradley would kill Tom, not immediately. Tom might be human, but he was strong, too. He nodded.
“Update us about Asher. Winter?”
Winter nodded. Raul trusted all of his friends at his back, knew they’d do anything in their power to help him. They exited the office. Both Winter and he got inside his car.
“Where to?” Winter asked.
Raul ignored his angry wolf pushing at his fragile control. “Bradley was stupid enough to use a flashy car, and Asher managed to get the plate number. Wait. I’ll give my contact at the police station a call.”
While he was doing that, Winter got a call from Jax. It took some time, but Raul finally got in touch with Detective Diaz. He’d leant his assistance to Diaz’s district on a number of cases, the recent one involving a shifter serial killer.
“Hold on,” Diaz said. “Let me check if he used any of his credit cards lately. A man like that wouldn’t like to use cash.”
He waited, saw Winter had finished his conversation with Jax. While Diaz put him on hold, he asked, “Asher?”
“The paramedics are taking him to the hospital. Jax’s riding with them. They’ve already extracted one bullet. He’s going to be fine.”
He let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Of course, his best friend was tough, but he worried all the same. With that off his mind, he focused his energies on the task at hand. Fuck, but the things he’d do to that bastard who thought he could take what rightfully belonged to Raul…