Wolf Unleashed

by Paige Tyler

  “I’d stop fighting if I were you,” Alex suggested as he fought to shift back. “Before you embarrass yourself.”

  The big man didn’t seem interested in taking that advice and only lowered his head and charged Alex like a damn bull. Alex sidestepped him, slamming his forearm into the man’s back as the guy barreled past. The blow drove the dealer to the ground, shoving his face into the dirt with a thud. Alex didn’t wait for him to get up. Instead, he bent over and cuffed him before the guy got his wits back together. Then he dragged the man to his feet and walked straight over to pick up the plastic bags he’d tossed.

  “That’s not mine!” the bearded man claimed, struggling against Alex’s grip.

  Alex snorted. “Right. Then I’m sure your fingerprints won’t be all over the bags.”

  The dealer didn’t say anything as Alex led him back to the intersection where the chase had started. Either the man was thinking about whether he really had left fingerprints on the baggies, or he was stewing over the fact that he was screwed.

  Alex got back just as Remy arrived, the other dealer slung over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. The man was out cold, a nasty bruise already developing across the side of his face.

  “What the hell happened to him?” Alex asked as two uniformed officers came over to relieve them of their suspects and the drugs.

  “He ran into a tree,” Remy said.

  Alex arched a brow. He couldn’t help but remember what his pack mate had said about not being responsible if the man resisted.

  “What? I’m serious.” Remy gave him an indignant look. “He was so worried about me chasing him that he wasn’t watching where he was going. He smacked into a tree like some cartoon character, I swear. It was pure Wile E. Coyote stuff.”

  Some werewolves in the Pack had the ability to sense when someone was lying to them—Alex wasn’t one of them. But he got the feeling Remy was telling the truth. The story was too crazy not to be true.

  As they walked back toward the corner where the drug deal had been going down, he caught sight of Brooks and Max across the street, along with Vaughn, the female narcotics officer. As he and Remy approached, he couldn’t help but notice that Vaughn was staring at Brooks like he had horns sprouting from his head and a rainbow flying out his butt.

  She opened her mouth to say something to Brooks, but then closed it again. After a moment, she shook her head and walked away, looking back over her shoulder at Brooks every other step. The attractive dark-skinned cop was eyeballing him so much she almost smacked into a parked patrol car.

  “What the heck was that about?” Alex asked Max as Brooks hurried to catch up with her.

  Max shrugged, his blue eyes following their pack mate. “Brooks tackled a car again. He hit that little Toyota so hard that both wheels came up off the street, and Vaughn saw it. I guess she’s trying hard as hell to convince herself that her eyes must have been playing tricks on her.”

  Alex knew he shouldn’t be surprised. In a pack of really big alpha werewolves, Brooks was frigging huge. And with his football background, he had a bad habit of tackling anything that either tried to stand in his way or get away from him—including cars. He’d pay the price for it later in the form of bruises over half his body and broken bones that would take hours to heal. That had never stopped him before though and probably wouldn’t any time soon.

  Then again, maybe he’d just been showing off for that narcotics cop. Vaughn was definitely cute, and Brooks was attracted to her. Alex had seen him putting the moves on the woman several times over the past couple of weeks.

  “Maybe we should get him a tackling dummy for the compound,” Max suggested. “You know, so he can work out his aggression issues.”

  “Or get him paired up with The One for him as fast as possible,” Remy suggested. “It’s bound to mellow him out. If we can find somebody big enough and rough enough to match him.”

  Alex was thinking maybe Vaughn could be that match. Working narcotics, she certainly wasn’t a pushover. Beside him, Remy’s phone vibrated.

  “That Vivian telling you to hurry up?” Alex asked.

  Remy scowled as he read her text. “It’s Vivian telling me not to bother coming over. She found someone else to keep her bed warm for what’s left of the night.”

  Max winced. “Dude, that’s harsh.”

  “It’s just as well,” Alex said. “She would have been pissed when you told her you couldn’t make it because you’re going to be filling out paperwork for the next couple of hours.”

  “I am?” Remy asked, clearly confused.

  “Hell, yeah. And you’d better dot your i’s and cross your t’s, because something tells me Detective Coletti in IA is going to be looking at that report real hard.” Alex grinned. “I hope that charming accent of yours works on guys as well as it does on women, because I think he’s going to have a real hard time believing that drug dealer ran into a tree.”

  Remy groaned and shoved his phone in his pocket.

  Alex watched as the uniformed officers providing backup finished getting all the suspects safely tucked away in the back of police cruisers, including the undercover cop and the slim, frail-looking woman. Both of them looked equally despondent. Alex couldn’t blame them. One was heading to jail to gain street cred, and the other was going because she was addicted to a nasty drug that was slowly killing her.

  At least in the case of the cop, spending a night or two in jail might be worth it if it ended up getting fireball—and whoever was making it—off the street.

  * * *

  Alex stifled a yawn as he stared at the TV mounted on the far wall of the waiting area in the veterinary clinic. He’d gotten thirty minutes of sleep this morning and was frigging exhausted. Several of the other guys in the Pack had offered to take Tuffie to her appointment so he could head home and crash, but he hadn’t taken any of them up on it. Taking Tuffie for her checkups wasn’t something he’d ever let anyone else do for him. So he’d showered off, changed into one of the fresh uniforms he kept in his locker at the SWAT compound, and headed out with the team’s mascot and community pet in tow.

  He glanced at Tuffie sitting on the floor beside his chair and couldn’t help but smile. The girl was an absolute doll, even after the horrendous life she’d had. It was obvious from all the scars on her body that the pit bull mix had spent a portion of it in a dogfighting ring—something that pissed him off every time he thought about it. Thankfully, she’d been rescued by the owner of a local junkyard who’d given her a new life and taken good care of her. Unfortunately, that life had been cut short when the psycho ex-boyfriend of the Pack’s newest member, Khaki Blake, had shot Tuffie and killed her owner. Alex had stabilized her as well as he could, along with Trey Duncan, the team’s other medic, but the injuries had been severe, and she’d been in surgery for a long time. It was a miracle she’d survived at all.

  So while it could sometimes be tricky getting her to the clinic for all her appointments, Alex made it a priority. Tuffie was a survivor. If she could find it in her to keep smiling and wagging her tail after everything she’d been through, he could certainly rearrange his schedule a little to get her there.

  He was still sitting there watching the news an hour later when a dark-haired vet tech came out to apologize for the wait, saying they were down to one doctor and that everything was backed up.

  “I can reschedule Tuffie for another day, if you want?” she offered.

  Alex shook his head. “It’s okay. We’ll wait.”

  He leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, promising himself he’d just rest them for a second, when he heard the front door open. He opened his eyes to see a female DPD uniformed officer come in cradling a tiny malnourished-looking beagle mix in her arms. She checked in with the front desk, then took a seat next to Alex. The fragile-looking puppy curled into a ball and immediately fell asleep in the co
p’s lap.

  Tuffie opened her eyes and gave the puppy a once-over, then went back to sleep.

  “Who’s this little guy?” Alex asked.

  The officer—her name tag read Bell—smiled down at the tiny puppy, then explained that she worked in the department’s new Animal Cruelty Squad. “We mostly investigate rooster and dogfighting operations because of their frequent connection to gang activity and the drug trade, but we also respond to emergency calls when Animal Services is overwhelmed. We found this little guy trapped in an abandoned warehouse. We would never have found him if some homeless people hadn’t heard him whining and reported it.”

  Alex gently ran his fingers over the puppy’s soft fur, careful not to wake him up. He’d heard a little about the new ACS, but hadn’t met any of the cops assigned to it yet. Too many times, city animal control officers were asked to deal with situations that should have been handled by armed law enforcement personnel. The squad was organized under the Field Services Division, along with other special services like K-9 and SWAT, and from what Alex had heard, they’d already started making a difference. If he weren’t in SWAT, he would have transferred to ACS in a heartbeat.

  Officer Bell glanced at Tuffie. “I’d heard that SWAT had taken in an abused pit fighter. Is this her?”

  Alex started to answer when the local channel interrupted the program on the TV with breaking news. Judging from all the cameras and media types visible on the scene, something big was going on. He realized what it was the moment a woman stepped up to the podium in front of the crowd and earnestly begged anyone out there watching who might have information concerning the whereabouts of her missing daughter to call the DPD Missing Persons Squad.

  Admittedly, Alex had been buried in the drug task force stuff, but he vaguely remembered seeing a department alert on the girl. Abigail Elliott, a junior at Regional Texas College, had been missing for four days. As far as he knew, missing persons hadn’t come up with anything to even substantiate whether her disappearance involved foul play, much less found a lead that might bring her home. Her family was obviously hoping a public plea would generate something the police could use.

  When the girl’s mother finished speaking, a distinguished-looking man with salt-and-pepper hair and dressed in an impeccable suit stepped up and begged people to take a moment out of their busy lives and call the police if they saw anything suspicious. Alex couldn’t remember the man’s name, but he recognized a powerful speaker when he saw one. The impassioned words might just make a difference for this girl.

  “Poor woman,” Officer Bell said quietly. “I can’t imagine what she’s going through. If Councilman McDonald wasn’t a friend of the Elliotts, the news probably wouldn’t even waste the time putting her on camera.”

  Councilman McDonald. Now that Alex had a name to put with the face, it was easier to remember where he’d seen the guy. He didn’t know much about the man personally, but he knew McDonald was a big supporter of the Dallas Police Department and had been instrumental in getting the current chief of police, Randy Curtis, appointed to his position. He seemed sincere in his efforts to help Ms. Elliott, which was kind of surprising. In Alex’s experience, there were few politicians who did anything that wasn’t directly related to getting votes in the next election.

  McDonald was just answering questions from reporters when the vet tech walked over. “Dr. Barton will be able to see you and Tuffie now.”

  Alex frowned as he stood up. “Dr. Barton? Where’s Doc Jones? He’s been taking care of Tuffie from day one.”

  The vet tech gave him an apologetic smile. “Like I said, we’re down to one vet today—Dr. Barton. If you want to see Dr. Jones, you’ll need to make another appointment.”

  Alex hesitated. Jones had done all of Tuffie’s surgeries, and Alex trusted the guy to take care of her. He wasn’t sure what he thought about someone who didn’t have previous experience with Tuffie’s injuries checking her out. But with the task force workload, Alex also didn’t have a clue what his schedule was going to look like.

  “No, we’ll see Dr. Barton.”

  The vet tech nodded. “She’s waiting for you in exam room four,” she said, then hurried over to talk to a woman who’d just walked in with an angry, hissing cat that didn’t want anything to do with being in a room full of dogs.

  “Don’t worry,” Officer Bell said. “Dr. Barton knows her stuff. I think you’ll be impressed.”

  Alex nodded his thanks, then led Tuffie into the exam room.

  Dr. Barton was bent over rummaging through a bottom drawer of the built-ins on the far wall. Even though Alex did his best not to stare, it was impossible not to notice that she had an incredibly spectacular ass. He’d always been a leg man, but one look at her derrière and he suddenly decided he’d been missing out. Then she stood up, turned around, and flipped her long, wavy blond hair over her shoulder, and he realized that the rest of her was equally stunning. While her baggy white lab coat hid a lot, he could still tell that she had an athletic build and some really nice curves. It was her face that made his heart beat faster, though. She had the most captivating pair of blue eyes he’d ever seen and full red lips just begging to be kissed. From this moment forward, whenever he pictured an angel, he would think of the beautiful Dr. Barton.

  Alex smiled, and when she smiled back, he heard her heart thudding a little quicker. But then she looked down at Tuffie, and her entire expression changed. Hurrying over, she dropped down to one knee beside Tuffie, gently examining her ears and face.

  She gave Alex an angry glare. “Please tell me you arrested the people who put this beautiful girl in a dogfighting ring. Even better—tell me you shot them.”

  If Alex had thought her heart was beating fast before, it was nothing compared to the way it was thumping now. Clearly, Dr. Barton was very passionate about protecting dogs. In his book, that made her even more beautiful than she already was.

  “I wish I could, but unfortunately, we never found the people who did it,” Alex said. “We rescued Tuffie when her owner was killed. He died trying to protect her from a psychopath armed with a rifle.”

  Dr. Barton’s gaze went back to Tuffie, her expression turning from anger to sadness as she ran her fingers down the fresh scars along the dog’s chest and side. “Looks like she got shot anyway.”

  “Yeah. It’s a miracle she lived long enough for my teammate and me to get her here in time for Doc Jones to save her. Thank God for sirens. I think we ran every red light in town.”

  The veterinarian straightened, gracing him with another dazzling grin, and Alex felt his knees go a little loose. Damn, what a smile.

  “I knew there was something I liked about you the second you walked in.”

  Alex felt his face flush. “It wasn’t a big deal. I’m a cop. Saving people—and dogs—comes with the job description.”

  He cringed the moment the words left his mouth. Had he really just said something that lame?

  Thankfully, the beautiful Dr. Barton didn’t seem to notice the cheesy line. Or if she had, she was too polite to laugh at him.

  “And is bringing Tuffie to her appointments also in your job description?” she asked, her eyes twinkling.

  Was her heart beating even faster than before? Unless it was his own heart pounding in his ears. That was a definite possibility. Because it seemed like he had a real thing for Dr. Barton.

  He smiled. “It is if the rest of the SWAT team and I adopted her and gave her a new home.”

  Alex knew it was a shameless grab to get further into the doctor’s good graces, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself.

  “Not only did you save her life, but you adopted her too? I think Tuffie hit the lottery with you, Officer…?”

  “Trevino,” he said, filling in the blank and offering his hand. “But please, call me Alex.”

  She took his hand and gave it a shake. “Nice to meet you, A
lex. I’m Lacey Barton.”

  Her hand was small in comparison to his, her skin soft and warm, and Alex found himself holding on a bit longer than was customary. Lacey didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she appeared just as reluctant to let go as he did.

  She pushed her hair behind her ear and cleared her throat. “I guess we ought to get on with Tuffie’s checkup. So you can get back to saving the world and everything.”

  “Yeah, of course.”

  Reaching down, Alex gently picked up Tuffie and set her on the stainless steel exam table.

  “Nice muscle tone,” Lacey murmured.

  Alex felt the compliment go right to his head. “Thanks.”

  “Actually, I was talking about Tuffie,” Lacey said as she tenderly ran her hands over the dog’s shoulders.

  “Oh.”

  She looked up at him from beneath her lashes. “But yours is pretty good too.”

  Alex chuckled. Damn, this woman was good. He had her by a foot in height and more than a hundred pounds in weight, yet she was playing him like a fiddle, and he didn’t mind one bit. He couldn’t remember ever having such an immediate and intense reaction to any woman he’d ever met. Suddenly, he wanted to know everything there was to know about her—and then some.

  Lacey was more than accommodating, telling him about how she’d recently gotten a job here after working several years at a place on the west side of Dallas closer to Arlington.

  “I loved it there, but this place is closer to my apartment,” she told him as she continued to examine Tuffie. “I’ve cut my commute time by about an hour and a half each way, so it’s like getting a whole extra day off to do stuff I want to do instead of sitting in traffic.”

  “And what do you like to do with all this extra time?” he asked.

  Lacey leaned over to read something in Tuffie’s medical records. Alex tensed, worried she’d found something wrong, but after a moment, she merely nodded to herself, then went back to checking Tuffie.