by Megan Derr
Troy lifted his hand—then oofed when James elbowed him in the gut. "Ugh, fine. I'll get the beer without the flirting, spoilsport." Shooting James a look when the words got him a light smack on the ass, he went to the beverage fridge to get the promised beer, pulling out a couple for himself and James as well. "So how long do you think it will take for them to sort this mess out?"
"Too long," Nancy muttered. "They promised they'd crack down and work fast, but if it were that easy to catch the culprits, I would still be at that meeting. Which was postponed, by the way. They put it on hold when I got the threat and insisted on leaving, but I assumed it would go on without me. When I landed I got an email saying they're suspending it until further notice due to gross misconduct."
Troy sneered. "That's one way to put it."
Nancy rolled her eyes in agreement. "At least everyone who'd heard about the way we were attacked at the house seemed genuinely concerned. I had mostly expected them to pretend it hadn't happened."
"Shifters stick with shifters," Brook said. "So far that tendency has been working against us since the drive was always protect, protect, protect. If people are going to start turning violent, however, support may tip to us. I would vastly prefer not to use violence as a path to victory."
"Our house nearly burned down, may as well use that in our favor," Colby said.
Brook gave a small, cold smile. "If that's not a kick in the metaphorical nuts, nothing is. I hope they're choking on their own rage that their attacks are helping us."
Sidney scowled and went to the fridge, rummaging around for his chocolate milk until his hands stopped shaking. All the flippancy wasn't fucking funny. He was going to kick them in the actual nuts.
Yawning, Nancy gestured to her sons. "I'm wiped. Colby, Brook, come help me with my things."
That was the too-casual Serious Talk voice. Thank god he wasn't them.
Finally finding where his chocolate milk had wound up behind a stack of Tupperware full of ominously-colored substances, he turned—and groaned when Troy and James folded their arms practically as one and just looked at him. When had Skylar and Brady left? "What? No. There has been enough capital letter talking today, may I please be excused?"
"Ha, no," James replied.
Sidney groaned again and took a seat at the island. "Fair warning, I am going to do my level best to tune you out."
"It's not very nice tuning out fatherly concern."
"Guilt-trip immunity," Sidney replied. "Anyway, I'm fine. I'm not the one people are trying to kill. Though apparently they're not actually all that bothered by it either since it's so useful to their stupid cause." He glared at his milk, then drained half of it.
Troy shook his head. "You know they're all bluster."
"Whatever," Sidney muttered. "They can bluster to themselves. I'm not going to stand around and be happy while people cheer about almost getting dead."
"Which was the next point on my agenda," James said. "I want you sleeping in your own bed tonight. For safety, but I also think you three need the space. It's been a busy day. Breathing room won't hurt."
Sidney opened his mouth to protest, then snapped it shut. He was tired, the twins would obviously be with Nancy the rest of the night. He wouldn't die, he'd be too busy sleeping. "Okay, but the safety bit is really thin."
James rolled his eyes. "Go away before I find a way to knock that smartass out of you."
"You've only yourself to blame." Sidney finished his milk and threw the bottle out, then hugged his dads and headed upstairs.
Grabbing the post-its on his desk, he jotted a quick note then went down the hall and stuck it to the twins' door. Come tell me goodnight before you crash xxx.
Returning to his room, he stripped off his clothes, pulled on his Batman pajama pants, and faceplanted on the bed. A few minutes later he rolled over and stared at the ceiling. Damn it, he'd left his ereader downstairs. How lazy was he?
Meh. He had paperbacks and a laptop. Settling on a paperback, he sprawled in bed again and began to read, not at all watching the clock on his desk. It was almost midnight, they'd probably show before too much longer.
On about two am, however, they still hadn't shown. He hadn't even heard anyone out in the hallway. Dropping his book on the bed, Sidney padded to the door and pulled it open. Across the way, the twins' door was closed, no light coming from the space between door and floor. The note he'd left was gone.
They hadn't come to say goodnight. Jeez, it wasn't like he'd planned to get mad at them or molest them or anything. Okay, he'd kind of hoped for a goodnight kiss, but that was it. He'd really just wanted to see them, say sweet dreams, how about we con Tory into making french toast in the morning?
But they'd just gone to bed. Not even a fucking text. Okay then. Why? Too tired? Forgot? Didn't want to? Maybe… maybe with Nancy there, and the twins therefore less stressed and upset, they realized they'd been rash or whatever. Were having second thoughts about shacking up with him and the trouble that was always going to come with dating him rather than keeping quietly to themselves.
Awesome. Not even a whole day and they were reconsidering. That was what he got for starting a relationship under duress. He was the one night stand they wanted to pretend had never happened. Fine. Whatever. He could pretend stuff never happened, too. He was an adult.
Maybe he was a teensy bit paranoid. But once the thoughts got their hooks in, he couldn't pry the fuckers out. They'd gone to bed without coming to see him. That didn't fit unless they didn't want to. Ugh. Sleep was definitely not going to be happening, and he was sick of his stupid space marines book. Time to go to the basement.
The house was creepy quiet as he walked carefully through it, the silence only occasionally broken by the wind outside, the odd creak, and his own sock-muffled footsteps.
His ereader was right where he'd left it, lying in the abandoned pile of blankets and pillows where he and the twins had dozed off. Grabbing it up, he turned on his heel and headed back up the basement stairs, switching off the light on his way.
Back on the main floor, he hesitated. He wasn't exactly in a rush to go back to his room, even though he was supposed to be there for 'safety' reasons. Which was fair enough. If something went wrong, best to know exactly where everyone was or should be. But a snack sounded like a really good idea, and it would only take a couple of minutes. Then he could go back to his room and be all safe while he buried his paranoia and misery with books and food.
Sidney headed for the kitchen. What to have for a snack… leftover dinner? Nah. Chocolate? Popcorn? No and no. Oh, they still had some of that coffee cake from the bakery. Coffee cake and warm milk, hell to the yes.
The kitchen was lit only by the soft yellow light over the stove and slivers of moonlight through the window over the sink. The tile floor was cold even through his socks, but the usual breeze was absent because the windows were closed and locked for once. Sidney made a face. Hopefully the assholes trying to hurt everyone would be caught soon.
Leaving his ereader on the island, he went to the fridge and rifled through it for the gallon of milk that had been pushed all the way to the back, sandwiched between the orange juice and a stack of Tupperware. He grabbed it, shifted a few items so it would fit better when he put it back, then closed the door and turned toward the stove—
And froze, staring wide-eyed at the man staring back at him. Older. Handsome but kind of mean looking. Behind him, the back door gaped open a few inches.
They moved at the same time. Sidney started to scream even as he turned, but the man lunged forward and slammed a fist into his face. The blow sent Sidney stumbling back, the milk slipping from his fingers to burst open and spill all over the fucking floor. Blood filled his mouth, and he could feel his lip stinging and throbbing.
Before he could catch a breath and react, the man slammed another fist into his stomach. Sidney doubled over, struggled to breathe, tears streaming down his face. The man shoved him up against the fridge, wrapped fingers tightly a
round his throat. Sidney fumbled at his hands, tried to stomp, kick, twist—anything. But all he got was his head slammed into the fridge, those fingers biting even harder into his throat.
Finally, the man gave a low, mean little laugh and threw him to the floor so Sidney sprawled in cold milk, gasping and shaking. Turning neatly on the heel of his heavy boot, the man walked off across the kitchen.
Sidney rolled to his stomach, got his hands under him and pushed to his knees, then reached up and grabbed the lip of the island countertop. Hauling himself to his feet, he snatched up the first thing he saw—his ereader—and lobbed it at the bastards head.
The man whipped around, but Sidney didn't give him a chance to retaliate. He grabbed the pots and pans hanging from the rack over the island started throwing: sauce pans, frying pans, a small cast iron, the stockpot. All of it. Didn't matter where they landed, so long as they made a racket.
But he wasn't too terribly upset when the last, tiny saucepan hit the stupid bastard dead in the face.
Sidney took a punch to the eye when the jerk reached him, but it was worth it because he could hear footsteps pounding upstairs, coming down the stairs like a herd of elephants. He heard James bellow in a way that would have been scary if it wasn't for his sake.
He scrambled out of the way as James came at the guy, huddled by the fridge as the bastard took a cabinet to the face, then a countertop, and finally the floor.
"Sidney." Troy reached him, hugged him tightly, and Sidney couldn't understand a word of what he was saying but didn't really care, the soothing sound of Troy's voice was enough. He clung tightly. "Are you okay? More or less?"
Giving a hoarse, shaky laugh, Sidney replied, "More or less, Pop."
More noise came from the doorway, and Sidney looked up to see the twins, the others behind them. They looked at him and then immediately bolted for him. "Sidney! Are you okay?" Brook demanded.
"Just a little banged up," Sidney replied. "I'll be f-fine." But he didn't mind at all when Troy let him go and Brook hugged him tightly. "I'm just glad he didn't get any further." He looked at Colby, but Colby, despite the hand splayed gently across the small of Sidney's back, was looking at the man James and Brady had secured on the far side of the kitchen. Sidney reached out, tugged at his sleeve, and Colby finally turned to look at him. He reached up and kissed Sidney softly.
Nancy set her phone on the counter. "Police should be here soon. What does the piece of shit have to say?"
"Do you know him?" Troy asked.
It was Skylar who replied, "He's a raccoon shifter from New York. I recognize him from one of the adoption hearings. He was really set against it."
"A fucking snake shouldn't be taking care of wolves," the man snarled.
"Shut up or your face will look twice as bad as my son's," James replied.
"Three times," Troy said. He went to the fridge and opened the freezer, returning with an icepack that he pressed gently to Sidney's swollen eye.
Only then did Sidney really notice how much it fucking hurt. Ugh, everything hurt and he was starting to feel a little fuzzy around the edges.
Troy pressed another one to his swollen lip. "Go sit down, keep the ice on those wounds."
Brook and Colby hauled him away before Sidney could reply, but he wasn't terribly inclined to complain when he wound up on Brook's lap with Colby right next to them.
The man glared at them. "Perverted fuck—" He doubled over, struggling to breathe, from the fist that James had slammed into his gut. When he could finally speak again, he said, "This is assault."
"You beat up my son, and the deputy likely headed here now? His sister is Sidney's mother. So congrats, the cops are going to take this very personally. Nevermind I'm chief of this flock and therefore in charge of most of the town. You're officially fucked, so you might want to start thinking hard about what you can offer in exchange for being a little less fucked."
The man just sneered. "Yeah, whatever. I may be fucked here, but at the end of the day, who's going to care about a perverted duck fucking a couple of nasty rabbits with no concept of decency."
"I'm pretty sure decency is not hurting people just because you don't agree with their lifestyle," Colby said quietly.
Nancy looked up sharply, eyes locked on Colby as he stood and slowly crossed the room. "Col …"
If Colby heard her, he gave no indication of it as he headed toward the intruder, pausing only to pull a long carving knife from the block by the stove. Brady stepped out of the way as Colby reached them, but James remained where he was and kept firm hold. "Decency is realizing the world isn't always going to agree with you, asshole. Decency is leaving people the fuck alone unless their behavior is bringing harm to others. We don't hurt anyone; we've spent our entire. Fucking. Lives. Helping people. All we want is to be able to live openly with the ordinary humans, so no one has to be afraid all the time. So maybe more lost shifters have a better chance at a home. And you think wanting to be safe and happy means we deserve to die? Fuck you."
He stepped in close, pressed the edge of the knife to the man's throat just hard enough to draw a thin line of blood. "If you ever come near any of us again, for any reason at all, I'll slit your fucking throat. I'm a nasty, incestuous rabbit. You should better appreciate that means most rules mean jack shit to me. Got it?"
The man didn't reply, but the sweat beading his brow and the visible trembling were answer enough. Colby threw the knife in the sink and fled the kitchen, the back door slamming shut behind him.
Nancy blew out a breath. "Poor kid."
"He cut my fucking throat!"
"I'll cut your fucking throat," Troy snapped. "You're the home invader, dipshit. I'd shut your fucking mouth before we shut you up permanently. Believe me, nobody will investigate very hard, especially after I slap your entire goddamn pack with a lawsuit."
Sidney almost laughed because dude should be scared if Troy was threatening lawsuits. He'd quit being a lawyer forever ago, but he was still really fucking good at it when he wanted to be.
Nancy shoved her phone in her pocket. "I need to go speak with Colby."
"I'll go, Mom," Brook interrupted. "You know how he gets." He urged Sidney to his feet and slid form the chair.
Sidney shook his head and stepped away when Brook tried to make him sit back down. "I'll come, too, unless you don't want…"
Brook broke into a shy, happy smile. "No, you should def come."
"Be careful," James said. "I think this asshole is the only one, but we could be wrong. The cops will be here soon, too. They'll want to speak with you, Sidney."
Sidney nodded. "Yeah, Dad. Just holler when they get here." Brook took his hand and led the way out of the kitchen, across the back yard, and through the dense trees, moving with apparent ease through the dark.
Wasn't quite as easy for Sidney to navigate, especially when every single fucking thing hurting, but he just held tightly to Brook's hand and followed in his steps.
He wasn't the least bit surprised when they wound up at the boathouse. It rested at the edge of the enormous lake like a sentinel. Too bad it wasn't actually.
Inside, it smelled like lake and dust. Colby was sitting in the middle, feet dangling over the edge, not quite touching the water below. Sidney sat down next to him, slid an arm across his back, and oofed slightly when Colby immediately shifted to curl against him and rest his head on Sidney's shoulder. Brook sat on Sidney's other side, reaching out to hold his brother's hands, resting them clasped on Sidney's legs.
"I'm sorry you were hurt because of us," Colby said quietly.
"Dude, my dad spent all afternoon yelling at the flock not to be a bunch of judgmental prudes. I think it's safe to say that for as long as we breathe we're going to be putting up with stupid shit. I mean hell, my dads still deal with shit just because Pop is human. People can fuck off. If they keep messing with us, I will definitely hold while you stab."
Colby let out a sharp bark of laughter. "I didn't mean to go all weird."
> "Nah, it was badass," Sidney replied. "I might be banged up, but I think I come out best in the end. That dude is going away forever, if he doesn't mysteriously disappear first, and wait until his stupid clan gets hit with a lawsuit. Pop loves mowing people down with legalese. He'll make them wish you had just stabbed the guy."
Brook and Colby both laughed. "Yeah, I remember from the way he's helped us over the years with lost shifters cases. Even just advising and consulting, he's dangerous. I know people have offered him seriously nice jobs before, but he never wants to leave you and Uncle Jamie and the flock."
"Yeah, he didn't want to be a busy suit anymore." Sidney squeezed them both, smiling when they kissed his cheeks. "Better to be with family, no matter what."
They didn't reply save to kiss him again, soft and easy, but it burned all the way to his bones in the best way. Sidney's mouth quirked. "If you losers had just come to kiss me goodnight, we could have been safely in my room making out."
"We were about to," Colby said with a sigh. "We saw your note, but then mom called us back because she got a call. They figured out who attacked us at our house—a raccoon and a wolf. We were just about to go tell you, ask if we should wake your dads up, when we heard the ruckus downstairs. Stupid raccoons. They haven't been in this mess at all! They've been nothing but quiet and uncaring like always."
"Guess they were given incentive," Brook said. "We'll sort it out. Right now, I just want to go back to bed."
"We'll talk to the cops when they get here, then go back down to the basement and sleep forever. Or until I can no longer avoid mowing lawns."
Colby mustered a smile for that. "I do wish all this hadn't happened right in the middle of a mess. A little bit of normal would be nice. We could go on dates instead of being on lockdown in our own damned house."
Sidney smiled at hearing them call his house home, but didn't call attention to it. Where everyone was going to live, and a thousand other details of their relationship, could be sorted out later. For the present, they just cuddled together in the boathouse until Troy came to tell them the cops had arrived.