Big Bad Becker: (An Outlier Prophecies Novella) (The Outlier Prophecies)

by Tina Gower

  “Well, stop it.” He turned to Kate. “Make her stop it.”

  “Ali, stop freaking out our company.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Fine.”

  Kate glared at her. “I thought you said you had a date?”

  “I do. I just came over because I forgot the salad.” She passed over a plastic wrapped ceramic bowl. “And to tell you I’d be gone all night.”

  Kate sighed, but took the salad. “Thanks for the food. It smells amazing.”

  The cousin’s grin took up most of her face. She twirled and skipped down the stairs, calling out, “later Kater. Do everything I would do.”

  Kate pulled on his jacket. “Come in, it’s freezing out there.”

  He hadn’t noticed the cold until she pointed it out. Now he could see the slight tendrils of fog coming from her breath.

  He shut the door behind him and she tossed him the remote. “Find something good.”

  He clicked through the channels to check what movies were available for purchase.

  She placed the pan in the oven. “It’s supposed to preheat, but I’m not going to wait.”

  He found an action movie and dimmed the lights. She half-stepped and stumbled on her way to the couch. Her gaze landed on his fingers at the light switch.

  He motioned for the light. “I can turn it back on. I just thought—”

  “No. It’s okay. Really.” She waved away the concern and sat on the far end of the couch from him.

  Technically it was a love seat—although there was no love happening—so even seated at opposite ends there wasn't much space between them. Another person wouldn’t have been able to fit. Ian stretched his arm over the back, while Kate placed her hands in her lap.

  He didn’t care about the movie. Apparently, neither did Kate. She yawned, her eyes drooped, and two minutes later he caught her as she slid onto his shoulder. She slowly lowered into his lap, and he smoothed her hair from her face and checked her breathing. Still alive. Just sleeping.

  He swallowed down what felt like a ball of rubber in this throat, staring straight ahead and thinking of baseball. It didn’t work.

  Finally, he gave up and hit mute on the movie exploding in the background. He traced the line of her eyebrows with his thumb, leaning against the armrest. She had silky skin, high cheeks, and her nose curved up in the slightest slope. Her hair was as silky as its shine promised. At night, he decided, he'd curl behind her and rub his nose along the back of her neck where the downy strands were softest. And her eyelashes were a thick delicate line that seemed as kissable as her mouth. The draw to her was undeniable. He eased into another position so he could lean in closer.

  The rush of heat as he realized what he was thinking hit his chest first and then ran up into his face. Thankfully, she was asleep and wouldn’t be able to guess his thoughts.

  He propped his head on his arm, watching her as she slept. His own eyes got heavier as the smell of eggplant parmesan permeated the room, but it wasn't until the beep of the oven jerked him awake some time later he realized he'd fallen asleep. He wrestled Kate around until he was able to get up and shuffle into the kitchen.

  He pulled out the eggplant and scooped a bit into the dishes she’d set out, along with some salad for each of them. He brought her plate over to the living room and set it in front of her on the coffee table, then nudged her arm until she sniffed awake.

  “I’m sorry. Is the movie over?” Her brows furrowed together at the meal in front of her. “Oh.” She ate a few bites, keeping her eyes on her plate.

  Ian shoveled his into his mouth, not wanting to think too closely about watching her sleep. He finished first and tip-toed backward into the kitchen, not wanting to disturb this reality where they existed on the same plane for a moment. Where they ate dinner in silence. Where she was still his pack.

  He rinsed his plate and placed it into the dishwasher, covered the leftovers and put those away, too. She rose from the couch and scraped her half-eaten meal into the trash. He might possibly have given her too much; he hadn't really taken into account that she wasn’t a wolf and didn’t need as many calories. She yawned, and he gently took her plate and rinsed it. She stood next to him at the counter, staring blankly.

  Her head fell onto his arm. “Tired. Bed.”

  “Right.” He caught her before she slumped to the ground. “How long has it been exactly since you slept a full night?”

  “When did Jack go into the hospital?”

  A week. Gods. No wonder. He scooped her into his arms but she shook her head, brow furrowed.

  “I can walk.”

  When he set her down, she grabbed pajama bottoms and a tank top from a closet, then went for the bathroom and shut the door. Ian sat on her bed and twiddled his thumbs until, unable to contain the urge, he hurried into the living room to turn off all the lights and look out of every window. Nobody down there. Yet he had that twisting in his stomach that said something was. He lifted the window a fraction, listening. Nothing. He sniffed. Nothing.

  “Becker?”

  He shut the window. Paced a few more times before giving in to Kate.

  Her eyes were closed, as if she’d already fallen back to sleep, but her breathing was shallow. He crawled over her, hesitating for a minute, hovering over the top of her body. It made him hot in all the wrong places. He reversed direction. This was a bad idea. Really bad.

  She caught his arm. “I can’t sleep without you. Please.”

  “Okay, don’t worry.” He shimmied out of his jacket and out of his shirt. Leaving his undershirt on, he lowered himself into the space between the wall and her. He could keep an eye on the window from that point. “What time do you wake up?”

  “Six.”

  It being six P.M. now, she’d get a good twelve hours. That might be enough to set her back on track for tomorrow.

  He set his phone for five.

  She turned her body so her front lined up with his. He bit his lip. Then she snuggled into his chest, and he held back an audible moan. If his body could have groaned with relief it would have. Pack started doing its thing, easing away all tension and tightness. His anger and anxiety dissipated from his neurons like honey dissolving in hot tea.

  It was everything he needed and didn’t need all at once. As an afterthought, he sent a text to Lipski.

  I’m going to ask the captain to put some extra men over by the bus depot. I’m picking something up related to that case over here.

  Lipski texted back. Kid, get some sleep and go home. I’ll call the captain after I clean up from dinner.

  Thanks.

  He didn’t like lying to Hank, but in a way it wasn’t fully fabricated. He had a hunch the leftovers from Liza Hamilton would be around as soon as they figured out where Kate lived. He wanted to be ready for them. He also wanted an excuse to be on this side of town a lot if anyone asked.

  Kate’s breath changed, heavy with sleep. He brought his arm around her, now able to fully let go and sleep too.

  She wiggled closer. “You’ll come tomorrow night?”

  “Yeah.” He combed her hair back. “I work most nights, though.”

  “Just come when you’re done with your shift.” And with that she stretched and he knew she was asleep when one of her hands traveled to his waist.

  He gently set it higher. She wouldn’t have done that if she were awake. She didn’t want a relationship. He wouldn’t let her betray herself, even in sleep.

  Chapter 7

  Ian crawled into Kate's bed most nights for the rest of the week, convincing himself that he could protect her best if he was there to keep an eye on things. He’d come through the window so he wouldn’t have to disturb her late at night to invite him through the door. She’d wake for a minute, lift the sheet, and scoot to make room for him, turning her back to his front. Some nights she’d be dead asleep and he’d crawl behind her, careful not to bump her. He’d leave a few hours later, wondering if she even knew he was there. On some of those nights he could feel h
er become aware of him just as he’d drift to sleep. She’d tuck herself closer and sigh, or murmur, “It’s you. Thank gods.”

  “You got another werewolf hiding around here?”

  “One is plenty.”

  They’d see each other at work. He’d nod. She’d wave as though she were half paying attention to him, but her body would turn toward his and as he left her eyes would flicker up and meet his gaze. He’d force himself to leave without speaking to her. Except he missed speaking to her. He was tempted to nudge her awake some nights just to hear about her work. He’d even settle for a lesson on conditional probability or exponents or what the hells please excuse my dear aunt sally meant.

  Parenthesis.

  Exponents.

  Multiplication.

  Division.

  Addition.

  Subtraction.

  The order of operations. He’d asked her two nights later. He still didn’t know what it meant, but her eyes lit up when she talked about math, so he wasn’t really asking for knowledge reasons.

  Each time he saw her it was like holding onto a slippery fish. Or several fish at once. Sometimes she was the fish, wiggling out of his reach. Sometimes it was his grasp on right and wrong. Sometimes his sanity, swimming away. He had to tell her he thought she was in danger, but as the days went by he grew more and more afraid that the danger only manifested in his own imagination.

  He got possessive when he saw her with her coworkers. She didn’t deserve that kind of behavior, so he kept it in check. He’d zone out at work and daydream her head tucked under his chin. He’d stay in her bed for five minutes more each night. One time he caught himself before he turned off her alarm—he’d nearly risked her missing work just to keep her longer in the queen-sized space they shared. He could see the gold glow of his eyes reflecting off the white sheets when he’d wake. It scared him to think of what that meant, but he couldn’t stop. She’d become his drug, and he was a complete addict.

  He had to stop it. This was unfair to her. But he’d tell himself tomorrow. He’d tell her tomorrow.

  Whenever a day shift became available he’d switch a night shift for it so he’d have a full night of pack with Kate.

  His captain noticed the change, complimenting Ian on his calm demeanor and clear thinking. Told him to keep up whatever he’d been doing.

  His heart sank. He’d gained this reprieve dishonorably.

  “Something you want to tell me?” Lipski asked.

  Ian rubbed his shoulder, thinking. He’d dropped by on his way to Accidental. Part hoping he could share his concerns and part knowing he couldn’t risk the arrangement getting out because of the position it put Kate in at work.

  “No.”

  “You not nocturnal anymore? What are all these day shifts? We’ve barely had a shift together.” Lipski actually look a bit hurt by the development.

  “Prepping for when you make detective and I’m left alone on the beat.”

  “You’ll make detective too. We’re a team.”

  Ian shook his head. He’d failed the last several exams.

  “You think of signing up for an exam now that your head is on straight?”

  He had. He’d decided to take it again in a couple weeks—as long as things stayed stable with Kate, he might have the concentration by then for a test. The more established his pack became, the more he regained normal sensory input. He could hold more than one thing at a time in his brain. He'd even read the test prep material and the words hadn’t bounced around the page on him.

  But he didn’t acknowledge that to Lipski. “Thinking about it.” He set his mug down on Hank’s kitchen counter. “Thanks for the coffee. I need to drop these off.” He held up the files he’d reviewed. Picked them up this morning when Kate got to work. He hadn’t been checking to see if she’d gotten there safely from the bus.

  Okay, he was a liar.

  She’d be going on lunch around noon and he wanted to happen to be there. Today he was going to ask her to eat lunch with him. Friends. Friends had lunch. He’d decided his protective instincts were pack bonding mixed with his history and the memory of his pack’s death. His infatuation with her was because she was cute. He did have eyes.

  Her attraction to him was obvious, but she didn’t act on it—a lot of people were physically attracted to others and didn’t pursue it. Just because he was physically attracted to her didn’t mean he should act on it, either. He liked their arrangement the way it was. It worked. And if he asked her if she felt the same and she didn’t, he’d mess it up. If he tipped the scales in that direction at all he risked changing the dynamic. He risked losing his pack. If she showed interest in a romantic relationship, maybe…

  He shut that down. She wouldn’t want to put her job at risk. She’d never see him as a possibility. She would only be available as pack. And she wouldn’t stay available for him that way forever, either. He wasn’t dumb. He’d quietly scoot away if she ever started dating. Last thing he wanted to do was complicate her life more than he already had.

  His stomach churned, gnawing on bitter coffee and a banana—the only thing he’d put in it all day. He rinsed his cup and placed it in Lipski’s dishwasher.

  “All right, kid. It sounds like Angela's home. You got a shift later?”

  He could hear her outside, opening the trunk. He headed for the door. “Late afternoon. I get off before midnight.” It was also a weekend, so he’d be with Kate all night. Maybe he’d let himself stay until she woke up.

  Angela came through the door in her workout gear, hauling two sacks of groceries. She gave her sacks to Ian when he met her at the door. “Oh, hey thanks. Useful having a husband and a friend who can hear so well. I picked up some spaghetti squash for dinner. There are more in the trunk.”

  Lipski followed him out. “I got this, Beck. Why don’t you go ahead and get those files to Accidental.” His eyes twinkled when he mentioned Ian’s destination.

  Ian decided to believe it was because Lipski's wife was home and they’d be alone without kids, not that he was becoming savvy to the reason he'd been pouring himself into his liaison assignment.

  He left before he could bite out an angry response. One more way Kate’s offer of pack had helped him. He could ignore the subtle jabs that didn’t matter.

  He made it downtown in easy time, traffic being light this late in the morning. He parked in the garage and cruised past the security check point. Getting through was easy, because the guard had a book and didn’t really look up, just pushed the button for the security gate to open.

  Ian took two steps, but no, he couldn’t let that mistake go. He checked the man’s name tag. “Stevens, is it? I’ll be sure to mention this when the commissioner asks me about my assessment of security in the Predictions building.”

  The man covered his name tag. “What? Is there a problem?”

  “Yeah. A problem with security. I didn’t even pull my badge out.”

  “But I seen you around. You come here all the time. You’re one of the liaisons, right?”

  “I could have been anyone. I could have been fired from work and be coming by after going on a killing spree. Being a liaison does not give me a pass. Being a cop does not give me a pass. You understanding me?”

  “Check your badge. Yes, sir.”

  “Not just my badge. Everyone’s badge. All the time. Be sure it’s still valid. Check the probabilities every morning for increased threat levels. Don’t use them as a coaster.” He flicked the morning printout under the man’s non-compostable to-go coffee cup. Gods, it had to be non-compostable. This guy had it coming. “Tell everyone else assigned to this building.”

  “Yes. Yes, sir.” His hand shook as he placed his bookmark in his book and set it on a shelf by his knees. “You won’t be filing a complaint, right? If I do as you say?”

  Ian didn’t answer. He kept his gaze on the man as he backward walked to the elevators, kept staring as he waited for the ding. He could smell the man’s fear increasing with each second
. Good. Fear meant he’d remember.

  Ian dropped the simmering anger as soon as he entered the elevator. The ability to control his emotions and draw on them effectively in the moment. Another pack benefit.

  He dropped off his green folder files with Yang. His eyes on Kate’s office, door shut, he went to the files and thought about his mode of attack. He’d only thought this far into the plan. Go to Kate’s office. Stare at her.

  He slid out the file waiting for him in his box. That cubby was like a never ending filing system. Like chopping off the head of Hydra—consult on one, seven more appeared. At least it was just one this time. He glanced down at the thing. Kate’s name appeared at the bottom of the info sheet. He snapped the thing shut and with a bit of a skip in his step was glad for the excuse to talk to her.

  Her whole office was surrounded by glass windows, but he brushed off the stab of worry that her exposure spilled through him. Her office was in the back, and the windows would give her warning if anyone were to come in with aggressive intentions. Also, Kate hadn’t gotten her own name plate yet. It incorrectly identified her as Michelle Kitman—the previous occupant of the office. That would work to her advantage if anyone came around looking for her. At least her office door wouldn’t be a bright flag for the assailant, saying ‘here she is!’

  He tapped on her door, reassuring himself that she’d have time to escape or evade. If she’d even look up from her computer when someone knocked on her door, that is.

  She typed furiously on her keyboard, hair in an untidy bun. After sparing an annoyed glance at the noise, she did a double-take, snapped her computer shut and kicked back her chair, then threw her door open.

  “Becker?” She looked past him to her boss’s door, then down the stubby hall to the main office. “Can I help you with anything, officer?”

  “Officer, is it?” He kept his voice light, humorous, and stepped forward.

  She stepped back, letting him through. “What are you doing?” She hissed under her breath, her eyes going wide.

  He frowned. He hadn't been expecting her to react this way. Hadn’t she placed the file in the cubby as a sign that she wanted to talk? “You have a case you want to go over with me.”