by Paige Tyler
Bree almost laughed at the exaggeration. Diego had broad shoulders, but he certainly wasn’t short and misshapen, and definitely not ugly. Like she’d said, while these other three guys were attractive, they couldn’t hold a candle to Diego. Chocolate-brown eyes she could get lost in. Silky dark hair she wanted to run her fingers through. And biceps she was sure she couldn’t get her hand around. She had a real thing for well-muscled arms.
When Brandon still looked baffled, Diego apparently decided to take pity on him because he nodded. “Yeah, they’re like me. Like us, actually. Though we both have a better sense of humor. It’s not their fault. They’re clueless when it comes to knowing what’s funny and what isn’t.”
His friends all chuckled at that as Trey held out Bree’s cell phone. “I think this is yours.”
“It is! Thank you.” She slid it in her purse with a smile. “I forgot all about it.”
Which was crazy, considering she always had it with her. Then again, a lot had happened today.
“Could you tell Mike I’m bringing Bree and Brandon to the compound so we can talk to Gage?” Diego asked. “I’ll probably need you to cover for me when Internal Affairs shows up, too.”
Trey nodded. “Will do. I’ll talk to Mike as soon as he’s done with the chief. IA, too. But after listening to some of the statements from the people in the diner, I can’t imagine Internal Affairs trying to jack you up over this. You did everything you could to talk that guy down.”
From the expression on Diego’s face, it didn’t seem like he was buying that last part. He didn’t say anything, though. Instead, he turned to her and Brandon. “You two ready to get out of here?”
Bree nodded. “Is it okay if we take my car? It’s parked in the garage two blocks over.”
“That’s fine,” Diego said, falling into step beside her and Brandon. “Better than trying to get through the crowds with one of the SWAT SUVs for sure.”
A few people took Diego’s picture as they moved through the crowd behind the crime-scene tape, and Bree knew she and Brandon would be in more than a few of them. Hopefully, they wouldn’t show up on someone’s Facebook or Instagram page. Or worse, one of the media outlets.
Bree was still imagining what her boss at the insurance company would say about one of his investigators being involved in a hostage situation, when she heard a voice that stopped her cold. Out the corner of her eye, she saw Brandon stiffen.
“Bree! Brandon! I’m so relieved you’re okay!”
She turned to see her ex-husband pushing his way through the crowd to get to them. For a moment, Bree thought he was going to hug her, but the look on her face must have changed his mind because he stopped in front of them instead. Thank God. She really wasn’t in a mood to deal with him and his games today.
“Dave, Officer Diego Martinez, Dallas SWAT,” she said. “This is my ex-husband, Dave Cowell.”
Dave’s hazel eyes narrowed as he sized up Diego, and Bree braced herself. Saying he was possessive was an understatement. He’d always hated when other men looked her way, much less talked to her, and he didn’t mind letting them know it. That’s what had put him in prison.
But instead of going ballistic like usual, he extended his hand to Diego. “Officer.”
While he hadn’t gone into a jealous rage, there was no mistaking the disdain in Dave’s tone. And from the way he was trying to crush Diego’s hand as they shook, it was obvious there was some kind of testosterone-laden display going on. Diego didn’t seem to notice.
“Mr. Cowell,” he said.
With the pleasantries out of the way—if you could call them that—Dave turned his attention back to her. Even though he was as tall as Diego, he wasn’t nearly as muscular. And while she’d fallen for those clean-cut good looks and that Ivy League charm when she was eighteen, they’d stopped doing anything for her a long time ago.
“What are you doing here, Dave?” She folded her arms. “And don’t tell me you just happened to be in the area.”
“No, I wasn’t in the area.” He regarded her thoughtfully, his expression impossible to read. “I heard on the radio there was a hostage situation at the diner and remembered we used to come here together when Brandon was little. And…I can’t explain it, but I got a feeling you were both in danger. Something made me drive down here to make sure you were safe. Good thing I did because the first thing I saw when I got here was you and Brandon coming out of the diner and being taken to an ambulance.”
Bree had to bite her tongue to keep from calling BS on that entire lame-ass explanation. Her ex had always been a vain, narcissistic man who assumed anything he said would be accepted without comment. The thought she wouldn’t believe what he was saying likely never entered his mind.
Dave had always been erratic, but his stay in prison had made it worse. Since he’d gotten out, most of the time he didn’t seem to remember he had an ex-wife or a son—which was perfectly fine with her. Other times, he’d show up and act like she and Brandon were precious to him. He never mentioned he’d been absent from their lives. He acted as though it had simply been a weekend business trip, not a five-year prison sentence. Bree didn’t buy his act and knew Brandon didn’t, either.
Currently, Dave worked in the downtown financial district near the Trinity River. If he was all the way over here in north Lochwood, it was more likely because he’d been stalking them than anything else. There was no way he could’ve gotten here this quickly otherwise.
“Thank you for worrying about us, but there was no need,” she said. “We have Officer Martinez to thank for saving our lives.”
Dave’s gaze went to Diego, his expression calculating. After a moment, his mouth curved into a duplicitous smile. “Then it looks like I owe you a huge debt of gratitude. Bree and my son are the most important people in the world to me. I don’t know what I would have done if I’d lost them.”
“I was just doing my job,” Diego said. “The real credit should go to Bree and Brandon. They risked their lives to help two DPD officers. They were amazing.”
Bree was stunned at how thrilled she got at Diego’s words. It was silly, of course. She and Brandon had done nothing more than press some dish towels to the officers’ wounds, desperate to stop the bleeding. They’d been successful more from luck than skill. Still, it made her stomach do funny little cartwheels to know Diego had seen their efforts and appreciated them.
“It’s nice to know that someone else thinks as highly of Bree and Brandon as I do,” Dave said with a nod, the fake smile disappearing. “They’ve been through a lot today, so if you’ll excuse us, I’ll take them home. Thanks again for your help.”
Like hell he was taking them home, Bree thought as Brandon tensed beside her. Once again, Dave seemed to have forgotten they were divorced—and had been for years.
Diego must have picked up on the sudden tension, because before she could say anything, he stepped a little in front of her and Brandon like he’d done earlier, his big body forming a shield between them and her ex.
“That’s not going to be an option at the moment, Mr. Cowell,” he said firmly, and from where she stood, Bree knew his eyes were locked on Dave’s. “Bree and Brandon both played a key role in the events that occurred in the diner. Getting their statements while their memories are still fresh is critical. We were on our way to the police station when you stopped us.”
Diego’s tone left no doubt in Bree’s mind that she and Brandon would be leaving with him, regardless of what Dave thought about the subject. An all-too-familiar flash of anger entered her ex-husband’s eyes and Bree held her breath, sure the idiot was actually going to try to fight Diego right there in the middle of a street filled with witnesses—and other cops.
Bree knew it was horrible, but she almost wished Dave would do something that stupid. She was certain Diego could deal with anything her jerk of an ex threw at him. She immediately chided herself,
hating the thought of Brandon seeing something like that. There was no love lost between him and his father, but her son had been through enough because of Dave’s anger-management issues.
To her surprise, Dave took a step back. She was even more stunned when the fury on his face disappeared to be replaced by curiosity.
“Why do you need their statements?” he asked in a tone that was way too calm and even for the man Bree knew. “I thought the gunman in the diner killed himself. Why would anyone care enough to bother with statements?”
“Who said anything about the gunman killing himself?” Diego asked from where he still stood in front of them.
Dave shrugged. “Everyone’s talking about it.”
Diego seemed to consider that a moment before he nodded. “You probably shouldn’t believe everything you hear. Regardless, we still need their statements. Unless you have a problem with that?”
Her ex-husband regarded Diego for a moment before giving him a smile. “Of course not, Officer. I wouldn’t dream of causing a problem.” Leaning to the side to see around Diego better, he caught Bree’s eye. “I’ll call you later to make sure you got home okay, babe.”
As Dave turned and walked away, a shiver of unease slid down Bree’s spine. He continued to creep her out all these years after their divorce. He’d treated her like a piece of property when they’d been married and still did. The controlling jerk couldn’t seem to get it through his thick head that she wanted nothing to do with him and hadn’t for a long time.
Then Diego’s big, warm hand was on her arm and the dread she felt immediately faded away. “You ready to get out of here?”
She glanced at Brandon, who eagerly nodded.
“Definitely,” she said.
Chapter 3
After what the kid had gone through that morning, Diego expected Brandon to be quiet during the drive across town to the SWAT compound. Instead, he talked from the time they’d left the parking garage until Diego pulled Bree’s SUV into the visitor parking lot across the street from the fenced-in facility. Brandon had asked a few general questions about being a werewolf, like if they turned every time there was a full moon—Hollywood was doing the werewolf community no favors with that crap—but mostly it had been a nonstop monologue on everything he’d experienced over the past month and a half since going through his change.
Brandon also admitted how scared he’d been during the hostage situation that his claws and fangs would come out and someone at the diner would see them. In his teenage mind, being called a freak would be the worst thing ever.
But as frightened as Brandon had been for himself, he’d been more concerned for Bree. The thought of the crowd turning on her for being the mother of a monster had terrified him. The words had brought tears to Bree’s eyes and done a number on Diego as well. The thought of someone going after either of them made his inner wolf’s fangs and claws come out.
He led Bree and Brandon through the gates of the compound and headed for the admin building, where the commander of the SWAT team and the alpha of their pack of alphas, Gage Dixon, was waiting for them. If anyone could help a werewolf still going through puberty, it’d be Gage. The man was a Jedi master when it came to dealing with bizarre crap like this.
They were barely halfway across the compound when Brandon paused, instinctively turning into the breeze, his nose twitching as he took in the many scents around him. Diego almost laughed both at the intense expression on the kid’s face and the baffled one on Bree’s.
“What’s that I’m smelling?” Brandon asked, turning his nose this way and that curiously. “I smelled it earlier at the diner, but it’s a lot stronger here.”
Diego grinned when he caught Bree sniffing the air, trying to figure out what her son was smelling when he knew for a fact she couldn’t smell anything.
“You’re smelling the other werewolves in the compound,” Diego told him. “There were only five of us at the diner this morning. This place serves as a second home for the eighteen alpha werewolves in my SWAT pack. Not to mention the other werewolves that frequently hang out here. It’s not surprising you’re picking up the scent even if you didn’t have a clue what you were smelling yet.”
“Alpha werewolves?” Brandon considered that. “Does that mean there are other kinds of werewolves? Am I an alpha, too?”
“Wait a minute,” Bree said, holding up her hand. “Did you actually use the word ‘pack’ to describe you and the other members of the SWAT team? As in a pack of wolves? Is that how you see yourselves?”
“Will I be able to join your pack?” Brandon jumped in before Diego could answer, practically bouncing up and down in excitement. “Can I be on the SWAT team, too?”
Bree threw Diego a look of utter panic, her dark eyes silently begging him to say something to stop her kid from starting down this path. Diego opened his mouth to say something wise and insightful only to close it again when he realized he had absolutely no idea how to start. He considered himself above average when it came to giving advice, but right then, with Brandon desperately wanting answers to all his questions, he simply didn’t know what to say.
Hopefully, Gage would.
“Let’s put a hold on the really complicated questions until we get inside,” Diego finally said, glancing over his shoulder to catch Bree’s eye and give her a little nod of understanding. “There’s someone I want you to meet who will be able to explain all of this to you better than I ever could.”
Brandon looked like he didn’t want to wait that long but nodded anyway.
When they got to the admin building, Diego held open the door for them. His gaze automatically locked on Bree’s butt as she moved ahead of him. After the day she’d had, he felt bad about looking at her that way, but his inner wolf seemed to have a mind of its own and simply wouldn’t be denied. And yeah, his inner wolf definitely liked what it saw. Bree might be wearing a simple pair of jeans and a T-shirt, but she made them look damn good. Snug enough to show off her feminine curves, making the view from behind spectacular.
At the sight of the tall, blond woman in Gage’s office, he forced his mind off the image of Bree’s incredible body and back to the subject of their new teenage werewolf. Diego had called Gage on the drive over to give him a heads-up about bringing in a young beta who was still going through his change. And Gage had called the one alpha werewolf they knew who had a whole pack of them.
That was some next-level thinking right there and one hell of a brilliant idea.
Jayna was the wife and soul mate of Diego’s teammate, Eric Becker. She was also one of the only werewolves Diego had ever heard of who started out as a beta, then went through a second change to become an alpha to take over for the one who’d done a crappy job of protecting her pack. Jayna had taken over the pack, making it her own. Even though she and Becker were a couple, it was still her pack. Becker was essentially a co-alpha. Unique, for sure, but it seemed to work for them.
Diego led Bree and Brandon through the empty bullpen and into Gage’s office. When he made the introductions, mentioning Gage and Jayna were also alphas, Bree and Brandon both nervously shook hands with them. That wasn’t surprising. Tall and muscular with dark hair and intense dark eyes, Gage could sometimes be intimidating. As for Jayna, she had a presence about her that you only saw with female alphas.
“Let’s sit,” Gage suggested, giving them a smile and motioning toward the small conference table to one side of his office. “From what Diego told me on the phone, I get the feeling things have been pretty crazy for you two lately.”
Bree laughed as she sat between Diego and Brandon. It was a beautiful sound that made Diego’s inner wolf sit up and take notice.
“‘Crazy’ would be a bit of an understatement,” she said, glancing at her son, a mix of worry and love on her face. “Like I told Diego, when these strange things started happening to Brandon after he’d been shot, I thought he w
as using drugs.”
“Mom!” Brandon groaned, a hand coming up to cover his face in embarrassment, but not before Diego saw him flush. It would have been cute if the subject wasn’t so scary. The thought of the kid getting shot made his stomach twist up in knots.
“Don’t ‘mom’ me,” Bree said, her lips curving into a smile. “All I knew was that something was going on with you. Something that was making you act different, and since you wouldn’t talk to me about it, what else was I supposed to think? It makes sense it would be drugs.” The smile faded and her eyes glistened with tears. “I was scared I was going to lose you, honey.”
The pain in those words about ripped Diego’s heart right out of his chest. Crap, he could barely breathe. He swallowed hard and fought through it. Why wasn’t he maintaining his usual professional demeanor in this situation?
“But you weren’t taking drugs,” Bree said softly. “You were simply turning into a werewolf. I guess I had no reason to worry. Can’t believe I didn’t think of that myself,” she added with a strangled laugh.
When Brandon looked chagrined at that, Diego assumed it was because he felt bad about hiding the werewolf stuff from his mother, but his gut told him there was more to it than that. He wanted to ask what the deal was, but bringing it up in front of everyone wouldn’t be a good idea.
“I think most parents would have assumed the same,” Jayna said gently. “The possibility that their son was becoming a werewolf isn’t something most people would ever think to worry about.”
Bree snorted, a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob. “Yet, here we are. Which I suppose begs the question—how did this happen? Diego told me Brandon’s a werewolf, and since he showed us his claws and fangs, I guess that means he’s one, too. He told us that the other members of his…pack…are alpha werewolves like the three of you. He made it sound so simple, but he never said how any of this is possible. I mean, if Brandon had been bitten by a werewolf, wouldn’t I know? Even if he obviously tells me nothing about what’s going on in his life, am I really that clueless about what’s been happening to my son?”