Little Sh*t: Chosen Book 9

by J. D. Light

  "You are going to get dressed, right? I'm not really sure why, but I really don't want anyone to see your sexy body like this." His pretty green eyes were smiling, but the crease between his brows showed just how confused he was by his feelings.

  "That's why I wouldn't let you get out of bed when Parker was still in here. Don't worry, Little Shit. Possessiveness between mates is normal."

  When Carter's eyebrows shot up, I ran through my statement again—something I had to do a lot, unfortunately—trying to figure out what I might have said to surprise him.

  Oh, shit! I hadn't told him we were mates yet.

  His eyes narrowed, and he tried to push out of my arms. "What do you mean mate, Harley? I thought you guys were saving us from becoming mates."

  If I’d thought he'd gone cold at the mention of FBI, I hadn't seen anything yet. Or felt it. A cold wave of dread settled in my stomach as I watched all warmth shut down in him.

  If I weren't a shifter and therefore stronger and more resilient than a normal human, I'd be a little terrified. As it was, I couldn't help but feel like I was trying to hold onto lit dynamite.

  "Not like that, Carter!" I sat him on his feet gently, more than a little nervous that he'd manage to fight his way free and end up tumbling to the floor. "I know that sounded bad after what those men probably said to you, but you have to trust me. The mate that I'm talking about is nothing like what they were talking about."

  "Okay," he said quietly, hands balled into fists at his sides, looking like he was ready to attack me at any second if I didn't say the right thing. "Explain."

  Great. Because me talking has ever done anyone any good.

  Sighing, I rubbed a hand down my face. "Any shifter can mate any other shifter or any human at any time. What those men were talking about was the actual act of mating, which is bonding your bodies to one another.

  "Both male and female chosen were thought to be unable to have children until they mated, but things have changed since the last group came through 250 years ago. Now there are things they can give you to send you into heat if they need you to give birth to children from multiple men."

  His face didn't change, which meant he either wasn't listening, or I hadn't said enough yet.

  "Those men were either going to sell you as a mate to someone, or they were going to sell you as a breeder to a pack, or leap, or pride, or something."

  "For someone who over-shares on a regular basis, you're really missing the mark right now." His words were still cold, but something had eased the tension in his shoulders dramatically.

  "I call you my mate, because you are my actual soulmate. Not every shifter is guaranteed one, but lately we've been having quite the influx of them. Both Foster and Kinsey found theirs…and now me."

  "Fuck, Harley! Get to the damn point! What the hell is different about the kind of mate you are calling me, and what they wanted to do with me? Are you going to try to knock me up, or what?"

  "No! Uh…not that I wouldn't think about it if you wanted kids. I just think I'd be shit as a father!" Sighing, because this whole thing was just a little too complicated for my liking, I plopped down on the edge of the bed. "Though we only call them our mates, it's actually just shortened for soulmate. Meaning the other soul that fits ours so perfectly. You are that for me."

  "Do I get a choice on whether or not you're that for me?"

  "Of course. If you choose not to be with me, then you don't have to be with me." That might have been the hardest statement I have ever had to utter. I had to swallow repeatedly to get the words out. "It will always be your decision to make. On mating me, or on having babies. Anything. But just know that there isn't another being in the world more suited to your needs physically, emotionally, or spiritually than I am."

  Stepping closer, but still out of arm's reach, Cater frowned down at me. "What about you? Am I all of that for you? Or am I going to be the half of the relationship that is constantly following you around like a puppy while you put everything and anything above me?"

  "Of course not," I whispered. "A shifter prays for, and thanks God for, their mate every single day. I would do anything for you. And whether we mate or not, you will be the only one for me from here on out. You will fulfill my every want and need simply by being yourself."

  Taking a deep breath, he let his head drop. "We'll see about that." His voice was no longer cold or angry. It was suddenly sad and dejected. "Things would have been so much easier if you'd have found me a couple years ago."

  "Why then?"

  Frowning, Carter shook his head, already walking to the door. "We'll talk about it after breakfast. Don't blame me if it changes your mind."

  And then he was walking out of the door, still only in his underwear. It was a good thing I could tell nobody was outside the bedroom door, or I might have had to risk my life at his hands to keep him from walking around in front of people like that.

  Chapter Four

  Harley had really saved me some aggravation with that bag full of goodies he'd swiped from my house. Otherwise I'd be sitting around the table looking like the rest of my fellow kidnapped chosen, who were all wearing sweats and t-shirts that were about a hundred times too big for them.

  We'd answered questions while we ate. Even Ava spoke a few times, and I hadn't heard her say a single word since the day they tossed her in the room with the rest of us about three weeks ago.

  Strangely, Harley hadn't spoken a word. I would have been worried I'd hurt him or offended him in some way, if it weren't for the fact that he'd pulled my chair closer to his when he'd sat down next to me at the table. And on more than one occasion, he'd turned to say something to me, only to clamp his mouth shut and give me a bashful smile.

  "What the fuck is wrong with you?" I asked when he turned yet again, mouth opening like words were actually going to emerge, only for him to glance around the room and snap his mouth shut again. "Why aren't you talking?"

  His eyes were rounded comically when he looked at me, and then Boston, and then me again.

  "He can't talk around the victims." Boston shrugged, his eyes never moving away from the page in front of him. "He doesn't have a filter, so he always manages to say something dumb. You guys have been through enough without him saying something that is going to cause unnecessary pain."

  "What the fuck did you just say?" The fury bubbling up through my chest and out into my body was something I hadn't experienced in a long time. Aside from when I'd gotten a little miffed at Harley earlier.

  I suddenly remembered what it was like to be offended on someone else's behalf. I honestly couldn't give a shit what this asshole said or thought about me. But this was fucking Harley. His colleague. The man I hoped would be able to look beyond my past so we could build a life together.

  Boston's eyes snapped to mine, surprise evident

  Harley sighed beside me. "It's okay, Carter. He's right. I would end up saying something stupid that might cause more harm than good."

  "Are you kidding me? That fuck-face just did to you exactly what he's so worried you're going to do to us. He didn't subtly say something about how you just don't know how to talk to people who have been through something like this," I growled, feeling my heart thrumming in my neck, my blood pressure rising fast. "He just fucking said you'd say something dumb. He didn't seem too worried about your fucking feelings."

  I stood, planting my hands on the table, and leaned in Boston's direction. "I don't give a flying fuck what he says to us. If he has something to say, he's going to open his fucking mouth and say it. And if I hear you call my man dumb again, I'll happily kill you in your sleep.

  "At least when Harley says something offensive, he feels bad. You just sit there like some kind of self-important prick and say whatever the fuck you want. You don't give a shit if you offend one of the nicest guys you are ever going to meet. If you think you are somehow better than him because you save your rude-ass behavior for him, then you've lost your fucking mind." I narrowed my eyes until my
entire focus was on the stunned, black-haired man. "You may not have offended Harley, but I'm greatly offended. So, maybe you're the one who should shut the fuck up."

  The room was deadly silent when I finally eased back from the table and sat back in my chair. I didn't take my eyes off Boston the entire time. I didn't give a shit if he was a shifter. I'd spent a decent portion of my young life on the street. I knew how dangerous life could be. I also knew how to kill someone and make it look like their fault.

  He wouldn't even be the first.

  Parker was the first to break. With a, "Holy shit! Your face is hilarious," he pointed at Boston, laughing his ass off. Carpenter joined him just before Foster's laugh registered through the phone where he was on speaker.

  Foster had brought his mate, Burke, to Tennessee and they were staying in a hotel in a town about twenty minutes away from the cabin.

  Finally, Boston shut his mouth, crossing his arms while he leaned back against the back of the chair, smirking.

  "Fair enough," he said, finally. "You have a point."

  Everyone was quiet for a moment. It was a bit of an awkward silence, which almost made it better for me.

  "I just wish we could get in on one of these auctions," Foster spoke up over the phone. "I feel like these runners only know what their contacts at these auctions are willing to share with them. Not one of them so far has known where the auction was supposed to be. Said they'd share the location when it was nearly time to meet. We'd have a lot better chance of getting information at one of these things."

  "I know where one of the auctions is going to be."

  The words were so quiet, if I hadn't been seated right next to her, I might not have heard what she said, but all the shifters in the room turned toward her, easily hearing her soft voice.

  "What do you mean, Ava?" I asked, gently putting a hand on the arm where she was practically digging a hole in her skin.

  Glancing down to where my hand was, she seemed momentarily stunned to see the damage she'd caused herself. "The auction," she whispered. "I overheard the men who grabbed me. I don't know if they thought I was too stupid to understand because I'm so quiet, or if they didn't care if I knew, but they have a large group of buyers in New Mexico. Some guy named Linus is having a big event the same day, and he's going to promote the idea of buying a...mate there. The fat one said he was pretty sure it was a cult, but the mean one said he wasn't paid to think and it was just a large gathering of dirty old men."

  I could tell by the looks the shifters were giving each other that this was something big they hadn't already had.

  "You didn't happen to hear anything else those men were talking about that seemed kind of strange, did you?" I wasn't sure how to hint around whether or not she knew about shifters.

  I don't know why I was so protective of this girl, when I was usually kind of an asshole to everyone. Maybe it was the fact that she'd had the type of life I had before my mother died. Maybe I saw a bit of my old self in her with how innocent she seemed.

  I was hoping that someday, she could go back to her old life and that this whole ordeal would be nothing more than a bad memory and not the life-changing catastrophe it could be.

  "Not really. I don't really understand what they mean by mate, but I've decided I just want to go home. I graduate in May. I wonder if I'll be excused for all these absences."

  I smiled, patting her arm. "I bet if you make up the work, you'll be fine."

  "Las Vegas," Marshall said suddenly. "They were talking about some Burns dude wanting the big one in Vegas. It didn't make sense at the time because I didn't realize at first that they were talking about selling people. I thought they might be talking about a show or something because they made it sound like a big performance. But I got confused when Arnold, that's the fat one’s name, said he wasn't sure the product would keep. I think we might have been the product."

  "That makes sense," Foster said over the line. "Oscar is way too showy with his money not to want the whole thing to revolve around him. I was actually expecting something to happen in Vegas."

  "Should we get ahold of Kinsey? The cult is kinda his baby." Parker leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table. "Surely he can tear himself away from his adorable little mate for a few minutes."

  "Don't even think about it, Park," Boston grumbled. "Kinsey deserves a little time off. His family has lived in Terra Mortis for decades, and I think the man has only gone a handful of times. His mate is the perfect excuse."

  "So, we know that the convention in New Mexico is Friday the seventeenth. So they will either have the auction that night, right after, or they will plan it for the next day." Harley's voice rumbled over my skin as he leaned into my space so he could look down the table toward Foster. "I would be willing to bet the next day, since something like that takes a long time to set up, and auctions take forever. How about we give Kinsey a few more days, then we get him up to speed and figure out what we want to do.

  "Until then, everyone needs to study the notes Foster and Ronny made from when they went the last time, and make sure everyone has a shot pin with them just in case they are crazy enough to set off a grenade."

  "A grenade?!" I looked into Harley's eyes when purple snapped in my direction. "What the fuck is a pin going to do if they set off a grenade?"

  Smirking, he leaned the rest of the way into my space, pecking a kiss to my lips. I didn't melt. Because I have control of my body. Seriously!

  "Don't worry, Little Shit. These grenades are more like smoke bombs. They don't actually boom."

  "They do, however, let out a toxic gas that can kill you," Parker supplied helpfully.

  Growling, I glared at Harley.

  "You need to stop hanging around with shifters. You're turning feral." That motherfucker actually smirked at me, like I wasn't close to killing him for thinking about putting himself in a situation where he could be killed. "Relax. That's what the pin is for. It acts just like an EpiPen. If we are exposed to the gas, we just stab ourselves in the chest with one of these bad boys, and it stops our lungs from seizing."

  Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a black object that did, in fact, look just like an ink pin.

  "Fine." But it wasn't fine. It was fucking terrifying.

  How was this my life? Remember the guy you were yesterday when you didn't give a fuck about almost everyone? I miss him.

  "Don't pout, Little Shit. I promise I'll be careful."

  Rolling my eyes, I waved him off, trying to pretend I didn't actually care, but I couldn't keep it up when I saw the worried confusion in his eyes.

  Standing, I grabbed my plate and took it to the sink in the kitchen, needing something to do.

  Was this what it was like to worry about someone? Was this awful feeling of dread churning in my gut what it was like to care enough about someone to actually physically feel like shit at the prospect of something happening to them?

  I didn't fucking like it at all.

  "What's wrong?" Harley's face actually looked pale when I turned to look at him. "Did I fuck up again?"

  Glaring, I pointed a finger at him. "Stop worrying so damn much if you are going to mess up around me. I'm fine."

  Throwing his hands in the air like he was warding off an attack or trying to coax a crazy person down from the ledge, Harley nodded fast. "Okay. So, what's wrong?"

  Sighing, I dropped my wet hands down to my sides. "I haven't ever had to worry about anyone." When all he did was raise his eyebrows, I figured I probably was only making sense in my head. "My mom was young and healthy, and kids don't think to worry about there parents. When she died, it was too late to worry. Other than that, I haven't cared."

  "Okay. And now you're worried about me?" He didn't seem sure, which really bothered me.

  Couldn't he tell how much I cared about him already? It was actually kind of ridiculous. And frankly, it was starting to piss me off.

  Caring was bullshit.

  "Your face is doing that pouting thing agai
n." There was a smile in Harley's voice and a smirk on his face.

  "Shut up. I don't like feeling like this, Claus." I paused, taking a deep breath. "But I also don't want to be without you."

  Pulling me into his arms, he kissed the top of my head. "Nobody likes this part of caring about someone."

  Groaning, because it was starting to feel entirely too mushy for me, I used the back of his shirt to dry my hands.

  Pulling back, Harley faux-glared down at me. "You really are a little shit, you know that?"

  I smiled and shrugged.

  ***

  Pacing Harley's room, I again stopped to press a hand to my stomach, where nervous butterflies were tearing through my insides like pterodactyls.

  I had to tell him when he got back to the room. I couldn't put it off and risk falling more in like with him. It had been less than twenty-four hours, and already I was having a hard time even thinking about living my entire life without him.

  And how fucking disgusting was that.

  "Ugh!" I said to myself as I made another pass by the foot of his bed.

  He'd sent me up to his room after my emotional "episode” in the kitchen, saying he'd be up in a few minutes, but already, that felt like a month ago, and he was still not back. I wasn't sure what had happened to me could actually even qualify as an "episode" to anyone else, but it was the closest I’d ever planned on getting.

  When the door finally opened three years later, I spun to face him, throwing my hands in the air. "Fucking finally!"

  Frowning, Harley looked at me like I'd lost my mind. Maybe I had.

  "It's only been three minutes since I sent you up here, Little Shit. I still had a few things to iron out with Foster."

  "Three minutes?!" I yelled dramatically, throwing my hands in the air again. Why did I keep doing that? "Did I get stuck in a time loop, or something? I've been sitting up here for three hundred and seventy-three years! I died and was reincarnated thirteen times!"