Trials, Track, and Tribulations [Spirit of Sage 7] (Siren Publishing Menage Amour ManLove)

by Jools Louise

  “There are a lot of shops opening up around here,” Douglas said quietly. “I don’t need the help here, really, but I can ask around. Why don’t we see if Murphy can work some magic with Geoff? He’s pretty good at helping with PTSD. He’s our resident shrink.”

  “I’d be grateful,” the guy replied, obviously relieved. “We were staying at the ranch, in the tent city there, but with Geoff getting all hot and bothered again, we had to leave.”

  “What’s your name?” Cracker asked gently. “Can’t find you work if we don’t know who you are, can we?”

  “Everyone just calls me Ghost,” the man said.

  “Ghost?” Cracker asked, sounding startled.

  “Cool name,” Douglas replied. “I’m Douglas. This is my mate, Cracker, the little fuzz butt is Candy, and the snow leopard who probably still has his eye on Geoff’s throat is John. Welcome to Sage.”

  Ghost laughed at that. “Yeah, really.” He paused for a second. “Is John always like this?” he asked warily.

  “Like what?” Douglas asked airily. “Laid-back, sarcastic, prone to bursts of violence?”

  “Er, I was meaning the fact that he’s sniffing at Geoff, a lot,” Ghost retorted wryly.

  “What are you doing?” Cracker asked John curiously. “It looks as though he might be familiar to you. Don’t recognize him, do you?”

  There was a gentle chuff, then a tiny snarl, then a low growl. Douglas had no idea what that meant.

  “John, go get into some clothes, buddy, then we can talk. Cracker can keep an eye on Geoff. I’ll call Pace.”

  “What the hell?” Ryder had arrived. Douglas raised his face to the ceiling in frustration. Now he’d have to explain it again.

  “Don’t ask,” Cracker said dryly. “Just know that nothing much happened, and John is going to explain to us who he thinks this guy is.”

  “Did he just piss on the floor of your sweets shop?” Ryder asked, sounding a little disgusted.

  “I’ll help to clear it up,” Ghost said quickly. “Geoff’s having a bad day, that’s all.”

  “A bad day?” Ryder asked, then gave a low growl. “Isn’t that the guy we removed from camp a few days ago after he attacked Douglas?”

  “Yeah,” Douglas cut in, trying to prevent any more violence. “He suffers from PTSD, had a run-in with a hyena, hates shifters, and thought Candy here needed to be saved from me.”

  “So what’s he doing in here, pissing on the floor?”

  “Candy shifted, bit him, and then John gave him the full show, for good measure,” Cracker replied, laughing when Ryder gave a grunt.

  “It was pretty cool,” Ghost said. “Except for the part where Geoff grabbed the little girl. That was a little scary.”

  Candy shifted suddenly, and Douglas fumbled as he held her naked body in human form for the first time. He blushed furiously and heard Cracker chuckle at his consternation. “Could someone get this little fuzz butt something to wear?” Douglas pleaded.

  “Here, use this,” Cracker drawled and handed Douglas his shirt, which he helped wrap around Candy, preserving her modesty. The kid had no inhibitions whatsoever.

  “I bit the nasty man,” Candy said, and laughed. “He didn’t taste so nice, though. Sort of sour and not like my pineapple drops at all. Where are my pineapple drops?”

  Cracker sighed. “Douglas, you’d better bag up some more for Miss Mischief here,” he said. “I don’t think the first ones are edible now. They fell all over the floor.”

  “Here, you take the minx, and I’ll get her sweets,” Douglas said, handing Candy over to his mate. Candy giggled suddenly, and Douglas figured his mate was tickling her.

  Douglas turned, fingering the shelf with the jars of sweets, and found the pineapple drops again. Punching in the amount he wanted, he placed a new bag beneath the outlet chute, pushed the release button, then felt the little sugary drops tumble into the bag.

  “Here you go, Candy,” he said, handing over the bag.

  “I think I’d like to go home, now,” she said, her voice trembling.

  “How about I take you over to the café,” Cracker suggested. “Murray and Blue and the others are all over there right now, having smoothies with Cameron.”

  “I’d really like a smoothie,” she replied sweetly.

  “I’ll be back in a minute,” Cracker said, and departed.

  “So, how about you tell me what you’re really doing in town, Ghost,” Ryder said the moment the other two left, his tone hard as nails. Douglas tilted his head, not liking the change in mood. What had Ryder seen that the others had missed?

  Ghost cleared his throat, then gave a wry chuckle. “Okay, so Geoff and I did serve together. Ten years ago. And he does suffer from PTSD. That’s the truth. I may have fudged the rest. I hooked up with him a little while ago, trying to get closer to the group he’s linked to. A paramilitary organization which is growing in strength and numbers, who don’t like shifters.”

  “And you were just going to let him stay around, get work, endanger everyone in Sage?” Ryder asked furiously.

  “No,” Ghost retorted sharply. “I was going to get him cleaned up, get him sober, and then find out what the fuck he thinks he’s doing getting involved with those idiots. Geoff was attacked, and he lost his wife and baby daughter, many years ago when a group of shifters came to his home. They beat him up, left him for dead, and when he regained consciousness, he woke up to his dead family having been ripped apart by the bastards.”

  “Do you know who they were?” Douglas asked, feeling sick that such a thing had happened, and by shifters to humans.

  “I believe you may know one of them,” Ghost said grimly. “The recently deceased Purdy.”

  “Who are you?” Ryder asked in frustration.

  “Someone who should be dead, by rights,” John said as he came back into the store. “Geoff here is someone I met a while back, while deployed in the Middle East. He was a stand-out soldier. I didn’t recognize him at first—he’s changed a lot, and not for the better. He won three Purple Hearts for bravery and saved my ass a couple of times. He saved Ghost, too. He’s a hero. This isn’t like him.”

  “He needs help,” Douglas said, feeling sad for the man.

  “John?” came a slurred, husky voice. Geoff had woken up. “You’re a fucking shifter?”

  John laughed. “Geoff, my man, it never bothered you before,” he retorted. “You and I served together for years, butting heads whenever we shared missions. You were as crazy as I was, back in the day. What happened to you, my friend?”

  “Josie and Mary were killed,” Geoff said, sounding grief stricken and lost. “Shifters came in, wanted money from me. I refused, and they beat me nearly to death, after tearing apart my wife and daughter in front of me.”

  “I’m so sorry for your loss, Geoff. We’re not all bad,” John said gently. “Just as not all humans are bad. There’s a few stinky eggs that taint everyone else with the same stench. That’s not you, my friend. Please don’t blame the actions of a few thugs on the rest of us.”

  “I think maybe I need help,” Geoff said brokenly. “I can’t stop the memories. I can’t stop hurting.”

  “Come on, let’s get you some clean clothes and a hot shower,” John suggested, his tone as soft as when he spoke to any of the children in town. “Then we’ll talk. You still owe me for that save in Guam, by the way. And Mick, our very good buddy, seems to remember Guam a little differently than I do.”

  “Mick’s here, too?” Geoff said, and gave a husky chuckle. “That guy was a pistol.”

  “The rest of the crew are in Sage,” John advised. “You must have met Joe already. Zack lives here in town with his husband the sheriff. Cody, as well. This here’s his son, Douglas.”

  Douglas waved at the guy.

  “You’re Cody’s son?” Geoff asked in surprise, then he groaned. “Crap! He’ll kick my ass for shooting you.”

  “Who shot my son?” Cody asked, entering the fray. “Who the fuck are you
?” he snarled.

  “Dad, meet Geoff,” Douglas said, resigned to another round of explanations.

  “Cody, my friend, Geoff and I will explain everything. We just need to get him somewhere to change clothes and get cleaned up,” John said. “Once he’s looking all pretty again, you may remember where you’ve seen him before.”

  “I know you?” Cody sounded even more confused.

  “This is like a daytime soap,” Douglas muttered to himself. “Will you all just leave, please?” he said grumpily. “I need to clean the floor, since dear Geoff here pissed himself. Now scoot, before I turn all furry and snarly, as well.”

  “He’s a little testy, isn’t he?” John said sardonically. We’ll just leave him to his mopping up, shall we?” Douglas sighed with relief when he heard them leave. He tried to remember where the mop and bucket was.

  “Let me help, shall I?” Ghost asked. “I should have kept him away from here, but he got away from me.”

  “I just can’t remember where the cleaning stuff is,” Douglas said, frowning. “There’s a small closet hidden somewhere, with all the supplies inside, but I’m damned if I can recall where. I think it may be in the small office in back. I was a little distracted when I was in there before.”

  “You were, weren’t you?” Ryder said smugly. They’d all christened the office in a sexy and satisfying way, right on the desk.

  “Would you show Ghost where the stuff is, please?” Douglas asked, feeling flustered.

  “Yes, my love,” Ryder answered agreeably, and tweaked Douglas’s ass as he passed. “Let me get the mop, and you clean up,” he said to Ghost.

  “Yes, dear,” Ghost retorted dryly.

  Douglas bit back a laugh at Ryder’s snort. Then he grew more serious. “Did you really lose your legs?” he asked, not wanting to offend, but curious all the same. “My stepdad, Thomas, lost one of his in a shoot-out, domestic violence incident. He has his own gym in town and teaches martial arts, as well. He has a prosthetic leg.”

  Ghost didn’t respond for a few seconds. “I shattered my pelvis,” he explained. “IED exploded after our ATV rolled right over it. The vehicle was incinerated, and I was sent flying through the air, into a culvert. My squad died. Geoff and his guys came and got me out. I’m alive because of him.” He sounded as though he still wasn’t over the incident.

  “How many were killed?” Douglas asked, pushing a little harder.

  “There were six of us in the vehicle. I was the only one who survived.” Ghost’s tone was deliberately blank now, revealing nothing of what he must be feeling.

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” Douglas replied.

  “It was a long time ago.”

  “A lot of us in town have been through stuff, and some of it never goes away,” Douglas answered, hearing the pain in the man’s voice. “You just learn to live with it.”

  “Douglas, hi, could I get some…eew, what’s that?” Alfie came into the shop, obviously spotting the stain on the floor.

  “Someone had an accident,” he replied. “Ghost here is just about to clean it up.”

  “Ghost had the accident?” Alfie asked, sounding a little put out.

  “No, his friend did,” Ryder replied for Douglas. “Scoot back, Alfie, and I’ll get this cleaned up.”

  “I’ll just come back later,” Alfie said quickly.

  “Don’t go just yet,” Douglas called after him. “I wanted to ask you about the swimming trials. I’d like to enter an event.”

  He heard Alfie return. “Which one?” he asked, sounding excited.

  Douglas said, shrugging, “Which are available?”

  He could almost hear the cogs in Alfie’s brain whirring. “Dude, you leave that to me, and I’ll get you a list of all the ones you can enter.”

  Douglas felt alarm bells start to ring in his brain. “Alfie?”

  No answer.

  “He ran out of here with a huge smile on his face,” Ryder drawled, laughing. “I think maybe you’re going to be busy the next few weeks.”

  “He still wants me in the blind running thing,” Douglas said resignedly. “And he thinks I’d be okay at the climbing and jumping thing that we did before I was blinded.”

  “Judging from the look on his face just now, sweetie, I’d say that’ll be the least of your worries,” Ryder said. There was a slight swishing sound, then the drip of water into a bucket, then more swishing and the scent of pine disinfectant reached Douglas’s nostrils.

  “Shit,” Douglas said, disgruntled. He should have known Alfie would go crazy. The little minx was a holy terror when it came to recruiting for the tournament.

  “Can anyone join in the tournament?” Ghost asked curiously.

  “Yeah, if you have any ability at all, in any sport, disabled or able-bodied, there’ll be something for you to enter,” Douglas said, nodding. “There’s wheelchair basketball and rugby, and we’re getting a lot of requests from ex-servicemen and women for swimming events for them to take part in. In the Paralympics, they have different grades, depending on what your limitations are, and you enter a group accordingly. There’s running, shot put, javelin, riding, shooting, archery, volleyball, even an ice rink. The team sports include baseball, basketball, football, soccer. Alfie has all the details of everything on offer.”

  “I’d be interested in signing up, if you don’t mind a beat-up old soldier,” Ghost declared, sounding a little wistful for some reason. “It’s been a while since I did anything fun and competitive.”

  “Do you have somewhere to stay?” Ryder asked. There was the clang of the bucket, and the sound of the mop being wrung out. “Alfie may have some room at the bed-and-breakfast place.”

  “Dad may have some room at his place,” Douglas said. “He has a lift in there, since some of the guys who stayed there have had lingering health problems and can’t manage stairs very well, even after all this time.”

  “I don’t have any money right now,” Ghost admitted, sounding embarrassed.

  “I thought you were investigating some kind of organization?” Ryder asked.

  “I am,” the ex-soldier said. “I’m doing it by myself, not for anyone else. Those guys are recruiting people for their cause, blaming the whole shifter community for wrongs done to them by people like Purdy. I can’t let them destroy everything we’ve worked for.”

  “The Two Spirit Tournament would be the perfect opportunity to stage an attack of some kind,” Ryder said, almost to himself. “Who are the vagrants out at the ranch? Are they part of the group?”

  “I don’t think so,” Ghost said. “They seem like pretty decent folks, needing a break. They’re getting on well with everyone at the ranch and have been volunteering to help out with the crowd control.”

  “I’ve had my team check them out,” Ryder said. “So far I haven’t found anything alarming about them. Except for Geoff,” he added dryly. “How about you come over to the office and we’ll go through a list of suspects that my team have had their eye on for a while. I think maybe you’ll be able to match them to the organization you’ve been keeping an eye on.”

  Alfie came running back in, his sandals skidding on the wet floor, and nearly upended onto the counter. As it was he careened into Douglas, who caught him before the man had an accident.

  “Thanks, that was close,” Alfie said breathlessly, pecking a kiss onto Douglas’s cheek. “Now, then, here’s your list of events that I’ve entered you into. I’ve ticked all the ones I think you’ll be fabulous at. Your mates can read them out to you.”

  He placed a thick wad of paper into Douglas’s hand, kissed him again, then darted back out with a mischievous giggle.

  “Shit.” Douglas just knew Alfie was having far too much fun with this. It didn’t bode well.

  Chapter Twelve

  Douglas got into position, his wrist linked to Cracker’s via a Velcro strap. The pair of them were at the start line, on the main running track at the sports complex. Beside them were five of his friends, who were blin
dfolded and had a running mate, as well. Crouching down, he kicked his heels into the blocks, placed his fingers to the slightly raised start line, and ducked his head, focusing on clearing his mind. Beside him, he heard Cracker slip into position, adopting the same pose. Then the countdown began, and the crack of a pistol rang out. He shot out of the blocks, shoving every ounce of torque into those first few feet, and gathered speed, his head coming up as he straightened, facing straight ahead. He felt the slight tug on the wrist band and Cracker’s harsh breathing as they both got faster and faster, pounding down the straight, perfectly in sync, with Cracker slipping behind just as they reached the finish line, the slight bump in the track signaling the end.

  He heard wild cheering from the stands as he slowed down and tried to hear his friends who should have finished beside him. A moment later, he heard their footsteps and belatedly realized that he’d finished first.

  “They weren’t trying to let you win, dude,” Cracker said, panting heavily. “You were just too fast for them.” He kissed Douglas, then hugged him proudly.

  “Dude, you’re a fucking rocket,” Ethan said, wandering over to fist bump his brother. “Slug and I had no chance of beating you.” Douglas grinned, amazed that he’d actually won.

  “Douglas, remind me to never listen to you when you bitch about not being able to do anything,” Alfie sniped as he came over, as well. “I reckon you’re a ringer, sweetie, psyching us all out and making us think we have a chance at winning. Hah!” He ruined the flaming queen effect by hugging Douglas tightly. “You were incredible,” he whispered, completely sincere.

  “Alfie, I’m just happy I didn’t fall over,” Douglas whispered back.

  The leopard shifter laughed loudly. “No, you didn’t, but the twin terrors, Kevin and Kieran, both ended up wrapped around their running neighbors, John and Cameron. The four of them are just about crawling home now.”

  “Gentlemen,” John said, sounding resigned and not a little put out. “I was stitched up like a kipper,” he said in a fair facsimile of a Cockney accent. “These two idiots are lethal.”