by Aiden Bates
"So go find someone now. Find them on one of those dating sites." She waved her hand. "I'm an old woman. I can't go out and have a mid-life crisis baby or start a new, pure family to distract myself from the tears in my own. I have to depend on my children to give me grandchildren. Ayla ran off when I mentioned it, Ivy gave me a half hour lecture on patriarchy, and you—well. You're my only hope."
"Look, Mama, it's not that easy. There's more to it than just getting down and dirty, okay?" His face burned at the idea of talking about sex with his mother.
"I'm thirty-two years older than you are, darling. If you don't think I know that already, your medical license should be taken away." She pursed her lips and looked up at him. "I want you to find a nice boy. Someone who can bring out the good in you, the best in you."
Derek's face sprang to Alex’s mind immediately. "Mmm-hmm." He tried to keep his tone light and teasing. "And I suppose you have the phone numbers of several of these boys lined up?"
"You're thirty-three years old! Do I have to do everything for you?" She pretended to swat at him. "I might have a few." Her expression softened. "I thought you were getting along with that young man who lived next door to you fairly well."
Alex clenched his jaw. "Can you honestly see him with our family, Mama? He didn't go to college, not even for an associates' degree. His only family is a foster brother, and he has tattoos."
Mama recoiled. "Tattoos? Is he some kind of gangster, a criminal? He seemed like such a nice young man. I know Ayla's very fond of him."
"He's not a gangster. And he is nice. He's very nice." Alex looked out the window at the backyard. He could still imagine his and Derek's children playing out there.
He just couldn't imagine Derek in the picture. Not here.
"We're just working together to help Carmela, and Ayla. That's all."
Mama stared at him for a moment. "Ah, well. Maybe you'd be willing to meet up with Ivan. He's a graduate student in the department. He's an omega and he has the most amazing cheekbones."
"I'll think about it." Alex forced a tight smile onto his face.
He didn't want to go meet Ivan. All he wanted was Derek.
Chapter Ten
When Alex started coming around more often, Derek couldn't say he was surprised. Not exactly. Derek seemed to run hot and cold with him. Some guys were just like that. Sometimes they just couldn't get enough of him, and that was great. Sometimes he'd outlived his usefulness, and Derek knew it was inevitable. Either way, Derek would enjoy the ride while it lasted.
It would be fantastic, though, if Ayla, Carmela, and even Amadi didn't feel compelled to insert themselves into his love life. Derek understood what they were trying to do. He might have tried the same thing under similar circumstances. The difference was that Derek was not a trauma victim—okay, he wasn't a recent trauma victim. He wasn't the one who'd been hurt. He was a grown man who'd dealt with his own crap and moved on.
Maybe they were right. Maybe hooking up with a guy who clearly didn't respect or care for him wasn't the healthiest thing he'd ever done, but damn it Derek deserved some kind of affection. If this was what he could get, it was what he wanted, and he was old enough to make that choice for himself.
He and Carmela started to venture out of the house for short periods of time. Dr. Radic thought it would be a good idea for Carmela to get out and move around a little. The first two outings were difficult, and they didn't get as far as the end of the parking lot before Carmela bolted back to the condo.
That was okay. Derek could live with that. Carmela was ashamed, as only a teenager could be, but Derek held her hand and talked her through it. "You'll get there eventually. You don't have to get there today. All we're trying to do right now is to give you the goal. Tomorrow you'll get further, and then we'll get a little further than that. And maybe the next, we'll make it to the end of the driveway."
Carmela scoffed. "I'm the most pathetic person who's ever lived. I forgot how to speak English, I can't leave the condo, I'm afraid to talk to my own family."
Derek patted her back. "You're remembering how to speak English a little bit at a time, and just a couple of weeks ago you couldn't even make it to the front door of the condo. Progress is relative, sweetheart."
Three days later, they made it out onto the main road. They didn't stay there long before Carmela ran back to the condo, but it was a turning point. Dr. Radic brought cupcakes over to celebrate.
Derek's arm was healing up even better than he'd expected, too. He found the physical therapy exercises were getting easier than he'd thought. Having an actual physician to keep track of them might have helped with that. Then again, maybe Alex had simply done the job right the first time.
He was finally able to leave the sling off now. The arm still ached, and he loathed the weakness it displayed, but here he was. He would regain the strength he'd lost, with time, and soon the only thing left of this ordeal would be a scar and a few new nightmares.
Martin Greer continued to be a presence in Derek's life, even if Derek didn't see his face. He couldn't forget the enemy was out there. Alex didn't think the crook was going to be inclined to act, but Derek didn't share his belief in safety.
Even Alex had to accept the danger when the funeral wreath showed up.
As such things went, the wreath was pretty enough. It could even be described as tasteful. A circle of greenery stood on a stand, broken up by clusters of white roses. It was the ribbons in the middle that threw Derek off the most. In silver letters, on dark gray ribbons, the ribbons bore two names.
Carmela screamed when she saw her name on the bottom ribbon. Derek's blood ran cold, and he thought he could be excused for that. He couldn't afford to react, though. He had to hold it together for Carmela. Instead of taking the ribbons off and throwing them to the ground, he just rolled his eyes and demanded the deliveryman's card.
"Seriously?" The deliveryman, his belly protruding just a bit from under his shirt, showed him a card. "Who gets freaked out about flowers, dude?"
Derek tilted his head, just a little, and gave him a look. "Are you kidding me right now? It's a funeral wreath. With our names on it."
"Oh." The delivery guy's eyes widened. "I thought it was a joke, like an inside thing."
"No." Derek bit his tongue. "Our friends don't play pranks that involve funerals for each other."
Carmela shook her head.
"Oh. Okay. So I shouldn't pull this one on my buddies? Because I thought it was pretty sweet." The delivery guy hesitated before handing his card over.
"I don't know how this one's going to go over with your buddies. I know mine would punch me." Derek left the rest of his threat unsaid.
The delivery guy handed his card over and left. Carmela fled to her room.
Derek would have liked to do the same. Unfortunately, being a grownup meant he didn't have that luxury. He pulled out his phone and called Detective Langbroek, and then Ayla Brennan.
Langbroek arrived first, because that was how things worked when a person had sirens available. "What happened here?" She pushed a wisp of blonde hair out of her face.
Derek gestured to the wreath. "It didn't come with a card, but I'm pretty sure there's only one guy who would have sent something like that."
"You're probably not wrong." She sighed. "We have to prove it, though. Thanks for getting the florist's card. It's going to be very helpful." She sat down on Derek's couch. "I can't say I'm surprised. This guy's a monster."
"Then why are we on our own here?" Derek rubbed at his own temples. "I know you argued for us, and I appreciate that. I do. But I just don't understand the logic that went into that choice, you know? I don't get it. They know who this guy is, and they still decided that we were just expendable."
"It's not that you're expendable. If you get a protection detail, it's giving a big middle finger to the judge that granted bail. They'll take that step, but they're judicious with it. They don't want to do it too often, in case they need him for a warrant." La
ngbroek let her head fall back against the cushions. "In this case they figured he would be reluctant to act when you live in a place with so many people around."
"Well, they were wrong." Derek glowered at the door, as if Langbroek's superiors were on the other side of it. As if they cared.
"Technically, he hasn't acted yet. I mean sure he's tried to intimidate you, but he hasn't tried to hurt you. There's a big distinction there."
"Don't these creeps usually escalate? I mean the kind of guy who sends a funeral wreath isn't going to just decide we're all cool now and he'll keep his hands to himself." Derek flipped off the funeral wreath. It didn't get him anywhere, but it made him feel marginally better.
"As a matter of fact they do." She looked down. "It's a gamble. We're all gambling on the notion that it's too risky for him to try to hurt you."
"That's reassuring."
"Right?" She shot him a wry grin. "I wish I had better news. The best we can hope for right now is to get Carmela well, so we can help her to testify and put these guys away for a very long time."
Derek shook his head. "There are appeals. And who knows just how long their reach is?"
"I'm trying not to think about that. At the end of the day, we just have to cross our fingers and hope it's going to be okay." She sighed. "I feel badly about it, I do. I feel slightly less bad knowing that you were always going to be a target. You and Carmela both—I'm not asking you to make yourselves targets, you were already targets by the time we got involved."
Derek made a face. "Well, I'm not going to pretend you're wrong."
Langbroek took pictures of the wreath and took it away with her. She told him she was going to leave it at the grave of a domestic violence victim, and Derek took her at her word. He wasn't overly concerned. The dead, as far as he was concerned, didn't care if they got flowers or not.
Alex shuddered when Derek described the wreath incident. "How in the hell can they keep justifying not giving you protection?"
Derek looked out the window. He wanted to point out that his alpha should be keeping him safe. He wouldn't need a cop with a gun if he had an alpha by his side. That wasn't his place, though. He wasn't the guy who got an alpha. He was the guy who took care of his own mess. He had to, because he could.
"It's a gamble they're willing to take. At the end of the day, I'm pretty unimportant to the case, and while Langbroek takes the case seriously I don't think most folks take human trafficking seriously. Especially sex trafficking." He flopped back onto his chair. "It's kind of distressing, if I think about it."
"Someone should be looking out for you. It shouldn't be up to you to have to do it all for yourself."
"Maybe it shouldn't, but it is." Derek waited for Alex to volunteer, but he knew better than to think he would.
The first phone call came a couple of days later. It wasn't any more than a few breaths before the caller hung up, but it was still ugly and kind of terrifying.
Detective Langbroek took note of the call, but didn't have much to say about it. It wasn't illegal to call and hang up.
Two days later, the caller added words. "Well hello, Derek. You know who I am."
"Martin Greer." Derek sighed.
Greer laughed a little, delighted. "I'm delighted to have made such an impression on you. Here's what's going to happen. You're going to give me the girl, and then you're going to pack your crap and move far away. I hear they're planning to start up a rock station in Butte."
"Montana's never been my idea of a great time." Derek's insides quaked, but his voice didn't. Thank God for his years on the radio. He could be throwing up into the trashcan and never let it show in his voice. "I'm not into the militia thing."
"Now come on, Derek. Those good old boys are a fantastic source of income if you play your cards right. I can give you a few tips, if you'd like."
"I'll pass. Judging by your history, I think I'm outside the age range for your typical customer."
Greer chuckled. "Now now. Let's not judge all hasty, okay? Plenty of them are receptive to other flavors if you know how to play your cards right, and besides, I wasn't suggesting you offer yourself. That's not smart business, buddy. In an ideal world, you'd get better advice from Bill. But he's not too chatty right now."
"Plus there's the whole thing where he tried to kill me." Derek didn't eat to flash back to that moment, so he kept his eyes open.
"Don't let bitterness close your eyes to new opportunities. Give us the girl and you know he'll let bygones be bygones." Martin gave a little cough. "You sound like a nice guy, Derek. I'd hate to have to hurt you. And you're definitely pretty. If you want to stay that way, and to keep that handsome doctor of yours coming around, you'll be wise and hand her over."
Derek put a finger to his lips. Hot bile rose in his chest. He'd just been hit on and threatened in the same sentence. "I think I'm probably flattered, but seriously. I have to hang on to her. You know how it is. She's my responsibility, that kind of thing. I mean when you take a bullet for someone you can't just turn your back on them after that."
"Well, I'm real sorry to hear about that. I'll give you a week to change your mind, and then we'll come back to the table. Sound like a plan?"
Derek rolled his eyes up to the ceiling. What was it with this type of guy? No was a complete sentence, not the starting point. "I appreciate your point of view, Martin. Thanks for expressing yourself so reasonably. After the last time we met, I have to admit I'm a little surprised."
Greer laughed out loud, a full belly laugh. "Now, let's not judge one another by that day. I'll talk to you in a week." He hung up.
As soon as Derek stopped hyperventilating, he called Langbroek. She arrived at his place within minutes.
"That must have been harrowing, Derek! How did you deal with it?" She passed him a form.
"What's that?"
"It's a release authorizing us to tap your phone. The next time he calls, we can record it and use it as evidence."
Derek hesitated, but he signed it in the end. He hated the thought of someone listening in on his conversations, but he hated the thought of Greer going free even more. "I don't suppose that's enough to go pick him up yet?"
"Not until we can prove he really did it." Langbroek's face fell. "It's your word against his."
"And I'm a dirty foster kid omega. Got it." Derek turned his head away.
"We want to make it stick." Her jaw clenched, and a vein there twitched. "Look, is there someone who can come over and stay here for the night?"
Derek thought about reaching out to Alex. It made a perfect excuse. Hey, the cops said I should have someone stay with us tonight. Are you up for the task?
Alex would laugh him out of the complex. "No. There's no one," Derek told her. "It's just us."
"Okay. Well, I'll ask them to have someone drive by a little more often than normal. It's the best I can do."
"It should be enough." Derek smiled with a courage he didn't feel.
***
Alex knew something was wrong when he saw that detective of Derek's, the blonde, heading over to his house again and again. He needed to check things out and figure out what was going on. It was his job, after all. He needed to make things happen.
He headed over to Alex’s apartment after the third time the detective left. "Look, I know you're strong and independent and all that, but what's actually going on here? I thought he just sent you the flowers and that was the end of it."
Derek snorted. "Hardly the end of it." He rubbed the back of his neck. "We had a great conversation yesterday." He ran his tongue ring over his teeth, which drove Alex’s mind wild. "Actually, he mentioned you."
Alex pulled back, blinking. "Are you kidding me right now? Why would he even know who I am?"
Derek's eyes lost a little bit of their light. "Because he's seen you coming over here a few times, Alex. If you want to avoid coming over, no one's going to blame you."
Something flared up inside Alex’s chest. He chalked it up to heartburn, altho
ugh that wasn't quite right. "You are kidding me, aren't you? I'm not going to let some criminal, some rapist, dictate my life."
Derek shrunk back a little bit. "Alex, this guy isn't messing around. He thinks there's more going on here than there is, and he wants to use you as leverage against me to get to Carmela."
"It's good for people to want things. It keeps them hungry. I'm still not letting that son of a bitch tell me where I can go, what I can go, or who I can do for that matter."
"Keep it classy, Alex." Derek snickered in spite of himself. "I don't want you to take that kind of risk for me."