by Jools Louise
“They forged documents, courtesy of some old friends of ours,” Chaz added. “Our wolverine buddies’ extended family are well-known for their shady abilities to secure finances. You may know some of them…three of them were incarcerated at San Quentin.”
Sherman let out a feral snarl at that, his fists clenching and his claws sprouting from his fingers, needle sharp. “Who?” he asked sharply.
“Like I said, from one of the wolverine clans,” Chaz said. “Slug and his mates were betrayed by their families, and nearly killed by the cult. They were buried beneath this town, as was their mate, Ethan, and a bunch of others, and they all nearly died. When Aston was released from prison, Ethan mentioned that some of their extended family, through marriage not blood, were incarcerated at San Quentin.”
“You remember the wolverines in San Quentin, Sherman,” Aston said grimly. “They ran an extortion racket inside.”
Sherman stared at his friend, and nodded slowly. Cracker gave a low, menacing growl.
“Those little fuckwits at San Quentin were involved in my sister’s death?” he asked, his voice dangerously quiet. “How come we spent fifteen years inside and never knew?”
“They were arrested by Federal authorities when stuff about President Houston came out,” Chaz added. “They’ve only been in jail a few years, and I doubt you rubbed shoulders with them that often.”
“They ran the fucking prison,” Sherman growled angrily.
“We need to speak to the wolverines again,” Ryder said.
“They’re not involved,” Douglas protested, having remained silent during the intense conversation. “They have nothing to do with their families, they emancipated themselves. Don’t blame them for this. They’ve been through enough.”
“No, love,” Ryder said. “But they know those wolverines, they may be able to shed more light on what’s going on. Perhaps they remember some stuff.”
“What good would that do?” Cracker asked bitterly. “My sister is dead, we all spent fifteen years locked up for taking care of the bastards who did it, and now we find out that someone got rich over the whole mess while we rotted in jail. What fucking good will it do to find out anything else? They’ve won.” He stalked off, letting himself out of the apartment, and disappeared, the door slamming behind him.
“Let me go and speak to him,” Sherman said gruffly, kissing Chaz. “He’s the one who’s suffered the most. He’s felt the guilt from Squeak’s death for years, because he couldn’t save her. Finding out that people are still profiting from our tragedy is…disturbing.”
“He won’t hurt the wolverines, will he?” Douglas asked worriedly, clutching Ryder’s hand tightly.
Sherman shot him a grim look, hesitating before answering. “I don’t know what he’ll do,” he replied after a moment. “Cracker didn’t get his nickname because he’s cool as a cucumber.”
Douglas gasped, looking concerned.
Chaz stepped over to the phone and dialed the bed and breakfast. It rang for a few seconds before a sleepy voice answered. “Yo.”
“Lash?” Chaz said urgently. “We just found out that one of the gangs who murdered Cracker’s sister is linked to those family members of yours who are in San Quentin,” he gabbled.
“What?” Lash said, fully alert, now.
“Cracker just found out, and he may come to see you. He’s angry because one of the gangs that got away stole a trust fund, facilitated by those same inmates, and is considerably wealthy, living the high life in New York City. He’s looking for answers, and Ryder just told him that you were related to them.” There was a loud crash, then shouting, and then the phone suddenly went dead, and Chaz shouted into it, terrified.
“We need to get over there,” he said, grabbing his keys. “I heard a loud crash, and then the phone was cut off.”
“Crap!” Sherman snarled, following Chaz out the door, with the rest of guys following right behind.
On the way, Chaz knocked loudly on Pace and Zack’s apartment door, opposite. When a sleepy Pace appeared, rubbing his eyes, Chaz explained the situation, and then rushed away, not knowing what had happened—it hadn’t sounded good.
* * * *
Sherman ran with his mate to the bed and breakfast where the wolverines lived. He knew that they could take care of themselves, but he also knew firsthand what Cracker was capable of. The man could fire up like a rocket, and the fall-out was never pretty.
The front door to the bed and breakfast had been blasted off its hinges, the heavy oak door lying a few feet down the hall, and there was a loud kerfuffle toward the back of the large house. Chaz nipped in front, and raced toward the noise. Sherman had his heart in his mouth, not knowing what to expect, and found himself in a large, industrial-sized kitchen with Cracker shouting his mouth off, four tattooed wolverine shifters facing off against him, shouting right back, and Alfie in the middle shaking his finger at the big, blond bruiser who was Sherman’s second. Ethan, the wolverines’ mate, was in jaguar mode, snarling at Cracker, his massive fangs bared, his tail lashing from side to side, hazel eyes glittering angrily. He looked as though he was going to attack Cracker at any moment. Mason and Jay, Alfie’s mates, were nowhere to be seen.
“Cracker, stand down,” Sherman ordered harshly, using his alpha tone. It sometimes worked.
“I just wanted to talk,” Cracker said, the bite in his voice suggesting otherwise.
“Liar!” Alfie shouted, stepping forward. “You broke down our front door, and then accused my friends of murdering your sister!”
“I didn’t mean that they had anything to do with my sister’s death,” Cracker said, baring his fangs again. “I just wanted to know what they knew about what happened.”
“Oh, really?” Slug sneered sarcastically. “That’s funny, because from what I heard, it sounded a whole lot like you had us in your sights, too.”
“What the hell did you do, Cracker?” Pace growled as he stalked into the kitchen, in his uniform, wearing his weapon belt.
“Ryder suggested that we speak to the wolverines about their family in San Quentin, who are apparently linked to the death of Cracker’s sister,” Chaz explained, glaring at the man in question as he entered behind everyone else, Douglas at his side.
“You have a big mouth, Ryder,” Pace snarled angrily. “You didn’t bother to read the whole file, did you Cracker?”
“I read a few pages, is all,” the big shifter replied tautly.
“The wolverines here, the ones you’ve been ‘talking to,’ are estranged from their family. Their direct relatives tried to kill them all to get to their money, left to them by their grandparents. Rage’s brother murdered Douglas’s first mate…in front of half the town, on the orders of his own parents. These guys would kill themselves before they harmed anyone in this town…or anyone as vulnerable as your sister.
“The wolverines who are incarcerated in San Quentin are part of the group who planned that whole thing. That’s their specialty. They have a gift for embezzlement and forgery, and were arrested when President Houston was impeached for helping him to secure his position in government. They paid off people to get him into power, and helped to control him, for their own ends. These guys here have nothing to do with any of that.” Pace shot the young wolverines a sympathetic look. “They were victims, too. They had nothing to do with your sister, or her death…they were children when that happened.”
Cracker deflated at that, falling to his knees and covering his face with his hands. He began sobbing hard, wrenching cries that sounded as though they were being ripped from his soul. Douglas cried out, and plowed past Chaz and Sherman, wrapping his arms around his big mate, trying to offer comfort.
“I’m so sorry,” Douglas kept repeating, sobbing, as well. “We’ll get through this, we will. But please, don’t blame the wrong people…we’ll get the right ones, don’t worry.”
Chaz felt tears well up as he watched the pair, and glared at Ryder, who stared sadly at his mates.
�
�I’m sorry, too,” Ryder said, looking over at the wolverines. “I just thought…”
“No, that’s just it, you didn’t think, did you? You just made an assumption about us, like everyone else has, just because we happen to be wolverine shifters,” Rage said bitterly, and walked off.
“Come on, baby,” Lash said to Ethan, who was still in jaguar form, standing guard. “They’ll never trust us, that’s just the way it is. We’re wolverines.”
“We do trust you,” Pace cut in. “The reports that I obtained made clear who was involved…and I know damned well that you had nothing to do with any of this. Ryder had no right to suggest that you did.”
Lash simply walked away with his mate, his hand resting on Ethan’s furry head.
Slug and Charm remained, arms folded across their chests, looking tough, cynical, and every inch the badasses they often pretended to be. “What else did your report make clear?” Slug asked, and edge of sarcasm coating his words.
Pace sighed heavily, raking a hand through his hair, his green eyes glittering with frustration. “Sherman’s stepfather targeted Sherman’s mom, before her first husband died. When she was widowed, she stood to inherit a substantial sum of money. There is evidence that the stepfather, Daniel Steadman, had something to do with the death of Sherman’s dad, and also that he was complicit in Cracker’s sister’s death. Two of the gang members who murdered Cracker’s sister escaped…one is living in a penthouse apartment in his own skyscraper in Manhattan. He obtained a great deal of money, courtesy of your relatives in San Quentin. Sherman’s mother disappeared soon after the group were incarcerated, and nobody’s seen or heard from her since. Her accounts have remained untouched, but we can’t find any trace of what’s happened…but we’re working on it. If he is involved in her disappearance, then he wasn’t able to get to her personal funds. They were locked up, in legal terms, so that nobody but her sons could access them…and that required a personal visit.”
“My stepfather didn’t like having gays in his house, even though it was my parents’ house, and apparently he hated even more the fact that his own son, Kaden, was friendly with Cracker’s sister,” Sherman interjected. “My mom was fully supportive of Stephanie, and helped her with the initial transitional therapy. I never heard from Mom after we went to jail, and her phone was cut off. I have a bad feeling about that. If my stepfather was implicated in my dad’s death, then maybe he did something to my mom, too,” Sherman said quietly. “Kaden was implicated in Stephanie’s death, too, and we’ve all spent the past fifteen years thinking he betrayed us, because my stepfather wanted to split us up and drive a wedge between us.” Sherman took a deep breath, shuddering as he said the words aloud. “I guess we have something in common after all,” he added, smiling wearily.
“Poisonous relatives?” Charm drawled, relaxing his stance slightly. “Yeah, I feel that, big guy.”
“I wanted someone to blame,” Ryder said, his body rigid, as though apologies came hard. “I just found out that I have two mates, and one is hurting…I wanted to hurt someone back.” He stared at the wolverines. “I forgot for a moment how much you’ve been through, and how much you’ve lost…I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions.”
“Cracker, we had nothing to do with what happened,” Slug said sadly. “But we’ll do everything we can to make sure that those responsible are punished…we can help set something up. We burned a lot of bridges with the clans when we chose to live here, and remain mated to Ethan…and killed members of our family. But there may be a way to get justice. I’ll make some calls.”
Cracker’s head came up at that, his eyes unfocused and swollen with tears. “We spent fifteen years in the slammer for trying to get justice…maybe it’s too late.”
“No, it isn’t,” Pace retorted, his eyes hard. “I have connections, too. And mine have a history of getting things done—legally. Let me make the phone calls, Slug, and then we’ll parley in a couple of days. I’ll let you know my plan when I get word back. Is that okay?”
The wolverine nodded, offering his outstretched hand to Cracker. They shook, sharing an unspoken message as their eyes met, before Slug and his mate headed off to bed again.
“What the fuck happened to our front door?” came a loud voice from the foyer.
Cracker flinched, wiping his eyes, and looking embarrassed as hell.
“I need to fix that,” he said gruffly, sheepishly. “I’m sorry, Alfie,” he added, sniffing hard. “I scared you, coming in like that. I just sort of, erupted, after everything that’s happened.”
Alfie’s face crumpled, and he rushed forward, hugging Cracker tightly. “Don’t be silly, you’ve had a stressful day, sweetie. I can’t imagine how you must feel, spending all those years locked up and then all this…stuff…just comes out. Why don’t I make you some hot chocolate to go, it’ll help you sleep.”
Cracker sniffed again, his eyes filling. “I’d like that,” he whispered huskily, hugging Alfie back.
“What happened here?” Jay asked as he stepped into the kitchen, dressed in sweats and panting a little. He looked as though he’d been running.
“We had a little misunderstanding, that’s all, sweetie,” Alfie replied, giving his mate a kiss. Mason came along the corridor, dressed the same way as Jay, and had a sweat on, too.
“A misunderstanding that involved a tornado coming through our door?” he asked, staring at Cracker who still knelt on the floor, looking forlorn.
“Sweetie, where did you get to?” Alfie said, staring at both men. “I thought you went out for a couple of drinks…it’s now after one in the morning.”
Jay and Mason exchanged a guilty look, and flushed beet red. “Er, we decided to go for a run, that’s all,” Mason replied.
Alfie stared, eyes narrowed, one hand on his hip. “You’ve been practicing, haven’t you?” he said.
“What? No, we just walked quite fast coming home,” Jay explained.
“Did you race one another?” Chaz asked, and grinned as their flushes deepened. “You did, didn’t you?”
“We may have indulged in a little sprinting along the street, in the interests of the Shifter Games,” Mason acknowledged, smiling a little.
“Who won?” Alfie asked, grinning.
Jay snorted. “We didn’t actually finish the race,” he admitted. “We got distracted along the way.”
“Really?” Alfie said dryly, arching one brow. “Sherman, are you still looking for teammates for your soccer team?”
Sherman grinned, and nodded. “Are you offering your services?” he asked the embarrassed shifters. “My brother has his own crew, and I have five including me for our team so far. We aim to take down the Two Spirit boys.”
Jay grinned. “That would include my darling brother, John,” he said. “Count me in, dude.”
“I’m signed onto the Two Spirit team,” Mason said, smirking at the pair of them. “That’s kind of why Jay and I were racing. He thinks we’re going to lose at everything.”
Sherman smirked. “You are,” he replied, winking.
“Maybe we can get a couple of wolverines on our team,” Cracker said quietly, wiping his eyes repeatedly.
Douglas gave a low cry of relief, and peppered kissed over Cracker’s damp face. “That would mean the world to those boys,” he said, snuggling against his mate. Then he looked up at Ryder, who was looking a little lost. “Perhaps you could join Sherman’s team, Ryder,” he suggested, sending a hopeful look to Sherman.
“I don’t think those guys would want me on their team,” Ryder said, shaking his head. “I’ve just been the biggest douche.”
“They’re a lot more forgiving than you might think,” Douglas told him, grabbing his hand. “They took a lot of stick from people in this town because of what happened to Ethan, because they were his guards. People blamed them for a long time, when in reality they had tried to protect him. They’ve been so used to people misjudging them, and they just want to fit in.” He squeezed Ryder’s hand. “Go talk t
o them, please?”
“No need,” Lash said, coming back down the hall. “We heard you.” He gave Ryder a hard stare, and then offered his hand. “We’d be happy to be involved in the games, and we’d kick some serious ass if we all teamed up together. Those Two Spirit pussies won’t know what’s hit ‘em,” he added, smirking.
Ryder accepted the olive branch, and shook Lash’s hand firmly, nodding. “I really am sorry,” he said gruffly. “I feel as though I’m treading water here, through uncharted waters.”
Lash grinned, and punched Ryder lightly in the shoulder. “Welcome to our world,” he said dryly, before disappearing down the hallway again.
“I need to fix that door,” Cracker said, getting to his feet.
“No, we’ll do that,” Mason said gently. “I don’t know what happened, or why, but it looks as though you’ve had enough of a day already. Jay and I will sort the door out pretty quickly. I’ll get my tool kit.”
The men exited the kitchen as the rest of the group sat at the large kitchen table. Chaz, Sherman, Cracker, Douglas, Ryder, and Pace all watched as Alfie prepared a large pot of hot chocolate, poured it into take-out cups, and then shooed them off home, with a hug and a kiss for each of them.
“Thanks, Alfie,” Chaz whispered, hugging his friend as the others left. “I’m so sorry about all this.”
“No, sweetie, you have nothing to apologize for,” Alfie replied gently. “It seems as though as soon as we’re all settled, something else rears up and kicks us in the gonads, doesn’t it? I think perhaps that there are even more surprises in store. The preacher and his madness had a huge network of followers, and people they contracted to do their dirty work. Those people will have gone to ground. We just have to dig them up again, and make sure they’re held responsible for what they’ve done.”