by Athena Blaez
The reputation he’d built through the years since returning with his mother to Aurora helped keep the crap at bay.
As a result, perhaps his shop was less pawn and more antique thrift.
In any case, he made a good living at it. The proceeds of the shop went to buying the building he was in and still pay his mother’s medical bills.
She wasn’t quite ready to go into assisted living but Sean knew that was lingering on the horizon. As a result, he kept his finances with a tight fist, which helped as he sorted through the crap that occasionally waltzed through his door.
He was setting out the jewelry from the vault when his phone jumped and buzzed on the counter. Pulling it over to eye the caller, it was an unknown number. His gut feeling was to let it ring.
So, he let it go to voicemail and turned the phone off. If it was important, they’d leave a message.
His suspicion, his fear, was that it was his father.
The deadbeat drifted in and out of his life for decades. He got Sean’s mother pregnant but didn’t stick around to raise his son. Unless he needed money. Or a place to lay low if he was on the run from the law or from his current loan shark.
Gambling debts, petty larceny, and occasional work as some small-time gangster’s heavy…it was trouble his mother didn’t need in her life. And trouble Sean didn’t want in his.
No love was lost between him and Ernie. He damn sure wasn’t going to call the man ‘dad’, regardless of being the sperm donor. And Ernie wasn’t going to call him ‘son’ when Sean was responsible for their divorce.
Yet still the man persisted on coming around when he was in trouble. Or needed something. Playing on the heartstrings of ‘family’ and ‘blood’, as if those had any actual meaning to Ernie.
Sean had firsthand experience that they didn’t until it suited him.
After he finished setting up the jewelry counter, he turned his phone back on, and checked for messages. Three more times the number logged as calling. Still no voicemail.
The phone buzzed in his hand, startling him. He thumbed the volume button until the ring tone jingled merrily. He almost ignored it, but his experience taught him his father wouldn’t give up until he’d reached a live voice.
“The Pawn Shop,” Sean said into the phone.
“Don’t you ever answer your phone, boy?” His father’s voice slurred in his usual hateful, slightly drunk, way.
“When I’m not busy and when I recognize the number. What do you want, Ernie?”
“I was trying to call your mother—”
“She has a new cell phone.”
“What’s the number?”
“Like hell I’m giving that to you,” Sean said. The edge in his voice was evident. “Mom is fighting cancer. Again. So, if you have something you need from her, you can tell me and I’ll pass it along.”
“Fucking brat.” Ernie said that under his breath but when he’d been drinking, his murmurs and whispers weren’t nearly as quiet as he believed they were.
Fucking brat was the least of Ernie’s problems when it came to Sean. Ever since Sean was old enough to stand between the old man and his mother to protect her, their relationship, already strained, fell apart until they both held nothing but mutual loathing.
“Well, as much as this heartfelt talk has lightened my day, Ernie, I really am quite busy. I’ll talk to you another time—”
“Stop. Just…hold on. I’m sorry, okay?” Ernie breathed heavily in the phone. “I’m just a little tense right now, and I need to talk to Belinda.”
Sean wanted to just hang up, but regardless of his animosity, his mother still loved the asshole. He owed it to her to at least hear him out. “What?”
“There’s this guy, Rocco Stone. You remember Rocco? Used to hang out with us when you were in grade school. He and I got into a deal that went sideways—”
“Jesus.” Sean rubbed at his face. Why didn’t he hang up? He was clearly a glutton for punishment. “And this concerns me how?”
“I was hoping that I could get a loan from Belinda. Just a couple of thou—”
There it was. No hi honey, love you, miss you, I screwed up and I want to make things right. “No.”
“Just hear me out. This is bad this time, Sean—”
“It’s always bad, Ernie. There’s never a time when it isn’t bad.” Sean huffed into the phone. “And you always find a way to get out of it. You’ve bled mom dry, you fuck. She doesn’t have any money left.”
“Oh.” Ernie’s side of the conversation grew silent. After a moment, “What about you? You got that fancy-ass shop of yours. Surely you got a few spare laying around.”
Did he not hear a word about Mom’s health?
Sean snorted. “This conversation is over.” Before Ernie could say anything more, he killed the call and turned his phone off.
Ernie was a lowlife and a deadbeat. He was also involved with dangerous people on a regular basis.
It didn’t take a psychic to know that, with Ernie back on his radar, this wasn’t going to end well.
Chapter 2
Ryder Cole wasn’t normal by any stretch of the imagination. A wolf shifter, alpha of a pack with a long history in town, and business owner of a tourist trap that saw brisk business, even when not in tourist season.
His dreams were usually a legacy of his wolf nature. Running dreams, hunting dreams, living in the wild with the wind ruffling his fur and the clean mountain air filling his nose. So his unusual dreams weren’t really so unusual due to his true nature.
What happened the night before was…unexpected. Being a red-blooded man with a fairly active sex drive, nocturnal emission dreams weren’t out of the norm.
But that dream…that dream wasn’t a normal horny dream. It was too real to him. It was as if he stepped into a movie.
“Another cup, Ryder?”
Charlene’s voice broke through Ryder’s morning fog as he nursed his cup of coffee. He straightened and sat back while she refilled his mug. “Thanks,” he said with a rough voice.
“You look like hell before breakfast,” she said, resting her hip against the table. “Everything okay?”
“Had a really strange dream last night.” He scrubbed at his face before reaching for the little creamers that she had scattered in front of him. “Not sure what to make of it.”
“Things in general have been a little topsy-turvy since Gage McBride returned to town to take control of his clan west of here.”
Clan. Local jargon to indicate one of the three packs that occupied the surrounding territory around the town. Most of the long-term human families and locals knew of the presence of werewolves. The local government and law enforcement didn’t make a big deal about it. As long as it didn’t interfere with tourist trade, the three wolf packs were allowed to operate in the area. The deal with the humans was that pack business stayed outside the town limits and didn’t impact the local farming or tourist trade.
The peace had been kept for several generations of Alphas for all the packs. It was the reality that Ryder grew up in.
“That’s the truth,” he said in agreement.
There was a short period of time that Ryder’s pack, the Oak Mountain pack, along with his longtime friend and Albian Pass pack alpha, Devan Ross, had kept a very close eye on the Skull Creek pack. There had been some sort of challenge and the old alpha was replaced by a new one.
A nastier one. Charlie Adler was rotten to the core. As long as he kept to his own territory, things rocked on. The moment he brought a bad element into Aurora, it got the attention of the human sheriff, who then brought Ryder and Declan in to make it right.
Now Charlie was out, Gage was back in, and things had settled down.
Until Ryder’s own problems started.
He could only deal with one issue at a time, considering their pack was small.
Right now, that issue was a young pack pup by the name of Bryan Silva.
Who was late, by the last check of his watch. Ryde
r had a feeling the young pup wasn’t going to respect his father’s request to meet with the pack Alpha.
A slap in Ryder’s face to be disrespected like that.
All in all, he supposed, of all the problems that could plague the pack, a pup who had strayed into illegal territory was not a bad thing to deal with.
But Ryder himself had only just come into leadership of the Oak Mountain pack and was still feeling the ripple repercussions of that switch over. Most wolves in the pack would eventually settle down, but right now Bryan’s defiance was but a small test to his authority.
The dream he had last night?
That was just another aggravation he didn’t need.
An hour after Ryder called Bryan’s father to ask where his son was, Kenneth Silva was guiding his teenage son by the shoulder, steering him into the diner. The look on his face told Ryder the man wasn’t happy.
By the hunch of Bryan’s shoulders, he’d heard about it all the way into town.
With a firm hand, Kenneth guided his son to sit on the bench seat across from Ryder. “Alpha,” he said with forced respect. “I’m sorry my son kept you waiting.”
Ryder waved it off. He didn’t want to get into it with Kenneth at the moment. This was already a tense situation. Making it worse now over petty politics wasn’t in the pack’s best interest.
At least Kenneth acknowledged that most of the time.
“Cindy told me you called the house looking for Bryan and that you expected him an hour ago.” Kenneth’s lips were pressed in a thin line, his gaze cold and hard as his eyes regarded Ryder. “Can I ask what this is about?”
“This is about returning something that didn’t belong to him.”
If Bryan could shrink into his seat any more, he would have attempted it.
“What does that mean?”
“That means Bryan is in possession of something that doesn’t belong to him. The woman he stole it from is someone well regarded in the town hierarchy. She showed me video of a break-in last week.”
Bryan’s head snapped up. “She…what?”
“You didn’t know there was video?” Ryder shrugged. “She was able to identify the other guy in the video. When I talked with Matt…well, he’s a credit to you as a friend. He didn’t want to finger you initially. Until Mrs. Windham said she would just take the matter to the police.”
Kenneth glared down at his son. “Is this true?”
“It was just a dumb-ass locket. It wasn’t even worth much when I sold it.”
Ryder kept an eye on Bryan’s father. The muscles in his jaw ticked. He turned to Ryder. “I’m sorry, Alpha. I’ll take care of this right away.”
Ryder held up a hand. “Actually, Bryan’s going to make this right. How much did you get for the locket?”
“Fifty bucks.”
“Do you still have the money?” Kenneth demanded.
Bryan’s shoulders rose and he flinched at the tone in Kenneth’s voice.
“No sir.”
“Where is the locket now?”
“I sold it at that pawnshop down on River Street.”
After a moment, Kenneth dug into his wallet and threw several bills on the table. “Go get it back and return it to Mrs. Windham. Don’t come home until you do.”
Jamming his wallet into his back pocket, Kenneth limped from the diner. There was a specific reason why he wasn’t alpha of the Oak Mountain pack and it sat on Kenneth’s shoulders in a bitter way. A bad bone reset that even werewolf healing couldn’t make right.
Ryder sat there as Bryan slowly gathered the money. “I’m sorry, Alpha.”
“Can I ask you why?” Bryan’s actions weren’t those of a blustery troublemaker. It troubled Ryder.
Bryan shrugged his shoulders. “Dunno. Seemed like fun at the time.”
“I guess the thrill of a B&E would do that. I’ve had my share of those.”
Bryan’s gaze snapped up. “You, Alpha?”
“My father didn’t think much of me, either, unless it was to control every aspect of my life. It gave me that sense of freedom.” Ryder folded his hands on the table in front of him. “To do something that was totally for me.”
Ryder was surprised to see relief spread over Bryan’s face. “She’s really not going to press charges?”
“Well, that is going to depend on whether we can get the locket back. That’s all she wants. She wants what you stole. If we can get it back, she said she won’t bother the sheriff with it.”
Ryder watched Bryan carefully, looking for signs that he was insincere in his contrition. He wasn’t giving off the body language. “Why don’t we take a walk down to the pawnshop and see if they still have it. If so, maybe we can strike a deal to get it back.”
Bryan scrubbed at his cheek before he nodded. “Thanks, Alpha.”
The pawnshop wasn’t exactly what he was expecting. It certainly wasn’t like any pawnshop that he had been into when he lived in New York. It was…quaint.
As they passed between the shelves, Ryder paused to look at the items for sale and the prices. It definitely didn’t give off any pawnshop vibe. The items displayed were more like antique pieces than anything. The shelves were orderly and dusted. The items themselves ran the spectrum of old to fairly modern.
The only thing it had in common with a pawnshop was the sheer amount of merchandise on the shelves. And of course, bars over the windows. That was a dead giveaway.
Bryan led the way through the labyrinthine array of shelves to the counter.
The cabinet that extended almost the full length of the back of the store was filled with jewelry and obviously choice, expensive knickknacks. The back wall itself had an interesting array of guns and rifles.
There was a cheerful younger woman working at the counter. She looked up to greet them. “Hi, what can I do for you?”
Ryder smiled his most charming smile and laid a hand on Bryan’s shoulder. “This young man came in the store the other day and sold a locket to you. I was wondering if there was a way that we could buy it back.”
She squinted at Bryan before she recognized him. “Oh right. The ivory cameo. We did give him the fair market value for that item.”
Ryder stopped her. “I’m sure you did. The thing is, we’d like to buy it back, if that’s something we can do.”
“Well…” she glanced down at the case. “I don’t see it here. We may have sold it already.”
Bryan looked like he was about to cry.
Ryder was silent for a moment. He thought back to the dream and how he remembered the man was holding something with a long silver chain. It had been put in the man’s pocket. With a frown, he couldn’t recall what happened after that other than the sex. In his dream, it didn’t seem that important at the time. Not when he was busy taking the man’s clothing off.
He inhaled sharply to shake the imagery. Sporting an erection now was not what he needed. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that it hadn’t been sold. There was no rhyme or reason for his feeling, just what he remembered in a stupid dream. “Just on the off chance it was taken to the back, would you go look?” Ryder asked suddenly.
She shook her head. “I don’t think it’s back there. It had been appraised last night and to be set out for sale this morning.”
Bryan put his money on the counter. “Please? It’s really important.”
Glancing at the money, the woman smiled. “Sure. Sit tight. I’ll check.”
It was a long shot but maybe it was still in the shop. Ryder knew it had to be.
It definitely had to be there. If it wasn’t, he didn’t know if he could continue to smooth over things with Mrs. Windham. She was old money in Aurora, and her family history went back as far as the civil war, and equally long as an ally for the Oak Mountain pack. A staunch ally of werewolves if there was ever one.
She had backed Ryder’s bid for alpha. He needed this to work out.
Not long after the woman disappeared, she was back. Behind her, a man followed her out. “I’m Se
an, the owner, and I understand you’re looking for thi—”
A wave of familiarity washed over Ryder. It gave him vertigo and he put out a hand to steady himself before he crashed into a display shelf.
He turned to the voice and was face-to-face with the man of his dream.
And it looked like the guy recognized him, too.
Everything in the dream came rushing back to him as if he were reliving it.
In the rush of confusion and highly charged tension, Ryder couldn’t shake the feeling of familiarity that settled over him like a blanket. “I know you.”
Chapter 3
There’s a moment when Sean realized that he knew of someone in that distant, watched-them-in-passing, sort of way, and here he was, standing in Sean’ shop with the same dumbfounded look on his face that Sean was positive he was wearing, too.
God, even his voice sounded the same as his dream.
“Sean?” Katrina nudged him with her elbow. “He is the guy looking for the cameo.”
Her touch brought Sean out of his shock. “Um,” he cleared his throat. “Right. The cameo. I uh…”
Frowning, he pulled the locket from his pocket and placed it on the counter between them. “Is this it?”
The other man didn’t look at the locket. He was looking at Sean. Sean’s face heated. That was not just any look. That was an ‘I know’ look.
Yeah. That was the weird thing about Sean’s ability to invade someone’s dreams. Not only was Sean acutely aware he was trespassing, but more often than not, if the other person was receptive, they knew it too.
It was one of those weird lucid dream things that happened.
Normally it wasn’t so embarrassing. But he did have sex with the guy in the dream.
Mind-blowing sex, his brain helpfully reminded him.
“That’s the one,” the kid said, and he sounded relieved.