The Wolf at Bay (Big Bad Wolf)

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The Wolf at Bay (Big Bad Wolf) Page 25

by Charlie Adhara


  Park reached up and brushed his fingers across part of Cooper’s collarbone oh-so-gently, but he still felt a slight sting where Park had bitten him before. Park’s hand then moved slowly to wrap around the back of Cooper’s neck and tug him down to the bed until he was lying down, half-on and half-off of Park, with the side of his throat pressed firmly against Park’s mouth.

  Weird. Uncomfortable. Vulnerable. So good.

  He felt Park murmuring something against the delicate skin beneath his jaw and tried to decode the pattern of his lips for a minute before giving up and just enjoying the high. The exact words didn’t matter. Cooper could feel Park’s body trembling and his arms holding him close. He got the gist.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Hours later Park was sprawled out and finally sleeping across his chest while Cooper checked his phone. He’d much rather forego the outside world and stay hidden away in bed with Park until doomsday but seeing as how a significant percentage of his nearest and dearest had found themselves on the wrong side of the law in the last twenty-four hours, it seemed like a bad time to cut off friends in high places.

  Not that anyone seemed particularly friendly at the moment. Santiago had sent an ominous We have a lot to discuss on your return message. Dean had sent multiple texts, including Where are you? and Dad is acting weird and isn’t sure if you’re coming back to the house and finally R U and OP on run? Need $ and/or condoms?

  Even Ava had sent a disturbing picture of a book Oliver had lent him last week with the jacket shredded and Boogie in the background with a glare that said, Come home or you’re next.

  The last and strangest message was a voicemail from an unknown number. Cooper turned down the volume and played it once, and then again, listening more carefully.

  Cooper, it’s me, Stephen. I need to talk to you. In person. Come by my house as soon as possible, it’s important.

  Pause.

  Do not bring the... Don’t bring Park. You have to come alone. Soon.

  Another pause. Longer this time, and when he spoke again Stephen sounded almost angry.

  If I so much as smell him down the block, forget it, we’re done. And so is Mr. Park.

  Cooper played it a third time, but Stephen gave no hint as to what it was he wanted to talk about. He just gave his address and abruptly hung up.

  “You aren’t actually considering going to that, are you?” Park said against Cooper’s chest, and he jumped a bit.

  “I thought you were sleeping.”

  “Did that. Awake now,” Park slurred. “Trust Daugherty don’t.” He licked his lips. “Don’t trust Daugherty.”

  “Hmm, yes, wide awake and eloquent as ever.” Cooper ran his hand over Park’s hair and smiled when he felt him arch against him and hum. “Stephen wants to talk and it could be important, so yes, I am going.”

  “I thought you were done investigating.”

  “I am.” Cooper paused. “This isn’t investigating. This is just...a talk with an old friend.”

  Park did him the courtesy of not calling that out as the obvious bullshit it was. “All right.” He rolled off of Cooper and stretched, several joints popping loudly. “Just let me put some pants on and we can start not investigating right away.”

  “Park...” He was reluctant to disturb the cozy sort of peace between them, but didn’t see a way around it. “I want to go alone.”

  Park dropped back down to the bed and stared at him. Then, abruptly, he laughed. “You’re not serious.”

  Cooper felt a fizzle of irritation. “He said to come alone. He also said if he saw you again there’d be another fight.”

  “Without sounding like a jerk, how can I describe just how little that concerns me?”

  “Oliver—” Cooper forced himself to take a breath. “If he has something to tell me, something important, he’s not going to do it with you there. That’s not my fault, but that’s the way it is. As your partner, I’m asking you to trust me. Trust that I can, and that I will, take care of myself. Just like you expect me to trust you.”

  Park looked at him for a long time, and Cooper almost worried he was going to say no. What the hell would I say then? But eventually Park nodded. “Okay. I will. I do.”

  Cooper hesitated, wanting to lean down and kiss the frown lines from his forehead, but the charged words that had snuck out before, in the heat of the moment, lingered between them, unacknowledged and formidable now that the post-sex haze had officially passed. “I’ll call you after. Try and get some real sleep.”

  Park nodded again, clearly holding back whatever it was he wanted to say.

  Cooper was dressed and almost out the door when he stopped him.

  “Cooper?” Park was sitting up in bed, the sheets gathered in his lap and his hair was sticking up absurdly. He looked rumpled, well-fucked and, just for a moment, something else. Some other sharp and urgent expression that looked like surprise was twisting his face. Why? Because he couldn’t believe he was acquiescing to this potentially risky plan? Because he hadn’t expected to trust Cooper? Or that Cooper would take advantage of their ongoing argument to get his way?

  It was too late to ask. In a heartbeat the look was gone, cleared to his old, unreadable, politely blank mask. “If Daugherty says anything about me—” He stopped himself and shook his head as if he hadn’t meant to say that. “Will you tell me what Daugherty says?”

  “Of course,” Cooper said. He waited, but Park offered no explanation. So with a nod he left, the image of Park lingering in his mind. He was already driving away when Cooper realized the urgent expression hadn’t been surprise at all. It had been panic.

  * * *

  He pulled into the driveway and checked the address. Stephen’s house was small and a bit chaotic-looking, but pretty. The sort of house Cooper could see himself wanting to buy tomato plants to keep on the porch for and spending all his free time in acrimonious dispute with groundhogs that started as a joke until it wasn’t. A shed to the side was painted to look like a woodland scene, and he vaguely remembered Stephen had married an artist.

  He pulled out his phone and considered texting Park, if for no other reason than to make sure the ringer didn’t go off in the trunk and then he’d have to kill the guy.

  Suddenly, the passenger door opened. Cooper jumped in his seat, heart racing wildly as Stephen slipped inside, looking more grim and serious than ever before.

  “Jesus, you scared me.” Cooper released the Taser he’d grabbed for and left it holstered at his hip.

  Stephen watched the movement shrewdly. “So it’s true. BSI.”

  Stephen must have been looking into him. Maybe he’d asked Dean. What was the name of that department your brother transferred to again? Or maybe he’d reached out across the werewolf network, floating their names. Cooper focused on not flinching when he thought about what Stephen might have heard through that.

  He opened his hands wide. “Sorry. I told you I knew everything, though.”

  “And I said you don’t. Not everything.” Stephen shook his head and looked away.

  “You’re right. This”—Cooper gestured between them—“came as a total shock. Does Dean know?”

  “No. Of course not.”

  “What do you mean, ‘of course’?”

  “Does Dean know what you do?”

  “No, of—”

  Stephen’s face didn’t move. It didn’t need to.

  “That’s different,” Cooper said.

  “You’re right, it is. I’m different from you. I always have been. You just wandered into this world, what, a year ago? Two?” Cooper didn’t answer. “You don’t know everything. And you definitely don’t know how much danger you’re in.”

  “Are you threatening me?”

  “It’s a friendly warning because Dean is the closest thing to a brother I have and I don’t want to see his brother e
nd up a scratching post.”

  Cooper’s hands instinctively covered the scars at his belly. Stephen’s eyes followed the movement and he growled, “Park’s hurt you.”

  “No! God, no. He would never do that. He’s an agent, too. He’s my partner.”

  Stephen’s face turned frustrated. “That doesn’t mean he won’t hurt you. Maybe not intentionally, but he’s sick. He’s struggling.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’ve seen it before. Rose went through the same thing and it, well, it killed her.”

  Cooper gaped for a moment, then leaned forward and whispered, “You think Park is on drugs?”

  His first instinct was to laugh, but then he remembered the weird episode at the party, how tired Park was looking, his extra sleeping and loss of appetite. Even some of his more erratic behavior recently could potentially fit the bill. Primelles had accused Park of being in withdrawal and Cooper hadn’t even registered it, had dismissed it immediately—not Park—but the truth was, anyone could abuse drugs. There wasn’t really any type of person more likely to be an addict over another.

  Still, Cooper’s brain rejected the idea. Aside from his sojourn in jail, they’d been together nearly every waking moment these last few days, even more than usual. Every non-waking moment, too. And before this weekend he’d never seen any of these signs before. That’s part of what had made a simple dizzy spell so alarming. Park had never shown the slightest hint of weakness. And Cooper had seen him in some pretty tight spots over the last four months.

  “No,” he said finally. “I’m sorry, but you’re wrong. I would have noticed.”

  “Not drugs,” Stephen said impatiently. “Rose didn’t use either. Well, she self-medicated with pot, but never touched the hard stuff. When was the last time he changed?”

  “Clothes?” Cooper said dumbly.

  “No, changed. Shifted.”

  “I’m...not sure.”

  Cooper thought about it. Not since they’d gotten to Jagger Valley, certainly. This was the first time Park had really been alone. He’d been sleeping in late, too, not disappearing for his morning “runs.” He’d tried to the first morning, Cooper remembered, but that was when he’d run into Ed. Not in Ann Arbor either. The case had kept them busy during the day, and Cooper had latched on to him during the night, sneaking into his room and trying to work up the nerve to discuss their relationship status.

  “A few days at least? Maybe a week?” Cooper jumped when Stephen hissed. “What? What’s the matter?”

  “You don’t understand how dangerous that is, do you? He’s making himself sick. I could see it as soon as I met him. My six-year-old son could see it, for Christ’s sake. You didn’t notice anything at all?”

  Cooper shook his head, but of course that wasn’t true. “I don’t understand. What are you saying?”

  “We need to do it every day. Miss a day, fine. But a week? I don’t even know how he’s held it together that long. Not only is he hurting himself, but he is going to lose control eventually and hurt anyone unlucky enough to be close by. Like I said, I’ve seen it before. Rose avoided changing, too. She’d push herself as long as she could. Weed took the edge off, but it wasn’t a cure, and eventually she’d...explode.”

  “Why would anyone avoid shifting, though? I thought it didn’t hurt.” Had Park lied to him about that?

  “It doesn’t. Not physically. Not really.” Stephen sighed and looked out the window. He didn’t say anything for a long time. Finally, “How well do you remember my mom?”

  “Umm, not that well,” Cooper hedged, unsure where this was going and unable to think of a single positive thing to say about the woman. “She didn’t leave the house a lot.”

  Stephen smiled briefly, but it was closer to a grimace. “No, she didn’t. She was afraid most of her life, and more importantly, ashamed of what her children were. Werewolves,” he said to Cooper’s look of confusion. “Unnatural. Ungodly.”

  “That’s...not okay,” Cooper said, the understatement of the year. “Why have kids if she hated what she was that much?”

  “Oh, she wasn’t a wolf,” Stephen said, as if that was obvious.

  Cooper stared. “What? I didn’t think that was...what?”

  A bit of the old Stephen that Cooper used to know shined through as he rolled his eyes. “You only need one parent to inherit it. We got our father’s genes. He didn’t tell her about him and left before our first shift. So being werewolves was...a surprise. For all of us. Our mother didn’t take it well.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Cooper didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t even begin to understand how frightening that would be.

  Stephen shrugged. “It is what it is. But Rose hated it. She just wanted to be normal, to be what Mom wanted. So she suppressed it, didn’t shift, and it...well, it ruined her life.” He looked down at his hands in his lap. “Anyway, I can recognize the signs.”

  “Park isn’t like that, though.” Cooper frowned. “He doesn’t hate what he is. He grew up with wolves.”

  “So he’s comfortable talking to you about being a werewolf? He’s changed in front of you before? He’s explained to you why he’s choosing to do serious damage to himself by not shifting for a week?”

  Cooper could imagine what his own face looked like. He turned away, mind reeling with questions, and Stephen was decent enough not to push it. Was Park always like this and he just hadn’t noticed? Was it all the time? Or was he just reluctant to talk about it around Cooper? Was shifting in front of each other something other partners did? Other couples? He had just assumed it was a private thing he wasn’t supposed to see and left it at that. But what if he had said or done something that made Park feel like he couldn’t be himself around him? The thought made him nauseous.

  After a moment Stephen said, “I can’t say for sure why Park is doing what he’s doing. But I can tell you it could hurt you, badly, and it will definitely hurt him. It killed my sister.”

  “I thought Rose died of an accidental overdose.”

  “Technically she did. But that’s not the whole story. I told you she didn’t do hard drugs. She never went near meth before that. The whole blackmail thing made her hate being a werewolf even more, and she hadn’t shifted in almost two weeks. Think about how sick your partner is now. Double it. She was a mess. She would have known her heart was way too weak to start fucking around with methamphetamines.”

  Stephen shook his head definitively. “No. She was either so far gone in her sickness that she didn’t know what she was doing or...it wasn’t an accident. She took her own life.” He exhaled loudly. “And if that’s the case, I blame it on not shifting, too. It completely fucks up your emotions.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Cooper repeated. It felt even more inadequate than before. Inside his mind was whirling. Rose never touched the hard stuff... A flicker of a suspicion started to form.

  “Don’t be sorry. That’s not why I’m telling you this. I’m telling you this so you stay the hell away from Park.”

  That brought back his attention. Cooper pushed aside his musings on the case for now and shook his head. “I can’t do that.”

  Stephen looked angry. “Fine.” He reached for the car door handle. “I said what I needed to be able to look your brother in the eye when something happens to you.”

  “Stephen, wait—” Cooper hesitated, but there was nothing he could say to make Stephen happy. Not without destroying his own happiness. He leaned into the backseat, reaching for the stuffed white horse there. “Your son left this at the party yesterday.”

  Before he could straighten back in his seat, he felt Stephen’s fingers rest lightly on his throat.

  Cooper froze. His pulse picked up and his stomach cramped viciously. All it took was one claw to extend, as easy as stretching for a wolf. He couldn’t lose thirty percent of his carotid and walk away with a scar
and some vitamins.

  “What are you doing?” he said tightly, the words slurred as he tried to not move his jaw.

  He heard slight sniffing, then Stephen’s fingers slid down his neck and pulled the collar of his shirt to the side a bit revealing the red skin where Park had bitten him.

  “You’re sleeping with him.”

  Cooper jerked away. He threw the horse at Stephen and it bounced off his chest and fell to the car floor. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I should have guessed last night, the way he was claiming you.” Stephen shook his head.

  “Claiming—? That’s not—Park isn’t interested in that,” Cooper stuttered.

  “I know what I saw. But if that’s why you won’t walk away, I suggest you find a new novelty fuck. I’m sure a BSI agent gets plenty of offers.”

  “That’s not what this is!” Cooper yelled, outraged and disgusted. His words echoed in the car, and even Stephen seemed taken aback. He lowered his voice. “I’m not with him because of that.”

  “Does he know that?”

  “Of course he does.”

  Didn’t he? Why wouldn’t he? Did it really need saying? Park knew that he...what? Loved him in bed? Nowhere else, though. Cooper had been so paranoid about not letting his feelings show, he hadn’t considered that he could come across as, well, cold. Uninterested. It hadn’t occurred to him that acting like he was only in it for the job and the sex might make it seem like he was only in it for the job and the sex. It sounded like first-grade logic when put like that, but felt like the most complicated problem he’d ever faced.

  Was he unintentionally hurting Park? Was this the reason, or part of the reason, he was hurting himself by not shifting? How had Cooper not noticed that before? How could he not know what was happening to the person he was closest to in the whole—

  He stopped. There was that feeling again. That suspicion that had flitted through his mind as only a fledgling before was growing, taking shape, and asking questions. This time he held on to it, thinking. The real mystery was not who had motive to murder Hardwick, for the same reason it wasn’t who murdered West. They were both secondary to the original crime. The very first murder.

 

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