by Eve Langlais
“Sorry. Something about her drives me a little batty.”
“Isn’t she the same girl you crushed on in high school?”
“You remember that?” He winced. Had he been that obvious?
“You had her picture ripped out of the yearbook by your nightstand.”
Embarrassment had his face hot and ready to explode. “So what if I liked her?”
“Liked? You were obsessed. If you hadn’t gone into the army, I have no doubt that she’d have had you arrested for stalking.”
Dominick grimaced. “I don’t understand what it is about her that makes me act like a jerk.”
“Must have been love at first sight,” Stefan mocked.
Love? Never.
They pulled into the driveway for their house and spilled out of the car. Mom was on the porch, arms wrapped around herself.
“Dominick, thank God. You have to find your brother.” She seemed a little frantic.
“I’m sure he’s fine. The boy’s probably tripping in the woods. It’s a guy thing. Remember when I did it?” He’d found some mushrooms. The magic kind. Spent a night thinking he was a giant cat, hunting in the woods.
“I do recall, and it was just as frightening,” she yelled. “So don’t remind me!”
His brows rose. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. Find your brother!” Mom had gone past the point of scared into panic.
He hated seeing her like this, which was why he folded her into his arms and murmured, “Don’t worry. We’ll find him.”
And then he was going to beat the crap out of his brother for scaring Mom.
“Which way?” he asked Stefan.
“In the woods, past the bridge over the creek, at least according to Ray.”
“Where is Ray?” He didn’t see his other brother often, as he spent most of his time in the basement.
“He’s got some drones in the air, scanning for Tyson.”
Well, shit. That would be helpful.
With a direction, Dominick loped across the field, headed for the woods. The same forest where Pammy had almost lost a leg because of a trap. An animal trap. Someone poaching on their land.
Despite installing hunt cams in the area around the metal jaws, which they’d replaced, minus the spring to launch them, they’d yet to capture the culprit.
And now, Tyson wandered in that same expanse of trees. A teen oblivious to the dangers. Perhaps injured. What if he’d had a blackout episode like Dominick did? Some drugs could make people do stupid shit—like think they could fly or breathe underwater.
No wonder his mom freaked. Was this how she’d felt each time he’d done something stupid? As it occurred to him just how bad this could be, Dominick moved faster, more worried than he would have ever admitted out loud.
Shit, he must be getting old.
The path in the woods, worn bare of weeds by regular walks, was barely visible. The moon was only a crescent. He saw well enough to navigate, long strides eating up the ground, his brother only a step behind him.
When his phone rang, he pulled it out with one hand and kept moving. “Yup.”
Raymond was on the line. “Keep on the path. The last known location of his phone is by the creek where it splits.”
“We gonna talk about the fact you’ve hacked our location services on our phones?” he asked.
“Nope.” Ray kept his reply short.
“It’s illegal.”
“Yup.”
“You ain’t gonna stop, are you?” he asked.
“Nope.” Ray didn’t apologize.
“Have the drones seen anything?” Those little mechanical fuckers had saved a lot of lives when he was on missions. They could discern traps and locate items of interest, saving time while hunting.
“Forget the drones.”
“Stefan said you deployed a pair.”
“I did. One got taken out by a bird, and the other malfunctioned,” Raymond groused.
“Poor Ray, lost his toys,” Dominick taunted. His brother always did like electronics more than people.
Rather than reply, Raymond counted down. “Reaching the spot in five, four, three…”
A pace and then another before he stumbled to a halt.
“Fuck,” Stefan muttered what he thought.
They’d found the phone, amidst the shreds of his brother’s clothes. The shirt stretched and clawed. Pants and boxers on the ground. Shoes, too.
And beside it all, a familiar green baggie, along with a package of rolling papers.
10
“He’s fucking tripping in the woods,” Dominick bellowed. “That fucking moron. I am going to throttle him.”
“Shut up. If Tyson hears you, he’ll hide. And if he hides, we can’t go home to our nice comfy beds.” Mom would kill them if they left Tyson out overnight.
Dominick wasn’t done bitching, though. “Even if we find him, we can’t bring him home, not while he’s higher than those dudes who lick those frogs. Daphne shouldn’t be seeing that kind of shit.” Someone had to look out for his littlest sister.
Stefan rolled his eyes. “You do know that Daffy plays war games online?”
“What? Shouldn’t she have like dolls or makeup or a playhouse or something?”
His brother winced. “How have you lived this long around women and not been murdered for the shit you say?”
Dominick pursed his lips. “Most of them haven’t understood a word I’ve said.” It made things easier. Talking led to him putting his foot in it. Just ask Anika.
Raymond was still on the phone, and he interjected. “Hello, shouldn’t you be finding our little brother?”
That brought a deep sigh. “This is so not how I wanted this evening to end.”
Yet it did, with him walking the woods, in the dark, the a baggie of weed in his pocket. Just how potent could it be? Marijuana usually gave a mellow buzz. It calmed him, which was why he used to smoke it. But it took only one bad batch for him to quit. Could it be that Tyson got hit by the same kind of crap?
He pulled the bag free and sniffed it.
Something tickled his nose. Barely enough to notice.
He unsealed the bag, and the nicest aroma rose from it. He stuck his nose right in for a deeper whiff.
Smiled.
It didn’t smell like weed, more like the most delicious thing in the world. He could have rolled in the stuff. It made him feel so good.
Rawr.
He shook his head as a noise burst from him. Startling, but not enough to distract from all the scents around him.
How had he not noticed the various aroma trails before? He turned his head left and right, tracing smells to their origin. Tree. Bush. Leaf. Poop.
Tyson.
More poop.
Wait, Tyson?
He pivoted to where he smelled it, something that reminded him of his brother. He followed, weaving through the trees, each deep breath diminishing the scent. Removing his warm glow.
The rumbling discontent within returned full force.
Without questioning if it was a good idea, he stuck his head in the dope bag for another sniff.
Instant feel-good and a languorous, loose-limbed sensation. His deciphering of smells sharpened, and he loped after Tyson’s scent until it stopped at the base of a tree.
He glanced upward.
Way up.
Amidst the branches, he saw eyes glinting at him.
“Tyson?”
The reply was a growl, more animal than teenage boy.
“Stop fucking around and come down.”
“Raw-rr.” Another rumble of sound, and he began to wonder if perhaps it wasn’t his brother.
Or could it be that Tyson tripped so hard he couldn’t remember how to speak? He’d known guys in the military who’d gone on some wild hallucinogenic rides. Just look at Dominick, who remembered nothing of the last two times he’d smoked dope.
“Are you my brother or not?” He eyed the tree and then the branches. Sighed. He hat
ed climbing. For a second, he considered taking another whiff but thought better of it.
He leapt for the lowest branch and grabbed hold, swinging his legs up to then flip and straddle it.
It wasn’t until he stood, close to the trunk to grab another higher limb, that the thing above growled.
Low and rumbly. It didn’t resemble his brother one bit, and yet the scent didn’t lie. Faint, but unmistakable. Dominick always had a thing about pegging people by their smell.
Mom was a mixture of raspberry and honey. Stefan, pine trees in winter. Tyson had a hint of cinnamon with vanilla.
He moved up another branch then another. It sent the thing above scrambling, moving higher.
But just when he thought he had it cornered, it leapt to a different tree.
“Fucker.”
It took him a while to climb back down. By the time he did, whatever he’d chased was gone.
He eyed the bag of dope and thought about seeing if he could find it again. Better not, because if that was Tyson, the green shit had obviously severely messed him up.
Rather than chase, he retraced his steps to the creek and the clothes. He kept his pace slow. Took plenty of breaks. Sensed he wasn’t alone but never turned to look behind him.
He one-hand-texted his brother. Stay away from the fork. Think he’s following me. He thumbed off the sound lest he startle the follower.
At the creek with the ruined clothes, he sat down, his back against a tree, and waited.
Heard the wind lightly whistling through the branches. The soft burble of the creek. The barely heard crack of a step on loose debris.
It took a long while before it got close enough for him to hear breathing. Short huffs.
He kept his eyes closed, hands on his thighs, sitting lotus-style—a relaxation technique taught by one of his shrinks.
It didn’t relax him, but it helped him focus when he needed to have patience.
Like now. A body settled over his lap, smelling of Tyson but…something about it felt wrong.
He placed his hand on fur.
What the fuck?
11
As he jumped, the furry body leapt from his lap. Dominick reached for his knife, wishing he’d brought a gun. The beast hit the ground and rolled. The area grew dark as a cloud crossed over the moon, meaning he couldn’t see, but Dominick could hear.
A yowl and then a yell.
“Ow. Fuck. What the hell?” Despite the gloom, his brother’s shape became suddenly distinct, on his hands and knees, head hanging, naked as the day he was born.
Dominick must have been sleeping and imagined the fur because that was most definitely Tyson.
His about-to-be-severely-grounded brother.
“You!” Dominick pointed. “You worried Mom by disappearing.”
His brother turned a wan face in his direction. “What happened?”
“Don’t play dumb. I know you went into my room and stole those drugs you had mailed to the house in my name.”
“What?” Tyson rocked back on his heels and noticed his nudity. “Where are my clothes?”
Dominick pointed. “On the ground. Where you left them. When you got high!”
With each punctuated statement, Tyson winced. “I thought it was weed.”
“What do you mean thought? You ordered it.”
Tyson shook his head. “Nah. That shit isn’t mine. I usually get it from a guy at school.”
“How did you know I had it then?” Because he’d hidden it under his pillow.
“Found it when I stripped your bed for Mom.”
“And stole it!”
“Borrowed,” Tyson corrected. “I meant to put it back before you got home from work, but…” Tyson looked down. “Guess I smoked a little too much and lost track of time.”
“You think?” Fuck going soft on him. The boy needed to learn a lesson.
“I’m sorry,” was his choked whisper.
“You will be. Because you do know you made Mom cry.”
Tyson cried, too, when he was reunited with her. She rushed from the house the minute Dominick brought his brother across the field.
Rather than follow them inside, he paused and waited for Stefan to join him.
“Where did you find him?” his brother asked.
“I didn’t. He found me.”
“Did he say what happened?”
“This.” Dominick dangled the bag, and the overwhelming urge to sniff it almost snapped his control. “But he claims he wasn’t the one to buy it.”
Stefan lifted his hands. “Don’t look at me. I’m a drinker and a cigarette smoker. I don’t do drugs.”
“Whatever it is, it’s not pot.” Dominick had no idea what it was other than delicious-smelling and potent. How else to explain his sensation in the woods that he was a mighty hunter able to discern scent like a dog.
“Maybe it’s oregano,” Stefan joked.
Could oregano make him imagine a huge cat in his lap instead of his brother?
“I doubt oregano made Tyson strip.”
“You should give it to Raymond. He knows people who can analyze it. Maybe it’s some new street drug.”
Maybe.
Whatever it was, it had highly addictive attributes, which was why he was happy to hand it off to his brother. And then he went to bed.
After all, he was supposed to work in the morning.
He was fired by noon.
12
Anika woke the next morning and stretched. No alarm. No work today. Most people got weekends off. Anika got Wednesday and Friday. Which suited her just fine.
Dominick had said she’d see him today.
She hadn’t yet decided what to do about him. Or what she thought about what’d happened.
Not being the type to indulge in casual affairs, she had no idea what last night meant.
Did it mean anything?
They’d exchanged no promises. On the contrary, she’d barely let him speak, mostly fearing he’d say something stupid.
Could she believe him when he said that he was drawn to her? As if she had the power to addle someone’s wits. Still, there was something heady about a man like him admitting that he had a weakness for her.
And he was incredibly talented with his tongue.
She shivered deliciously and almost stayed in bed to masturbate. However, she didn’t know when to expect him, which meant she spent the morning cleaning and switching out her sheets.
He didn’t call.
Didn’t show up.
A log in to the work portal online showed him slated to work until dinner. She spent the afternoon baking. Then she bathed, taking time to shave and pluck to the point her skin throbbed. It had been a while since she’d tended her garden.
Dinnertime came.
He didn’t.
She ate alone. It was quite excellent. A raspberry walnut salad with a grilled chicken breast and riced cauliflower.
The evening ticked along. It would be an understatement to call herself disappointed.
She’d just resigned herself to spending it alone when a knock sounded at the door.
Her heart stopped beating.
He’s here.
She smoothed her hair and took a deep breath.
With butterflies in her belly, she opened the door with a smile, only to gasp in shock.
“You’re not supposed to be here.”
Thomas shoved her inside and kicked the door shut. “Expecting your boyfriend?”
“I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“Lying whore. I saw him leave your place last night.”
“You were spying on me?” Anika gasped.
“Fuck yeah, I was. Because I know you’re holding out on me.” His eyes had red streaks. His hair appeared unwashed. “Give me your cash.”
“Are you insane? What cash? You took everything plus some.”
“Where’s the rest?”
“There is nothing else,” she cried. “Now get out, or I’m calling the cops.”
She moved for her phone on the kitchen counter, but he lunged for her. Grabbed her. Slammed her into the wall hard enough that her teeth clacked.
His gaze wild, Thomas snarled, “I need money.”
“I have nothing. Leave me alone.” She struggled in his grip. While he’d never hit her before, he didn’t seem balanced tonight. His fingers dug into her arms, and she smelled alcohol on his breath.
“Where’s your bank card? What’s your code?”
Before she could tell him to go fuck himself, that he wasn’t getting the eleven dollars and eighty-five cents in her account, there was another knock on her door.
Both their gazes slewed toward it.
“Annie, it’s me.”
Dominick.
Her lips parted, only to have Thomas slap a hand over her mouth as he shushed her.
She glared at him.
“Don’t you fucking say a word,” he breathed.
Like hell. She solidly bit him.
“Argh, you bitch.” Releasing her mouth, he wound back his fist.
“Help!” she shrieked.
The door smashed open as Dominick entered.
Big. Bad. And pissed.
Thomas never managed to land the blow because Dom moved too fast. One second, he was kicking open her door. The next, he was tossing Thomas across the room.
Before her ex could get up, Dom had stalked over and hauled him up by the shirt. Brought his face close and said, “Do you want to die?”
“You can’t threaten me,” Thomas gasped.
“Actually, I fucking can, you coward. Going after a woman.” Dom shook him. “Let me make this clear for you. If you come anywhere near Annie again, you will die.”
“Hurt me, and I’ll have you arrested,” Thomas choked.
“I won’t hurt you because I don’t have to. I hear the Mason brothers are looking for the person who stole their shipment.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Dom’s smile was cold as he said, “Feel free to tell them that when they’re torturing you for its location.”
Thomas’s eyes widened. “You can’t fucking blackmail me.”
“Yeah, I can. So, you decide. Is harassing your ex-wife more important than your fingers and toes? How attached are you to your kneecaps?”