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Pig Meat

I have self-respect. I swear. But as I order a large chocolate milkshake and fries from the drive-through window over the lap of Officer Straw—Jeremy Straw—I question if my feminist ideals about equality have brought me too close to the sun. When he suggested this fast-food car date, I should have requested more, but I can’t be too picky. I am only doing this to get information from him.

“I’m so glad you called,” Jeremy says before shoving a handful of fries in his mouth, unaware of the chocolate smeared near the corner of his lip.

I take a sip of my milkshake, studying him in his navy blue uniform. His tight shaved head, his muscular form, the blocky set of his jaw—he’s attractive, no doubt, but his looks only carry him so far. I wish we had met up at a bar or a restaurant where I could order a drink. I like him a hell of a lot better with alcohol swimming through my veins.

I smile, remembering my mission, even if he seems pleased under my scrutinizing gaze. “Yeah, I’ve missed hanging out. I’ve just been so busy.”

He nods, staring out at the dark expanse of woods on the other side of his windshield. We’re parked in his cop car at the far end of an abandoned parking lot near the Burger Blast. “I get it. We’re so short-staffed at the station. That’s why I could only meet up during my shift.”

Perfect. He’s bringing up work. Now, it won’t seem weird when I question him. I reach over, running my long, red fingernails over the stubble on his head. He leans into it, closing his eyes. Ugh, men are so easy. They’re like literal puppy dogs. All they need is for you to scratch their balls and fill their bellies, and they’ll roll over.

“Why has the station been so busy? Anything unusual?” I lean closer so my breath tickles his ear. My questioning is a little on the nose—especially considering he knows I’m a reporter, but he’s lost in my touch. He leans against the headrest, eyes closed, and lips parted. “Same old, same old,” he replies.

Well, shit. I’m not here for same old, same old.

“Oh, boring,” I say in a whiny tone. Maybe he’ll offer more if he thinks it can impress me.

He chuckles. “I wouldn’t say it’s boring.”

I lean in closer, crawling over the middle console so my rouged lips are near his ear. “Captured any psychopaths recently?”

His eyes open, and he turns to me, grabbing the back of my neck. “You girls always love to hear the exciting details.”

Yes, perfect. I need him to think of me as a regular thrill-seeking girl. Honestly, he’s probably forgotten that I’m a reporter, but I don’t mind. Not in the slightest because now, hopefully, he won’t have his guard up and will give me the information I’m searching for.

I lean my weight onto one elbow, bringing my other hand to his chest. He’s wearing a thick vest, but I press hard, slowly lowering my hand. “What can I say? I could never do your job. Putting myself in the line of danger every day to defend the innocent? It’s noble but scary. I bet it’s so exciting, though.” I might be laying on the act a little thick, but with my hand nearing his slacks, I bet the words seem like the perfect caress to his ego.

He shrugs, his eyes droop. “It has its exciting days, and it has its days like this, sitting alone in a cop car waiting for something to happen.”

I trace the thick outline of his cock under his belt. He hisses. “Oh, so is this a boring day for you at the office?”

He smiles, his teeth white and straight. “This is an exception.” His breath is heavy, and I toy with his outline. I can’t deny I’m enjoying playing with him—watching him melt into my touch, all while wearing his uniform in a place I’m not supposed to be. Sure, I’m doing this for the greater good, but it doesn’t hurt that Straw has a massive cock and a pretty face to look at while he breathes into me. “Oh, so you don’t usually have women in your cop car?”

I mean it as a flirty probe, but Straw tenses, pulling away from my lips to study me. “I don’t…”

I lay my hand on his chest. “I’m only joking.”

His concern melts, and he smiles, a stupid, boyish, charming smile. I bet he’s gotten away with murder with it. “Oh, okay.” He leans in, pressing his lips against mine and pushing his tongue into me. It’s sloppy and desperate, but I can’t deny that it’s nice. It’s been a while since an attractive man has kissed me. I’m not here to make out with him. In fact, I explicitly told everyone I could get information without sleeping around, but I’m not the kind of girl to deprive myself of delicious man meat when it’s thrown at me.

I kiss him back, my hand returning to his rock-hard body, trailing to the warm heat between his legs. He pulls away from my lips, spreading his legs wide and working at his belt buckle. The kissing didn’t last long. I’d hope he’d touch me more before pulling his dick out, although the thought of blowing a cop in his patrol car sends a flush of liquid to my core that probably won’t get attended to. Straw isn’t the most generous lover, but I’m in a mood and a woman who loves gobbling some dick, even if I don’t get the favor returned.

He springs free, hard and long, only visible from the light offered by the full moon. He brings his lips back to me, kissing me hungrily. I appreciate he doesn’t just sit there and watch me until I feel so inclined to take him in my mouth. That always kills the mood. He’s a fucking great kisser. He nips at my lips, tasting as if he doesn’t care about displaying any reserve, as if he’s so into this and doesn’t mind showing it. It makes me eager to please, so I rub my palm over a dollop of the precum formed at his tip. He moans into my mouth as I roll my hand down his length, luxuriating in the feel of his velvety skin in my hand.

“Fuck, Carmen,” he says, pulling away from my lips and resting his forehead against mine—his eyes clamp shut as if to restrain himself. It’s hot—all of this. The fact that he could get in so much trouble if we were discovered only makes me wetter. Why haven’t I tried to live out this fantasy sooner?

I pull away, leaning over his lap. He sits back, too ready to have my lips on his cock. I grab his base with one hand, and with the other, I find the heat underneath my skirt. I’m not embarrassed to get myself off. I’m slick, and my fingers slide through me easily. I moan over his dick before placing a soft kiss on his tip.

“Fuck, Carmen. You’re always so good at this.”

I haven’t even started, but I appreciate the encouragement. I roll my lips over him, taking him in slowly to build the anticipation. He runs his hands through my hair, working his strong fingers against my scalp. I’d rather feel his fingers in my cunt, but this is nice too. I strum away at myself, circling my clit gently as I take him deeper.

“Oh, God,” he moans with a hiss.

I work faster on both of us, bobbing up and down as his hold on my hair grows tighter, less scratching and more pulling. I fucking love it, actually. I rub my clit harder and faster, growing closer to my edge. A thought bubbles in my brain. Wasn’t I here to find out about the kidnappings? Wouldn’t it be a better idea to find out information before sucking his dick so I had something to tempt him with? Oops. I can’t go back now.

I grab his balls, feeling them clench in my hand as I take him deeper. I slow my tempo as my orgasm washes over me, and I moan with his cock still deep in my mouth. He sputters into me, cum coating my throat. I flinch, shocked by the sudden burst. I thought that the break in tempo would have held him off more so I could prepare myself, but he must have gotten off from the sight of me coming with his dick in my mouth.

I sit up, making a disgusted face as I swallow his cum. It’s warm, thick, and unpleasant tasting, but I swallow like a champ and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. Thankfully, he’s not paying attention to me. He works on stuffing himself back in his pants. “Fuck, it’s always so hot that you get off from blowing me.” He leans over and kisses my cheek.

He misses my scrunched expression. “Yeah, that’s what happened.” I chuckle.

His radio buzzes to life as if sent from the gods to erase an impending uncomfortable silence. “Dispatch, this is 543. Be advised, we have a possible 187 at a secluded residence off Pine Hollow Road, approximately 2 miles north of Route 47. Suspected murder victim inside the residence. Requesting immediate backup and crime scene unit. Proceed with caution. Over.”

“Shit,” Straw says, gritting his teeth.

My heart hammers, pulling my skirt down and taking in my surroundings outside the car. “Pine Hollow is right down the road.”

“I’ll take you home. Someone else will assist.” He pulls the seatbelt over his chest.

“No bother, I want to go.” I grab the door handle and swing it open. There’s no chance he’s driving me to the crime scene. I’ll walk the five minutes before he has time to argue.

“Carmen, no!” he yells after me, but I’m already out of his car, slamming his door in his face. “I bet he remembers I’m a reporter now,” I say to myself, rubbing at the thin material of my sweater as I walk to the dirt road ahead.

“Unit 5-Charlie-11 to Unit 2-Adam-12, I’m in the area and moving in on foot. Should be on scene in two minutes. Over.”

I smile to myself as Straw runs up behind me, crunching the dead leaves underfoot. “Go back to the car and wait for me,” he orders.

I turn around, walking backward and holding my wrists up. “What are you going to do? Arrest me?” I smirk. “I bet you’d love to see me in your handcuffs.” I don’t miss the way his pupils blow out from my words, even if his expression strains.

“You’re going to get me in trouble,” he grits through clenched teeth.

“You didn’t seem to care too much about getting into trouble a few minutes ago.” I wink and turn back around. “Don’t worry. I won’t say we came together. You should probably arrive in your patrol car to avoid making it look suspicious.”

“I’m not going to let you walk through the woods by yourself to a murder crime scene. I don’t know if they’ve caught the suspect.” He sounds sincere and genuinely concerned for my safety. Cute. But more than that, I’m assuming he’s unaware of the culprit in this murder. He’s too dumb to lie well. The victim could be anyone, but I'm guessing it's a werewolf because the house is in a desolate area. I can’t let the panic and sorrow overtake me yet. I must keep on with my cutesy, oblivious act until I see what has happened for myself. Maybe he doesn’t know anything about the Hunters' plans, but there’s no way to tell until I can watch him on the scene.

“You don’t need to worry about me, Straw. I can take care of myself.”

“Shit, you’re fast.” He grunts from behind me, trying to catch up with my strides. He’s muscular, but I’m a werewolf, a fact he’s unaware of. I could run laps around him, but I need to slow down not to make him suspicious. If he is working with the Hunters, he’s not oblivious to our existence, and I don’t want to make myself known.

Some of the police force knows about the Weres. Much like our Human Liaison, there’s a similar status in the police force. It seems this title belongs to Brick now. Only he and a few stone-faced men under him know about our kind. I’m assuming Straw isn’t high enough up at the station to be privy to my supernatural powers, but maybe he’s just been playing dumb this whole time. I doubt it, but it would make him hotter if he were.

Emergency lights shine in the near distance. A house comes into view just a few steps down the hill. I don’t recognize it, but it’s not a surprise. Weres are secretive about their residence, even with their pack, and especially with the Human Liaison family. My racing heart can’t take my pretend speed. I pick up my pace, not enough to raise suspicion, but leaving Straw behind me.

Only two police cars are parked out in the front. They weren’t kidding when they said they needed backup, or maybe they don’t want a big crowd here. A few other unmarked cars are in the driveway: an ambulance, a coroner, and perhaps family members’ vehicles. I assess quickly, my eyes darting subtly as I march closer to the house's entrance. I can’t bring attention to myself by gawking. I keep my gaze low, trying not to meet anyone’s eyes. I nearly step over a fresh hoof print, but I don’t stop to examine it. A horse whinnies nearby, and a police officer pats the mare’s back. Okay, so there are police horses here. That doesn’t mean anything to me yet.

I make my way inside, no one noticing my presence. I have no fucking idea where Straw is. Probably still stumbling down that hill. It helps that the crime scene is fresh and so few people are on location. No one has time to pay attention to me.

I gasp once I’m only a few steps into the house entryway, covering my mouth as I stare at Jessica’s lifeless body on the rug parallel to the front door. It takes five seconds to take it all in: her slashed throat, her motionless eyes, the bloodied fingertips—Hunters did this, no doubt. Tears cloud my vision. I wasn’t close to the girl. She was about five years my junior, but I always liked her. She reminded me of myself—never backing down, never staying quiet. I can’t help but wonder if that’s why she’s here without a pulse instead of disappeared.

I scan around me, not missing the puddle of blood a few feet away from her. I’m hoping it belongs to the prick that did this to her. Although I’d much rather she be alive, a part of me revels in the fact that she fought and can only hope she made someone pay.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” A human wall steps before me, and a shadow looms overhead. My skin pricks at the sound of his voice. I know who it is immediately, but it still takes me two seconds to scan up the expanse of his broad body to meet his smokey grey eyes staring down at me. His ash brown hair differs from its usual well-kept combed-back look. It’s loose and free and shows its true wavy texture. It takes two seconds to take in his unsettled energy. I just wonder the reason for his unease.

I swallow a knot in my throat and smile, pushing down my sorrow. “Brick, how ya’ doing?”

His eyes blaze something furious, his hands clench at his side, a small notebook crushed as a result. “Carmen, what the fuck are you doing at my crime scene?” He scans me, reaching my short black skirt. He sucks in a sharp breath and clenches his eyes.

“Carm…” Straw trails from behind. I whip to the doorway to see him out of breath, eyes wide as he catches Brick staring him down over the top of my head. I turn back to Brick, his jaw twitching under his strain as he holds Officer Straw in place with his murderous gaze.

Blood and gore surround me, but I can’t help but smile at Brick’s obvious unease. I cross my arms over my chest. “Brick, I was…” I don’t finish my sentence. Brick grabs my arm and yanks me out the front door, pushing past Straw. “Fucking take evidence pictures. Don’t leave before we speak,” Brick yells at Straw as he points one massive finger in his direction, his other hand probably leaving marks on my forearm.

I can’t find a reaction to the sudden assault until I’m out in the cool night air, moonlight shining overhead. Brick releases me and I rub at the sore spot. “What the fuck?” Anger finds its footing in my veins.

Brick crouches to my eye level, now wielding the monstrous finger at me. “No, explain why you are here.”

Letting my lashes lower, I deliver a searing look. Sure, Brick is always a prick, especially to me for some reason, but he’s never touched me and usually shows his distaste with a huff and an eye roll. He’s fuming, staring at me as if I’m his petulant child who nearly ran into the road. It makes me all the more suspicious of him. Maybe I just caught him red-handed, and he’s shitting bricks thinking he’s about to get caught. Ha ha. Brick shitting bricks.

I cross my arms, taking a calming breath, not missing the twitch at his temple as if my ease upsets him further. “I work for the public, Bricky. It’s my duty to investigate for the public’s interest.”

He shakes his head, clenching his jaw tighter. “No, you’re in the way. We need to collect evidence without the presence of the public.” He steps closer, lowering his lips to my ear. His words strain through his teeth. “Don’t you want justice for her? Don’t let the murder of one of your own end in a mistrial.”

I step away from him. The heat of his body already soaking into mine, roasting my insides. “I didn’t plan to touch anything!” I yell.

He ignores me, cornering me further. “Tell me how you knew about this so quickly.”

His eyes hold me in accusation. Does he think I have inside information about this murder? That I could know who did it? It would be stupid of him to assume that. He knows from my years of bugging him in his office to get his ass working on bringing my people justice where my loyalty lies. But just to make sure, I offer him the truth. “I was with Straw when it came over his radio.” Sorry, Straw, but greater good and all.

My revelation makes him anything but calmer. “With Straw? Doing what?” He nearly backs me into a tree.

I push him away from me, using my wolf strength to propel him an impressive distance. He may be a foot taller than me, but I’m a werewolf. He can’t make me feel small unless I let him. It’s like he’d forgotten what I was for a moment because his eyes widen a tiny bit as he regains his footing. But the heat and fury only take seconds to return to his pupils, and he steps closer again. At least this time, giving me a breath of room. “Are your officers not allowed to be in the presence of their citizens, Sergeant?”

“Carmen, this wouldn’t be the first time you distracted my men from their jobs.”

My mind plays back to the few instances Officer Straw and Wood came in handy for me when I needed information on a story. There was also that one time I fucked Wood in the coat closet at the country club in his uniform, and a few people witnessed us coming out together. I bet that got back to Brick somehow. Considering both men still have jobs, I guess it wasn’t too much of an issue for Brick. Or Brick has some dirty secrets he doesn’t want to get out. The latter seems the most likely.

“Jealous?” I taunt, twisting my lips in a smirk.

It’s the wrong thing to say. Brick grabs my wrist, twisting me around and bringing both arms behind my back.

“What the fuck!” I yell as he snaps handcuffs on me. “Are you on your period or something? You can’t be for real.” I struggle, exerting my real strength, but it’s futile. Brick overpowers me. We’ve always suspected Brick was something other than human, but even as I sniff him now, I can’t catch a whiff of wolf. It’s ridiculous. We’ve revealed the fragile identities of our people, and yet we don’t even know who he is. Our mission to end Hunters' cruelty supersedes the unknown of Brick's origins, and up until this point, our pack thought he was on our side. Now that I’m restrained and he’s pushing me deeper into the woods, I realize just how wrong my people’s trust was placed.

“Brick, where the fuck are you taking me?”

He doesn’t answer; he just keeps pushing me along until we’re covered by an expanse of trees and completely out of sight. Shit, maybe I’m the next victim of these strings of Hunter murders.

He whips me around, flinging the air from my lungs. His chest grazes my own, and his grey eyes change to charcoal. I’m unsure if it’s the absence of light in the woods, the moon barely providing any illumination, or if his irises change to match his mood. It seems I know shit about Brick, and these puddles of black might be the last things I see.

His face is a mask of stone. When the words slip from his mouth, I nearly scream, the sound surprising me. “No more messing with my officers. You want information; you come to me.”

Barricaded breath escapes from me. Okay, he’s ordering me around as if I’ll have a tomorrow. It makes me want to punch him across the jaw, but at least I don’t think he’s planning to kill me.

I decide to test my luck further. “You and I both know you never tell me anything. In fact, you always send me away without even listening to my question.”

He takes in a deep breath. “We don’t get along. That’s obvious. You aren’t a lone agent. You have a pack. If they want answers, they can send your brother to ask them.”

I give a pained smile. “My brother’s a little busy.”

“Then they can send someone else.”

God, this man hates me. I fucking hate him, too, but his distaste for me is the reason that’s so. It only makes me more suspicious of him. There’s an energy about him—a buzz that sets my balance off kilter. He’s not the man he’s portraying to be. My instincts scream the truth, but I won’t get anywhere with him now. “Are you arresting me?”

My words startle him just the slightest, and his gaze moves away from my eyes and down my body as if just remembering he put me in handcuffs.

He turns me around and unlocks my chains, but before I’m free, he lowers his head to the shell of my ear. “Not this time, but I mean it. No more fraternizing with my officers. Leave the police work to me and tell Grimm to come to me with questions.”

I can’t tell him the truth—that Grimm and the rest of our pack don’t trust him anymore and that I’m not going to back down and wait for him and the Hunters to murder the rest of our pack. He’s more dangerous than I initially thought. Now, I need to get the fuck away from him and seek out my other source. The fact that Brick doesn’t want me near his men only confirms my suspicion that one of them knows something. Straw seems useless—either oblivious to what’s happening or so well trained that he won’t give it up, but Wood still could be helpful.

My plans run through my mind, but the reality of the situation just steps away washes over me. Jessica is dead. One more of us is gone, and we have failed to protect her. I take a deep breath to ground my sorrow, still facing away from Brick, I clamp my eyes shut. “Why was she killed?” I ask, my voice wobbly.

He sighs, silent for a moment as if considering to divulge me. “It looks like an abduction gone wrong.”

“Like the last one?”

He turns me around, studying me, not getting any further away. “Carmen, you don’t like me, but I need you to trust me. Lie low. Stay away. Let me take care of this.” I can usually tell when people are lying. I can hear their heartbeats speed up, feel their pulse heighten in their veins, and watch as their eyes dart and give them away. As Brick stares down at me, close enough to sense every minuscule movement under his skin, I can’t sense any unease. He appears to be telling the truth, as he honestly believes I should trust him. But I can’t believe my senses with him. He’s obviously not human or werewolf. He goes against everything I know about the world.

“Okay,” I say, hoping he can’t sniff out the lie in me.

He nods, stepping away, and the air lightens immediately. I study him for one final second before I shift. My clothes drop to the forest floor around me, and I shake my black fur free. Brick isn’t alarmed at my transformation. I’ve never shifted in front of him and wonder if any of the other Weres have. There’s nothing to hide and I want to remind him what I am. I’m not just a small woman who can be easily bent. I’m a monster, a force to be reckoned with. Even if he is something else, I’ve faced much worse.

I sprint away from Brick and the carnage. As I get farther and farther away, my questions grow. But damn it if I’m not selfish and frivolous because all I keep thinking about is that I really liked that shirt I was wearing, and now I’m never going to get it back.