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Men are Pigs

T wo fake dates in two nights can make a girl feel one of two ways, either like a sexy international spy seducing foreign threats to their demise or like something a little more desperate. I take another sip of my fruity cocktail so the alcohol can melt my image of myself as the latter.

“I’m so glad you texted,” Wood says, leaning into his palm propped up on the sticky bar counter.

My eyes assess him over the rim of my cocktail glass. He’s less handsome than I remember. Sure, he’s muscular with dark hair and thick eyebrows, but his eyes dart all over, as if he'd rather be in a million other places. I can’t tell if it’s my werewolf senses kicking or if it’s obvious to a regular human, but there’s something untrustworthy about him, something that makes me squirm in my seat. But I’m not here to decide if I like him or even have a nice evening. I’m here to find out what he knows.

After leaving the crime scene last night, I notified Cameron and Grimm about Jessica’s murder. I prepared for a late-night council meeting to discuss the tragic events with the pack, but they suggested we hold off until he had anything that could offer them hope. Thanks to the Hunters’ past attacks, Jessica had no family and didn’t attend the last council meeting. Cameron said he’d work on ensuring all the young women in our pack knew the importance of staying with others. Besides that, they didn’t want to alarm the pack further, not until I had this date and found out something—anything.

I also informed the males of Brick’s suspicious nature. They didn’t say much; they just listened. They seemed comforted when I told them he told me to trust him, but they still had their guards up, as they should. For me, I had a whole militia armed around my trust in that man.

I flash a smile, setting my half-drunk drink on the bar. “I’ve missed you.” I bat my eyelashes and push forward on my crossed arms, hoping my breasts spill out of my low-cut top.

Sure enough, his eyes travel straight to my trap. He stares at my tits for longer than acceptable. Yes, I offered them up to him, but you’d think he’d have the decency to play coy. This will be too easy.

He finally brings his eyes back to mine before grabbing my bar chair and pulling it to his. To his credit, he moves me and my chair as if we were weightless. I mean, I could do the same thing to him, but still, I like a strong man. Definitely not this man, but as the alcohol swims through my veins, he’s growing on me. His lips are inches away from mine, but instead of removing the distance, he yells to the bartender, “Let's get another round over here.”

I smile, contemplating if I should drink more or keep my wits about myself. But as Wood strains in an attempt to show off his biceps, I decide this will be insufferable without one or two more drinks.

Those one or two drinks turn into about five. I’m usually pretty good at restraining myself, but Wood keeps ordering them, and I’m not one to turn down anything free. Before I know it, my head spins, and the edges of reality are light and fluffy. By the grace of some divine entity, I remember the seeds of my mission. I take a small sip of my martini, splashing a bit as I set it on the counter, sticky from the likes of me. “Wood.”

“I told you, call me John.”

I roll my eyes, laugh, and push his shoulder. “Fineee! Okay, John. I have a question.” I hiccup.

Our stools are touching, and I’m nearly seated on his lap. He runs his hands lower down my back, nearly slipping into the hem of my skirt and grabbing my ass. I notice it slightly, but everything is just too funny right now to care. “Tell me, have you ever seen a dead body?” It’s a stupid question. I know that even as I’m clearly drunk, even in my inebriated state, I have a line of questions set up and ready to take a domino effect.

He shakes his head, smiling at me as if I’m an airhead. It annoys me even with the alcohol. “Yes. I’ve seen a dead body.”

I lean in, bringing my lips to his ear. “Did you see the body of that girl who died last night?” I pull back, pretending to look terrified.

He twists his lips, “No, I was across town. I heard it was pretty gruesome.”

“Who do you think did it?” I take another sip of my drink, willing myself to sober up to gauge if he’s lying. Sadly, my powers don’t work as well with alcohol, something I hope a Hunter never discovers. It’s not a side effect for all Weres, but it’s definitely one for me. Of course, perfect Cameron can drink a whole barrel of wine and not even lose a minuscule of his strength.

Wood motions me closer with his finger, and I comply. His breath smells wheaty from his beer. “I think it’s just an old boyfriend. It was a young girl. That’s usually the MO.”

“But there was a girl who just died similarly a few days ago. Do you think it could be a serial killer?”

He eyes me quizzically. “You seem to know a lot about these murders.” He says it so clearly. I eye his drink resting on the bar, realizing it’s still mostly full. I try to remember how many he got for himself, but honestly, my memory is shit right now. I adjust myself in my seat, my legs and leather skirt sticking to the faux leather of the stool. I push his shoulder playfully. “Josh, I’m a reporter, silly. Remember.”

“It’s John.” His expression sags.

“I knew that.” I laugh, rubbing my hand down my face, hoping I’m not smearing my make-up. I’m just drunk.”

He shakes his head with a sigh. “Why don’t we get you home?”

I want to protest. I haven’t discovered anything about what Wood knows, but my investigative skills aren’t up to par right now. In fact, a toddler would be better at investigating things. I decide it’s best to cut my losses and call it a night. Maybe I can count this as a buttering-up session. Wood’s not getting anything tonight, and maybe I turned him on a bit. He’ll want to see me again to seal the deal.

I throw my weight into him, and luckily, he catches me, directing my feet to the ground. He laughs. “Woah, let's get out of here.”

I nod and follow him out of the smoky bar, past the patrons playing pool. The cool night air slaps against my face as we exit. Thankfully, my drunkenness makes the chill stinging my bare legs less painful. I intertwine my arm with Wood's, using him as support as we walk down the sidewalk. I took an Uber here and would likely take one back, but my house isn’t too far away. Wood’s been to my place before, so he knows the way. I’m one of the few werewolves who live closer to the town and not in a cabin in the woods. Everyone already knows who I am, so there’s no point hiding.

Time moves quickly. Wood stops walking straight and turns down an unlit alley. “Where are we going?” I ask, my eyes growing heavy.

“Shortcut,” he replies.

I accept it momentarily, but then he steps and pushes me against the brick wall. His hands run down my front, and his lips crash against mine. The surprise sobers me up a bit, and I close my mouth, turn my head, and push him away. “Come on, Wood. Not now. I’m too drunk.”

“Don’t be a buzzkill,” he whispers into my ear, his hands returning to my breasts. “You look sober enough to blow me.”

No amount of alcohol can mask the ick his words just gave me. I push him again, channeling an ounce of my werewolf strength to get my point across. But even as reality settles over me, I’m still wasted. I’m weak, my powers muted. Shit. “Wood. No. We can hook up another time. Let’s schedule something for next week.” I’m never seeing this pig again, but I’m no idiot. I need to get out of here.

He presses closer, crushing me a little bit, and brings his lips to my ears. “Straw told me you gave him head in his patrol car. You didn’t even ask for anything in return, just got yourself off like a good little slut. I want that, too.”

My heart races and panic swims through me. I’ve never felt this feeling before, weak, helpless. Sure, I’ve been drunk and without powers, but never while being cornered by a man who insists on taking what isn’t his.

I try one last time, adding air to my voice. “Let’s do this back at my place. It’s too cold.”

His hands travel up my thigh. “I’ll keep you warm.” He brings his mouth to mine again. Fuck being coy to get out of this. I bite his lip, hard. I’m pretty sure a fang makes it through. He shrieks, grabbing his face, and I use the opportunity to push him away and sprint in the opposite direction. Trash litters the walkway, and I barely make it a few feet before my foot snags a discarded box, and I tumble to the ground with a scream. I’m pathetic without my powers.

Pain shoots from the knee that took the brunt of the fall. I’m distracted, and as I claw to make my way back to my feet, Wood pushes my back down with his foot.

“Why are you being such a bitch?” He grits angrily.

“A bitch? You’re trying to rape me, jackass!” I yell, hoping someone, anyone, will hear. He drops to his knees, flipping me to my back and covering his hand with my mouth. He glowers over me. “Don’t yell shit like that. Are you playing a game with me?”

I try to tell him no, that if I wanted to fuck him, I’d tell him, but all that comes out is a muffled scream from under his hand. A question pops into my drunk mind, and I use all my strength to wiggle my mouth free to ask it. “Did you do this to Jessica and Lucy? Was it you who murdered them because they wouldn’t fuck you?” I know it was the Hunters, but maybe Wood is working for them and wanted some action on the spot.

His face changes to repulsion. “What? No! I’m not a murderer, and I’m not a rapist. I’ve never met those girls in my life. I’m not raping you. You’ve sucked my dick plenty of times. You’re just playing a game.”

I steady my voice. “John, no, I am not. I do not want you anywhere near me.” I say the words as if I’m saying them to a child, or a man who has never heard the word no in his life.

“Hey, what’s going on here?” It could be the words from the goddamn devil, and I would worship at his feet. A question has never sounded so beautiful. “This jackass is trying to rape me!” I shout.

“Woah, woah, woah.” Wood jumps to his feet and steps away from me, his hands raised in surrender. “Carmen, stop it.” He diverts his attention to the man walking toward us. “We’re just role-playing. We’ve hooked up plenty of times before.”

I grunt, climbing to my feet. “Fuck that! You were trying to rape me, you fucking piece of shit.” I straighten out my skirt and shirt before turning to my savior.

“From my vantage point, it sure looked like you were attacking her.” I notice the accent, and my attention is drawn to the blonde, muscular man now standing mere feet from me. Our eyes lock, and I’m too stunned to speak. “Carmen?” he gets out breathlessly.

I nod, clenching my lips. “And that’s the cop.”

The confusion melts off his face, fury in its place. He moves past me, rushing toward Wood and punching him across the jaw, knocking him to the floor.

“What the fuck?” Wood spits, his lip bleeding even more now.

Kilo drops to a squat. “You fucking come near her again, and I’ll end you.” The lights in the alleyway are low, so I barely make out the subtle shift in Kilo. His black sweater tightens, ripping at the bottom, and snow-white hair juts from the back of his neck and arms. He doesn’t lose control, keeping his transformation at bay.

“What? Is she your girl or something? Sorry to tell you, but you’re dating a slut.”

Kilo chuckles, shaking his head and turning to me. “Do you hear this guy?” he asks me. “It’s like he wants to get fucking killed.” It happens so quickly. He pounces on top of Wood, revealing claws and fangs. He growls, and Wood cries in terror from underneath him. “What the fuck?” he yells.

Kilo switches back to his complete human form. To someone who didn’t know what he was, they’d think they just imagined the shift; it happened so quickly. “Do you need any more convincing how easy I could make you die?”

“Okay, got it!” Wood’s crying now, a blubbering mess. It’s the best thing I have ever seen, and I have half the mind to pull out my phone and record this, but I resist the urge, for Kilo’s sake.

Kilo doesn’t move. “Now, apologize to the lady, and you better make it good.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He boo-hoo cries as if this is years of pent-up sorrow. I can’t suppress my chuckle.

Kilo turns to me. “What do you think?”

I shrug. “It’ll do.”

“You sure? I could bite a finger off for good measure.”

“Tempting, but I just want to go home at this point.” I love the display of justice before me, but I need a bubble bath. I’m filthy, cold, and annoyed.

Kilo pops to his feet. “Let's go.” He intertwines his arm with mine and leads me out of the dirty hallway. “You okay?” he asks, examining me.

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

We walk in silence down the cobblestone street, and I breathe in the fresh air, my mind replaying everything that just happened. Thankfully, my knee only slightly hurts. Fuck, that was scary. New rule: no more drinking with men I don’t trust with my life. It should have already been a rule, but it never worried me until now. I guess you don’t know what to worry about until it happens.

“Want to talk about it?” Kilo asks once several minutes of silence have passed.

I sigh, pushing my hair out of my face. “Not really.”

“Got it.” He stares straight ahead, still holding my arm and walking at a comfortable speed. I pull him as we reach a corner toward my house. He’s silent, heading my request and not pressing more. I kind of hate it. “I just want to say I haven’t slept with that guy in months, okay?”

He gives me a disapproving look. “Don’t defend yourself. I don’t hold a word that pig says to any sort of value.”

“I know, I know. I just wanted to make that clear. I feel like you’ve known me for all of two seconds, and the only information you’ve heard about me is about my ability to sleep around. I’m a fantastic lay, but I’m much more than that, okay?”

He chuckles, the sound foreign after the events of the night. “You’re right. I have known you for a very short time, and I can already tell you are so much more than I think you’re even aware of.”

My cheeks burn, and I can’t help but smile. The compliment is nice, cheesy, but so wonderful after being pushed face-down in a dirty alleyway and nearly being taken advantage of. I can’t even find the words to express my gratitude to him, so instead, I kiss him on the cheek.

He flips his gaze to me, eyes wide, and a smile slowly creeps up his face. It’s a nice smile—bright, white, and genuine. “Thank you,” I say.

“For what?”

I laugh. “For what? You just saved me, and now being way too nice, and I barely even know you.”

“We’re both Weres. We have to stick together. And maybe your irresistible charm and uncanny good looks have something to do with it, too.”

I bark a laugh. “Oh, so if I had a boil, you’d have left me for dead.”

“No! But I probably wouldn’t let you snuggle up to me on your walk home and tell you how beautiful you are.” My damn cheeks heat again. I pull back a bit, realizing I am, in fact, cuddling up to him. It’s fucking cold, and he also smells nice and feels nice. Besides, I’m still a little drunk, which reminds me, “By the way! I’m usually pretty fucking powerful! I could have taken that dick with my eyes closed if my brain wasn’t inebriated.”

He laughs. “I know. You don’t have to tell me you're drunk. I can tell.”

“You can not tell! I’m so good at acting sober.” I walk in front of him, doing a twirl before nearly tripping and falling to my ass. He rushes to my side, pulling me up at the last second. I laugh at myself for making this guy save me yet again. “Okay, maybe I should just shut up and stop.”

“You’re fine. You should be allowed to drink. Men should be here to care for you, not hurt you.”

“I can take care of myself, thank you very much.” It’s a stupid thing to say because, obviously not.

“I know you can, most of the time, but everyone needs someone sometimes.”

“True. Like those girls need me.” The reality of the horrifying events settles around me. I’m going to need another drink to forget their lifeless eyes. There are still three girls that need my help.

“I know it’s a bad time to ask, but did you discover anything?”

I shake my head. “Honestly, I don’t think he knows anything. I mean, I’m drunk, so I’m probably not the sharpest with picking up intuitions, but I accused him of killing the girls when he was about to assault me. He seemed genuinely confused. You’d think he wouldn’t need to hide it when he was about to do something horrible anyway.”

Kilo hums in agreement. We pass a busy, well, busy for Dayton, intersection. Shop lights twinkle from all sides of us. I’m almost home, just one more block, thank God. But God must not be too happy with me because even drunk, beat up, and distracted, I can’t miss him.

Brick is pressed against a building parallel to us, hidden by the shadows but more than visible to me. He’s in a deep conversation with someone. We pass him, and thankfully, he misses me. I turn around to see who he was talking to. It’s Richard Wilson; his handlebar mustache makes him impossible to mistake. He was the second in command when Jack Lumberton was in power as the Hunters' leader. Now that Jack is dead, thanks to Red and Cameron, it only makes sense that Richard would take his place.

Kilo must sense my body stiffen. “What is it?” he asks, out of earshot of the two men.

“I just saw Brick.”

“Brick?”

“The cop that was supposed to be on our side. He was talking to a Hunter, the lead Hunter.”

Kilo whips his head around, but they’re probably only specks behind us now. “Did it look like a cordial conversation?”

“Much too cordial for my liking.”

“So he is working with the Hunters?”

“It would seem so.”

“Did he see us?”

I shrug. “I don’t think so.” I sigh. There is so much to debrief with Grimm tomorrow. I’m already exhausted. My house comes into view, and I stop. I should be weary of men after the night I just had, but Kilo did save me. It’s probably not an issue that he knows where I live. “Well, this is me.”

“Are you going to be alright?”

“Thanks to you.”

He smiles. It’s so cute. I can’t help it. I lean in, kissing him square on the mouth. He stiffens in surprise but parts his lips and kisses me back. It only lasts a moment before he pushes me away, laughing. “Alright, why don’t you go to bed, and if you still want to kiss me tomorrow, give me a call.” My cheeks heat. Shit. What the fuck was I doing? I just tried to convince him I wasn’t a slut like Wood implied, and now here I am, kissing him like I can’t control myself. I sigh. “It’s the alcohol.”

He laughs. “I know. Have a good night.”

I throw my head back. “Thanks again. Sorry for kissing you.” I walk toward my front door.

“Don’t be sorry!” he yells. “Just save it for later.” I turn around just in time to see him wink.

Surprisingly, I make it into my house with a smile. After everything that happened tonight, you’d think I'd be in tears, but it makes me happy to know all men aren’t pigs.