Page 11 of Tossed into the Mob (The Wolves of La Luna Noir #4)

ELEVEN

TREYTON

“That ceiling needs repainting.”

I spoke out loud, because like my life, the room was empty.

It’d been two weeks since Brock and I had parted at the airport, and I’d gone home to my folks and stayed in my childhood bedroom until they told me to get my butt in gear.

I’d resigned from my job and was doing locum work here when someone was on leave. And while I loved my parents, I’d rented a place of my own, about the same size as my former apartment.

I’d heard from Grandpa about Flint’s grand gesture of buying Brock and his dad a place. It was the least he could do after Riggs’s giant fuck-up. But I missed my mate so much, as if one of my limbs had been amputated. My wolf couldn’t understand why I didn’t stalk him.

You talked about doing that.

Mmmm. But I couldn’t. So I sulked and mourned and only slapped on a smile when I was working. That was the only joy in my life.

Brock and I hadn’t maintained radio silence. He’d messaged me, giving updates on his dad, the new apartment, and how he was questioning whether he wanted to continue with his Master’s degree. I filled him in with what was happening in my life, which was zilch.

There was nothing to indicate that I’d gone from the friend zone to a potential partner, but how could I? Our time together had been fraught with danger, so now we were texting buddies, and I couldn’t expect him to send me eggplant and peach emojis.

Ranger and Grandpa texted me every day. My cousin told me to make a grand gesture, but I couldn’t see myself abseiling down Brock’s building or standing on the street, ten floors below him, with a boombox on my shoulder and serenading him.

Flint locked Tony in his basement and said he was going to kill him before they mated. But I wouldn’t recommend that. Another text from Ranger.

Gods, he had to stop.

Grandpa kept me up to date on everyone in the Durand universe. Madd was working hard, but he was more suited to the mafia lifestyle than I was.

And Hunter put Odell in a panic room underground, even though his mate was claustrophobic. That was another text from Ranger.

I didn’t ask him what he did to Matt before they mated, though I’d heard the stories.

What sort of grand gesture would have Brock swooning at my feet? It wasn’t as though we’d had a thing. My cousins’ mates had recognized and acknowledged their connections very soon after their kidnapping, but all Brock and I had was a budding friendship, though he reacted when we were skin to skin.

You could kidnap him. That’s a joke, Ranger texted. Don’t do that.

My dad left a message saying he had a confession to make, so I picked up the phone.

“If you want to see Brock, you could catch him at the local library.”

“How do you know that?” That wasn’t a confession.

Dad was a librarian there, but I refused to believe it was a coincidence that my mate just happened to wander into the library where Dad worked.

“Because he came into the library with his dad one day a week or so before you met him. Said he used to come there as a kid, but I didn’t work here then.”

“How am I just hearing about this?” I was screeching into the phone and had to apologize.

“I was the one that recognized him and told Papa, but I’d met his dad before.”

Everything about my family was so tangled and intertwined.

Dad added more to the story, explaining he’d been at work and chatting to a man last year about me being in the documentary.

“I was so proud of you.”

Dad would have been wearing a name tag, so Niles, who already had the letter for Brock in case something happened to him, added my name to it. That had to be how I got to be on the letter, though at that time, my dad didn’t know about Brock.

“But how did you know he looked like Emilio?”

He reminded me that he and his brother grew up in Grandpa’s house. “We were there in the bad times, during the assassinations.”

I shivered because he’d never told me and Madd much about those years.

“We knew Emilio well. He helped stitch the pack back together when Flint took over.”

“Okay.” The pieces were beginning to come together.

“Brock looked so much like Emilio that he had to be his son. I asked Papa if he was aware if Emilio had a child, because the guy we knew didn’t have a family.”

He explained that if Brock was Emilio’s son, he should have been under the protection of the family, despite what his father did, and Grandpa agreed.

Grandpa told Flint, and he sent Riggs to check it out.

My entire family had a) brought Brock and I together and b) had also been part of the chain of events that saw him and his dad shot. That was a lot, and I should let Brock know.

I leaped out of bed and showered. I was out the door ten minutes later and stopped at a stationery store on the way.

Dad said Brock was at the library now, but we should have this conversation in private. But not knowing how long he’d been in there, I scribbled words on the card I’d bought and hung out at a café across the street.

My wolf caught his scent when he pushed open the glass door and trotted down the stairs. But before I could dash across the street, he glanced up and looked straight at me.

I walked toward him with my cards and flashed the first one that read, “Hi.”

He stopped and smiled and mouthed, “Hello.”

This is silly, my beast huffed.

No, it happened in a movie and it’s cool.

I showed the next card that said, “Got something to tell you.”

“Okay.” He slung the pack over his shoulder and crossed his arms.

“But first I have to kidnap you.”

His eyes lit up, and I quickly pulled up the next card. It read, “I’ve heard that’s what people do…”

And the next one finished the sentence with “…when you want to get someone’s attention.”

He smirked. “Is that so?”

We walked toward one another, and he tucked his arm in mine. It was like we’d never been apart. He took a deep breath. “You still have magic in your touch. But I have to ask, what is that scent? Because you should bottle it. You’d make a million bucks.”

“It’s just the same old me.” He’d never commented on my scent before. “Lunch?”

“Sure, but how did you know where I was?”

I tapped my nose. “I have my ways.”

He giggled. He seemed so much lighter than when we last met. And I wasn’t referring to his weight, but he’d thrown off not only the grief but the confusion and fear. It wasn’t surprising. His dad was alive, and the gunman was dead. But I did worry that guilt about killing Riggs might fester.

“Let me guess. Flint, probably. Or perhaps Grandpa Arnie.”

Awww, he wasn’t aware he was my mate and yet assigning Grandpa that title came with a dose of affection.

He glanced around and then peeked under my car. “Just checking Ranger isn’t holed up under there.”

“Nope. It was my dad who told me.”

“Whoa? You threw me a curveball. How does he fit into the La Luna Noir picture?”

I decided to tell him in the car before we ate and hopefully it wouldn’t bring up bad memories. Watching his reaction as I ran through the sequence of what led him to the hospital parking garage that night, I dug my nails into my palm, hoping he wouldn’t think badly of the family.

“You did say they meddled a lot, but this was taking it to the next level.” He didn’t sound angry, but all I could focus on was his scent that was taunting me. I’d forgotten how hard it was to resist him when we were in a confined space.

“Talk about full circle.”

I started the car. My mate’s life might have righted itself, but I wanted to start creating positive memories of us together.

“Where are we going?”

“We’re across the country from Durand territory where Grandpa owns a food truck, but I thought it might be great if we could eat at one.”

Ranger and Matt had an infamous meeting at a food truck in the rain, but today was sunny and me kidnapping Brock was fake.

“Yum. I can’t wait.” His gaze lingered on me before dropping lower. Whoa. Did he check out my crotch?

Keep your eyes on the road.

“It’s in the open, so there's plenty of fresh air, delicious food, and hopefully good company.”

“I thought you might have been taking me to a trailer?” He smirked. “That would be poetic justice.”

“There are no trailers in your future.”

“Oh. I was kinda hoping there might be.”

I couldn’t figure out if that was a joke.

“I have a confession.” Brock was looking out the window.

What is it with everyone confessing today? My wolf was perplexed.

“Let me guess. You’ve been working undercover for Flint all this time.” It made no sense, but I was reaching.

“You’re close.”

I sat up straight, wondering what information he was going to dump in my lap.

“I miss that frisson of danger, the taste of the unknown, and the scent of gunshot residue.” He turned to face me. “Does that make me a bad person?”

Who was I to judge what made someone bad?

But as I tossed the idea around in my head, something clicked.

Maybe that’s why I was finding it hard to focus on any task outside of delivering babies?

It wasn’t just me missing my mate. I’d experienced how my extended family lived, and I wanted some of that.

Nah. I dismissed it. I never wanted to be part of that life. I was plucking reasons out of the air. Despite me shooting a guy, it wasn’t a sign I was destined to be a red-blooded mafia guy. My dissatisfaction was not having Brock at my side.

“Treyton? Are you still with me?”

“What you experienced was a catalyst that forced you to evaluate your life. You’re searching for any explanation, and you latched onto my family’s lifestyle.”

He sighed. “I guess you’re right.” He adjusted the air-conditioning, saying he was hot. “What if I change the subject to something more personal?”

I was up for that, and my cock reacted. There was a knot of anticipation in my belly as I parked the car, thinking Brock might be about to declare his love for me.

Bah. You need to mate. My wolf had been understanding when Brock was grieving, sort of, or as much as a wolf could be when he was guided by instinct.

“This is silly, but it’s driving me bonkers. When did you start wearing cologne? Or is it body wash?”

That was what he wanted to ask me? The anticipation became rock hard and my tummy ached. I’d never worn cologne because it interfered with my natural scent, and I bought fragrance-free body wash.

My wolf was tapping on the inside of my head, trying to get my attention, and I told him to quit it.

“Never.”

“Are you sure?” One brow was raised as he studied me with his lips parted.

“Ummm, yes, I think I’d know.”

“You smell so good.” I glanced at Brock as he brushed against me. “You’re like a magnet and I’m a piece of metal.”

Listen to what he’s telling you, my beast insisted.

The visual in my head was of a tiny magnet attracting a huge wrench, and the satisfying clang as they came together. Being an alpha, society expected me to exhibit alpha-ish qualities, but I wasn’t like Madd or our cousins.

“And what happens next after I attract you?” I was still talking about magnets.

“Not sure, but I’d like to find out.” He skipped toward the food truck.

“Brock.” I raced after him, desperate to know what he was thinking. “Now it’s your turn to provide an answer. You saw me across the street before I flashed my first card.”

“Your scent was on the wind.”

That was kinda poetic, and I liked it.

Over lunch we spoke of our childhoods and the events since his dad had come out of the hospital. But we kept coming back to the days we’d spent together.

“How about that trailer, huh?”

“It was better than my old apartment. Not as much mold.”

He made a face. “Is it weird that I’m living in a luxurious apartment that Dad and I own thanks to Flint, and you’re a Durand and were living with mold?”

“You and your dad deserve it after what you went through.”

He covered my hand with his, and I almost jerked away at the ripples of pleasure that flowed from his skin to mine.

“This is nice.”

I gulped because it was more than nice.