Page 15 of Tossed into the Mob (The Wolves of La Luna Noir #4)

FIFTEEN

TREYTON

“Very funny.” I pulled on my pants and grabbed the keys and a jacket.

“I’m aware zombies are fictional, but they still scare me.” After reaching for the phone, I slipped my feet into a pair of sneakers. “But my wolf is real—you’ve seen him—and he wants to meet you properly. When he was trying to save our lives doesn’t count as meeting my secret self.”

Brock dressed more slowly, and I handed him his jacket, reminding him it’d be cold in the forest, especially during the night.

“A man I just had sex with suggested going to the woods to meet his beast, and I’m like, ‘Let’s do it.’” He giggled as he clutched the jacket in one hand.

I shrugged. “That sounds about right.” I headed for the door but wondered if I was being too flippant. Maybe Brock was scared. I swiveled toward him. “But you don’t have to. Or you can stay in the car and my wolf will prance around.”

He raised a brow. “Prancing, you say? Now that I’d like to see.” He raced past me and was out the door before I’d taken a step, and I was pleased he was so enthusiastic.

“What if he doesn’t like me?” Brock leaned on my shoulder as we descended in the elevator.

What? How can he say that? Let me talk to him?

It might be best if I communicate in words. You’ll see him soon enough.

I took my mate’s hand and sensed the moment my touch calmed him. The furrows in his brow evened out and so did his breathing.

“He adores you and has since you pointed a gun at us.” I didn’t add that my wolf was “rattling my cage,” desperate to make an appearance.

Brock giggled. “It wasn’t the most promising start to a relationship.”

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.” My English Lit teacher would have been proud of me.

“Look at you quoting Dickens.” He pecked my lips and strode ahead of me to the car.

“My wolf would protect you with his life… with our lives.” I started the car and drove out of the parking garage.

“That’s reassuring, but I don’t want to think of you dying.”

“Not going to happen.”

He asked if I’d allowed my wolf to shift that day in the storage unit, and I explained that usually I gave him permission to take his fur. But that was instinct on his and my part. We both understood in an instant that my human self couldn’t help my mate.

“I fired and Riggs didn’t go down, so I needed to bring out my beast.” If I worked for Flint, I’d have to go to a firing range and practice because I was a lousy shot.

He asked me if I’d been scared when I shifted to fight Riggs. But I was driven by instinct to protect my mate. I couldn’t be frightened in that instant because I needed to focus on beating Riggs.

My wolf told me to forget about that guy. He was so excited, his enthusiasm made my heart speed up, and I jiggled as I drove outside the city.

“Are you okay?” Brock put a hand on my arm. My body was vibrating as my beast asked repeatedly, Are we there yet?

“Just looking forward to having you meet my other half.”

Brock harrumphed, saying he thought I was his other half.

“Emotionally yes, but unless you can crawl inside me, my beast is literally the other part of me.”

The closer we got to the woods, the more the air scented of decaying wood, moss, soil, dampness from the recent rain, and the sweet aroma of new growth.

I inhaled, and my wolf calmed a tad. It was odd that I was a shifter whose beast was at home in the great outdoors, and yet me, as in Treyton, wasn’t fussed about traipsing around outside.

“Can you smell that?”

Brock wound his window down and stuck his body half out the window. I grabbed his jacket, worried he’d fall out head first.

“It smells like old ones knowing it’s their time and making way for the new ones, but doing so gracefully by following the same pattern as their ancestors have done for centuries.”

He got it. That was pretty much it.

I had to pick the perfect place to shift and not where me and my family used to.

Brock would need some light, so I’d leave the car running and the headlights on.

The moon would provide more illumination.

And my mate needed a clearing and not being surrounded by trees.

Humans in general didn’t like the woods closing in on them. And my mate was a city guy like me.

How much longer? My wolf was agitated, and my nails extended.

Stop. We’ll be there soon.

But my beast never did understand the word “soon” which was my fault, as I’d left him waiting to shift many times.

Oh my gods, no. Don’t do this. I tried to take my foot off the accelerator, but I had paws, and fur erupted over my body. Brock yelled as my vision improved, but I was no longer holding the wheel or in control of the car.

Sorry, sorry. My wolf apologized, but it was too late, and the car was careening onto the wrong side of the road and headed toward hundred-year-old trees.

“Treyton!” My mate’s voice vibrated in my head.

I’d failed him. I was supposed to love and protect him until the end of my days, and now I was going to kill him. I tried to wrest control from my beast but couldn’t.

But as the forest loomed with the car eating up the yards, my mate flung himself over my wolf and wrenched the wheel.

“We’re not going to die today,” he yelled.

We swerved away from the forest onto the road. But the sharp turn had the vehicle headed for the ditch on the other side until Brock turned the wheel the other way. The jerking bashed my wolf against the door. He whined and his teeth chattered, while the force had the car twisting and doing a 180.

We came to a shuddering stop as Brock had one hand on the wheel and his foot jammed alongside my beast’s legs, dangling over the seat and on the brake. We ended up facing the way we’d come surrounded by a cloud of dust.

Shit. I’d messed up. This was supposed to be a meaningful introduction which would eventually lead to mating.

I took my skin, but it was too late. The moment was ruined, and now this would be a blot on our memory. We already had a few of those, and this should have been a joyous occasion.

Brock fell back into the passenger seat, gasping for breath and with a hand on his chest. I wanted to reach out to him, to use our skin-to-skin contact to soothe him, but feared how he’d react. But I did it anyway because this was my fault, and I should be considering him and not my damned ego.

Warmth pulsed from my hand to his, and his erratic breathing slowed. He stared at me, checking out my bare chest and my cock while surrounded by shredded fabric that made him sneeze.

“Forgive me. I couldn’t control him and, well…” I waved my hands around at my nakedness, the car turned around, and the clawed seat leather.

Brock put a hand over his heart. “I hope that doesn’t happen often or you’d have to give me CPR.”

He didn’t shout or tell me I was a fool. “You were amazing. Most people would have panicked.”

“I did freak, and if you asked me what I did, I doubt I could recall.”

We hugged before I drove the car off the road. I had to speak to my wolf and make sure he never did that again. He was hiding, angry at himself at breaking my trust and putting Brock at risk.

You have to face him.

Don’t want to. But he agreed to show himself.

“You want to stay inside?” I held the door open for Brock.

“Nope. I want the full reveal.”

We got out of the car, and I gave my wolf permission to take his fur. He stood silently eyeing Brock until I urged him to make the first move.

You can’t expect him to come to you.

My beast walked toward my mate, but Brock didn’t flinch or lock himself in the car.

He reached out and put a hand on my wolf’s head.

And we stayed like that with skin-to-skin contact until my beast put his muzzle on Brock’s palm.

It was a tender moment that might never have happened if Brock hadn’t been as brave and quick-thinking.

The sky was tinged with light, and I told my beast we had to leave. I had some old clothes in the truck, and Brock wrinkled his nose, saying I smelled like gasoline.

“Sorry for the fuck-up.”

Brock told me to stop apologizing and we had to look forward. “If you can forgive me for almost shooting you, I can ignore that you and your beast almost got us killed.” He grinned.

It wasn’t the most promising start to a relationship, but I didn’t lock him in a basement, so maybe it wasn’t the disaster I’d built it up to be in my head.

If things had gone differently, we could have mated. But not after that shambles of a shift.

“Do you want me to drop you off at your place?”

He checked the time. It was light now and people were out exercising and walking their dogs. Brock suggested coffee, as his dad wouldn’t be awake yet. We wandered into a park with our hot drinks, and my smelly shirt wasn’t as obnoxious out in the open.

“So when does the mating thing happen?” He took a sip and ahhed.

I didn’t answer straight away because I was overwhelmed with love for this man, this human, who after everything that had happened, still wanted to be with me.

“Should I meet your dad first?” It occurred to me that we’d never spoken about whether Emilio and his dad had mated. Did his dad know about shifters?

He giggled. “You don’t have to ask his permission to mate me. This is the twenty-first century.”

I drank more of my coffee before responding. “Brock, what did you tell your dad about getting shot and the apartment? And what about Emilio being dead?” I figured he could leave out how he died and him being a traitor. His poor dad’s heart might not cope with all that right now.

He squirmed and looked away from me. “I didn’t tell him about almost being killed. My scar is so small, and he’s only seen me fully dressed.”

Hmmm, that was understandable, as his dad still had a long recovery ahead of him. But that didn’t explain how they were living in a million-dollar apartment.

Brock stared into his empty cup as if he was wishing he had something to distract him.

“I fibbed.”

That didn’t tell me much. “About?”

“The apartment. I had to break it to Dad about my father being dead. He’d wondered if something had happened, as even though the money kept coming, he sensed he was no longer living.”

Though they hadn’t seen one another in years, their bond, whether they mated or not, was strong enough for him to understand Emilio was no longer on the earth.

“I explained away the apartment by saying Father left it to us in his will but the executors hadn’t been able to locate us until now.” He tossed the paper cup in the garbage. “I don’t like lying, but it’s easier on him if he doesn’t know the specifics.”

That was the best way to get around it.

I should meet the man before we mated, especially if he knew about shifters. To show him the respect he deserved as my mate’s dad, I should introduce myself.

We agreed I’d come for coffee tomorrow morning because Niles took a nap in the afternoon.

The phone buzzed. The screen was cracked after the shifting-in-the-car incident. It was Ranger.

Have you mated yet? If you’re also going to get married, the family wants to be present. Uncle Arnie is already planning the menu.

Hunter had mated and married, so if it was important to Brock, we could do it.