Page 9 of Tossed into the Mob (The Wolves of La Luna Noir #4)

NINE

TREYTON

He’s dead.

But we didn’t kill him. I’d maimed him and my wolf mauled him, but we didn’t cause his death.

Dread slithered around my throat, trying to throttle me. It wasn’t so much that there was a dead wolf bleeding out on the floor, though that was horrific. My mate had witnessed my beast and not in a “this is who I am,” way. Nope. I shifted and my wolf attacked and fought another wolf.

And then the cherry on the top of this F-ed cake was Brock, who’d already suffered enough trauma to last a lifetime, shot the guy’s beast. Yeah, that other shifter was a bad dude, but it was F-ed up that my human mate had ended his life. If I’d been a better shot, his death would have been on me.

The storage unit was quiet except for our staccato breathing, and on full display was that gunman’s wolf splayed on the floor, blood spurting out of the bullet wound, along with the bite marks and deep gouges made by my beast’s claws.

I took my skin and shivered in the cold space. My hands and chest were riddled with blood spatter, but my mind was saying, “We have to get out of here.”

But I had to attend to my mate and make sure the blood on his face wasn’t his.

“Brock.” His eyes were fixed on the dead wolf. “Brock.” He wasn’t even blinking. Placing a palm on his cheek, I sensed warmth rippling through his body, and he stared at me.

“You’re you.”

“Yes, but we have to move.”

Clothes. Shit. I yanked open the first of Brock’s father’s boxes and pulled out a suit. I’d rarely worn one except to graduations and formal family events, but I pulled on the pants, picked up a shirt, shoes, and jacket and shoved them in the pack before taking Brock’s hand.

My phone was on the floor, as it’d been in my back pocket.

I snapped a pic of the wolf in case I had to identify him, and grabbed Brock's gun. I left the shifter’s weapon, and we ran but in the opposite direction to where we’d entered.

Ignoring the cameras that would have captured our faces, I dragged Brock around the corner while booking a ride share.

“We’ll go back to the trailer, but we need to get my car from Rudy’s.

” I could have gone to my place, but I figured Brock needed to be somewhere familiar and not another new environment.

Besides, that’d be the first place Flint’s people would look.

The trailer was small and almost cozy, whereas my place was tiny and had nothing to recommend it.

I’d paid for the trailer for a week, and we might get a few hours before the family found us.

Not that I was scared about Flint’s reaction, because I’d protected my mate against a killer.

But he’d be peeved about tricking his men at the apartment.

I had to get my head on straight before facing my Alpha, and even before I did that, I had to console Brock.

He’d killed a killer. An eye for an eye didn’t protect the person from overwhelming guilt.

I kept my mate’s hand in mine. This wasn’t the time or place for an explanation, but I hoped our connection might soothe him. His hand heated up, and he nodded.

The cab driver was the chatty type. Lucky us. I ran my eyes over Brock. I’d missed blood spatter on his hands and shirt, and the glances the driver was giving me suggested I had blood on my face.

The suit covered my injuries, but they were healing as I sat in the back seat, gripping Brock, fearing that if I didn’t, he might ask the guy to stop, saying he never wanted to see me again.

"You guys okay back there?" the driver asked as we turned onto the rural road that led to Uncle Rudy's place. "You seem pretty quiet."

"We're fine.” My voice was sharper than I'd intended. My throat was still raw from the growls and snarls, and my body ached from the fight. Shifting always left me drained, but now every muscle had been stretched beyond its limits.

Brock hadn't said a word since we'd left the storage facility. But there was a heaviness in the car. Gods, I hoped he didn’t hate me.

He’s upset, my wolf noted.

Very.

Letting a stranger drive us to Rudy’s was unacceptable, so Brock would have to walk the last mile.

I had the guy let us out at a farmer’s market, and instead of buying anything, we took a shortcut through the woods.

Rudy had cameras and bodyguards, so they’d see us approaching, but I was hoping he and Grandpa were out and we could get in the car and go.

“I wanted to kill the man who murdered my dad.” Brock removed his hand from mine and stopped walking. “But did I?”

“Yes.” I couldn’t put off the I’m not human conversation much longer, but I didn’t want to have it until we were in the car and heading away from Rudy’s.

“Good. I’m glad he’s dead and that I was one who did it.”

That was how he felt now, but PTSD might bite him on the butt later on.

“He was a wolf, and you were a wolf.” He brushed his fingertips over my cheek as if checking I was flesh and blood.

“Yes.” What I wanted was irrelevant. Brock needed answers now.

“Anyone else?”

“My family.” Shit, I’d have to point out his alpha father was a wolf.

But my answers must have satisfied him for now or his brain had shut down.

“You’ve been keeping secrets, just like my father and Dad.” He strode off along the path.

If he only knew how many.

We were out of luck because Rudy’s car was in the drive beside mine.

The front door swung open, and Rudy's famous purple feather boa floated out before he did. His style intrigued me, especially as his sons dressed conservatively. “Didn’t expect you here, especially dressed like that.”

He knew something. Flint must have called.

“Just getting the car.”

Rudy’s gaze was fixed on Brock. “You’re staying here.

” He was smiling, but there was no mistaking the command.

Technically he was the former Alpha Omega and the current Alpha’s dad, and he held no position in the pack except respected elder.

But if we tried to leave, he’d signal the bodyguards to stop us.

“First, you both need a shower, and I’ll get you clean clothes. Then you’ll eat leftovers from last night’s dinner, and after that, I’ll make tea and you can spill.”

Rudy led Brock to a guest bedroom while instructing me where I should shower.

The hot water eased my aches, and I put on the sweatpants and hoodie Rudy had laid out on the bed. I’d never seen him wear anything like this because his style was original and flamboyant. Maybe he left it for relatives who’d been fighting in a storage unit while their human mate looked on.

Is that a thing?

No.

Ahhh! I rubbed my face, trying to erase all the fucked-up shit that had happened, some of which was my own doing.

Brock was at the table tucking into last night’s lamb and vegetables when I emerged. He didn’t look up, and I sat opposite him.

“Who’s going to start or do I flip a coin?” Rudy joined us, a mug of tea in one hand.

I’d give him the short version. “The man who murdered Brock’s father is dead.”

Rudy raised both brows, and it took a while for him to lower them.

“You did a lot of story editing. I got a call saying something went down.” Rudy looked from me to my mate.

He narrowed his eyes. “Last night, you were sitting so close to Brock, you were practically on top of him.” He flicked his eyes toward my mate.

“And now you’re avoiding one another. What happened? ”

“There were two wolves.”

“Oh.” Rudy got up. “I’m going to drink my tea on the porch so you can have that conversation.” He paused in the doorway. “And Flint is on his way. I should warn you he's not in a good mood.”

I put my head in my hands but gathered my courage and spoke to my mate. “As you’ve probably guessed, I’m not human and neither is my family.”

Brock leaned forward and looked at me; so he was listening. I related our long history as I knew it and how it was intertwined with humans, making sure to explain why we kept our identities a secret.

“But Tony, Matt, and Odell are human.” That got a reaction from my mate.

“What? How did they meet?”

He’d accused me of keeping secrets, and if there was any hope for us—though I might have blown any chance of that today—I had to tell the truth.

“My cousins kidnapped them. Not all at once but over a few years.”

He laughed. Not a happy sound but a harsh grating one that sent shivers up my spine. “Is there something in our DNA that includes kidnapping? A gene?”

I breathed in and out slowly, waiting for his thoughts to connect and for my mate to understand what he said. Seconds passed, and he frowned, picked up a fork and studied it, before looking at me.

“Our DNA. That’s what it is. My alpha father who was part of La Luna Noir was a shifter too.”

“Yes.”

“But I’m not.”

“No. When shifters mate with humans, their children can be shifters or humans. Sometimes they’re latent.”

Rudy strode in alone, so Flint hadn’t arrived. “Your father could never keep a secret from me.” Was he talking about my dad when he was growing up? But Rudy was talking to Brock. “That was what I used to tell him. He’d keep things close to his chest, but I could always wrangle it out of him.”

Rudy rambled on about them going to school together, and he had a faraway look in his eye. They must have been close. “But he never told me about you.”

“Are there any more secrets I should know about?” Brock has his palms on the table as if he was going to leap across it.

Rudy and I shared a glance. Now was not the time to tell my mate about our bond. I wasn’t sure he even liked me.

“I know there are because no one will tell me how my father died. Rudy, you’re the first person to give me a sliver of information about him.”

Brock pulled out a photo and handed it to Rudy. The two of them had a connection, however tenuous, and I was left out.

A car pulled into the drive, and I tensed. Flint was going to chew my ass out and bleed me. But that was nothing compared to me losing Brock. I cringed as heavy footsteps on the porch indicated my Alpha wasn’t alone, and I stood because it seemed right that I face them on my feet.

They stormed in, my three cousins. Grandpa followed, but he hugged me, whispering that he was glad I was okay. He put his arms around Brock and then stood back.

Flint’s eyes told a story. Yes, he was angry but he was also resigned, and he slumped into a chair while Hunter and Ranger flanked him.

“Where do I start?” Like last night, Flint appeared tired, and I’d added to his burden.

“It’s my fault we outsmarted the bodyguards, Alpha. And I’ll accept whatever punishment you mete out.”

“No, it was me. I pushed Treyton to leave, and I’m glad I did, because that killer is dead.”

Flint pursed his lips. I hadn’t mentioned the man was one of us because his wolf tattoo was our logo. He shrugged, saying if we could trick the guards, they weren’t doing their job properly.

“Brock, I’m going to give you good news, and I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you earlier.”

My mate scoffed. “My dad is dead. There’s nothing else that’s good about this world.”

The connection we had was severed, but I had to stop with my pity party and think of my mate. He needed something positive in his life because it’d been all downhill since his dad died.

Maybe his alpha father wasn’t dead and it had been a ruse to… to what? Lure the gunman out? No, Flint would never have deliberately put me and my mate in danger.

“Your dad, Niles, is alive.”