Shifters of Grrr 1 (29 page)

Boone sighed. “If I wasn’t in love with another man- a
man
, Lora- I would think about it. But you know I can’t.”

Lora snarled, full lips exposing fangs in her temper. “That pretty boy has been a problem since high school.”

She whirled on trim heels and dashed back into the forest, her shift to wolf swift and smooth.

***

Jelal saw one man stumble into the open, clutching a wrist pumping blood. He fired a warning shot, and the man stumbled back the way he came. Jelal followed behind him, wary. He didn’t know if the thug still had a gun- and he didn’t want to get anywhere near that blood.
 

“Jelal.”

God, he wished dude would stop sneaking up on him like that. He turned, straightening his hunched shoulders. Boone stood several feet away, eyeing him with arms folded.

“My pack will take care of things, why don’t you come with me?”

“Great. So everyone knows my business now?”

Boone smiled. “I don’t even know your business,” he replied, voice dry. “So I doubt it. I have clothing stashed nearby- I’ll be back. Don’t go anywhere.”

Yeah. Right.

CHAPTER

2

Jelal didn’t stick around. A pack of werewolves yapping at him? Yeah, no thanks. Some of the younger ones had been the worst annoyances as kids- triple the energy of humans but with the claws to get into real mischief. As soon as Boone disappeared, Jelal took off at a jog to his car. Shaking his head cause he’d left the keys in the ignition. Who did that? He pulled back onto the single lane highway and headed into town.

A small town, the center shopping area a strip of brick buildings built in the 1900’s,
 
still paved with red stones. Millie’s Place fed most of the town except for the McDonalds the teenagers hung out at. He took a booth, sliding onto the red seat and ignoring the menu.

“Hi, there, I’m Sian; I’ll be helping you today.”

Jelal looked up in surprise. The slender, dark eyed woman smiled brightly, a notepad in her had.

“Sian? Sian Lee?”

She blinked, looked at him harder. “Well, it’s Baker now, but- hey, it’s Jelal!”

He grinned at her, twisting in the booth to face her. “Man, girl, you’re still as fine as you were at sixteen.”

She laughed. “It
is
Jelal. Brad will be glad you’re in town. Are you visiting or moving home for good?”

“I’m going to feel things out, see how it goes.”

“You just get in?”

“Yeah, on my way to Grandma, but I had to stop and get some chicken first.”

Her dark brow rose. “Just the chicken? I seem to remember a thing for strawberry shakes.”

He smiled. “Large.”

She tucked the notepad away. “Got you. Look, you get settled and then come on by for dinner one day this week, you hear? I moved in with Brad when we married. We eat around seven.”

“Will do.”

And he hoped his business got no one hurt. Would damn well make sure his business got no one hurt.

She brought him the chicken basket with butter rolls and the large shake with chunks of strawberries in it. He dug in, eating for several minutes. Relaxing for the first time in days. He and Boone- well, mostly Boone- had eliminated the assassins for now, so he had some reprieve before Kurt figured out he wasn’t dead and sent more people. Or maybe the mob affiliated Program Director would figure Jelal was going to lie low- forever- and just leave him alone. That would be... perfect. Because if he were honest, he wouldn’t mind moving back to his hometown. Find a good teaching job at the high school and coach football after school. Meet a partner to settle down with. He was getting to that age where the rounds of dates were wearing on him.
 

He was just getting into his meal when Boone slid onto the bench opposite him. Jelal glanced up, nearly knocking his shake over in reflex- it’d been a stressful few days. Boone’s expression was half-annoyed, half-reproachful.

“Really, Jal? You didn’t think I’d be able to figure out where you went? You always came here when you were stressed.”

Jelal put down his chicken, wiping greasy fingers with a napkin. “Look- I didn’t mean to lose you. Well, yeah, I did. But don’t take it personal. This shit I’m mixed up in-”

“We were friends once.”

Jelal didn’t know how to respond to the note of... something... in Boone’s quiet statement.

“Yeah,” he replied, choosing his words slowly. Wanting to honor the past but recognize the present was separate from that. “And I don’t want to drag you into something that could get you killed.”

Boone laughed. It weren’t no soft laugh, either. Jelal glared at him, teeth gritted. He didn’t effing appreciate being laughed at.

“You’re human, and you’re worried about
me
getting hurt?” Boone’s sandy brow rose. “Maybe you should rethink your strategy, man. A wolf pack on your side isn’t anything to dismiss.”

“I don’t need-”

“Do you think whoever you’re in shit with won’t go after Ms. Mave?”

Jelal’s mouth snapped closed, blood boiling at the thought of any of those fuckers trying to hurt his Grandma.

Boone nodded, blue eyes steady. “I can smell your rage. But I can also post a pair of sentries outside her place- sentries who are quick and quiet. She won’t even know they’re there.”

Jelal had his pride- his ego- like any other man. Hell, more than his share being an ex-football player. But when it came to his Grandma... was ego more important than her safety?

He swallowed his instinct to go it alone. “Yeah. Alright. But ain’t nothin’ for free man. What do you want in return?”

Boone smiled.

***

He watched Jelal, saw the faint tinge of pink underneath desert brown skin. The man didn’t quite squirm underneath Boone’s attention- and Boone would give anything for him to do exactly that, in private, and in happier circumstances- but Jal shifted on the bench a little before he caught himself.

“Let’s just say you’ll owe me a favor in the very near future.” Boone replied.

Jelal’s dark eyes narrowed, studying him. Boone’s experience told him his mate had no sense of humor, so he avoided the urge to tease him. But it was hard.

“Yeah. A favor. Sounds like some mob shit.”

Boone snorted, rising. “You would know better than me, from how those two guys sounded. Sian?”

The waitress walked over, smiling. “Hey, baby.”

“Pack this up for us, sweeting.” He handed her his card with a wink. “And leave yourself a generous tip. Brad mentioned number three is on the way.”

She laughed. “Yup. This job is the only thing helping me keep my girlish figure.”

Jelal frowned at him as Sian walked away. “I wasn’t done eating.”

“Yeah you were. Or you would have interrupted. Come on, we have catching up to do.”

***

It was hard to talk about old times when Jelal felt like he had a target on his back.

Boone sighed. “I knew small talk was a bad idea,” he said wryly. He’d left his car parked at Millie’s and rode with Jelal. “I was trying to get you to relax, but I guess you’d better just tell me what’s going on.”

Jelal was silent several minutes. Grandma lived about a ten-minute drive outside of the town center, off a dirt road you could miss if you didn’t know it was there. The kind of house where the gas company had to come out and fill an underground tank once a month. The kind of house that was either a fortress- or a deathtrap.

“I was stupid,” Jelal said finally. “Someone brought me information that certain people in the city wouldn’t want to be made general knowledge- and I took it to someone I thought could be trusted. I was wrong, and now it seems that they figure me dead is the best solution.” And the accountant hadn’t returned any of his messages, and hadn’t returned to work.

“Information?”

Jelal glanced at Boone. “Mob stuff. Embezzling funds through the non-profit I work for. Worked.”

Boone blinked. “Well, I guess I wasn’t that far off in saying ‘mob shit.’“

“No. Unfortunately.” Jelal hit the dash. “Goddamnit.”

They pulled up outside Grandma’s house a few silent minutes later. Jelal got out of the car, the only sounds their heels crunching on gravel as they walked up to the covered porch, and birds singing in the trees.

“I’m going to shift and call my pack,” Boone said. “
Stay
here this time.”

“Yeah.”

Grandma was happy to see him, enveloping Jelal in the kind of hug that made him feel like a little boy again- and pressed the weight of his responsibility towards her even more firmly onto his shoulders. He couldn’t let anyone hurt this woman, and in a stupid moment of panic he’d fled home, acting on a child’s instinct instead of leading the bad guys
away
from his loved ones. Stupid.

“Stop the cussin’, boy,” Grandma said, setting out a glass of her homemade lemonade. “Ain’t nothin’ that can’t be set straight with some brains and a good shotgun.”

If only.

CHAPTER

3

 
Jelal didn’t sleep over the next two days. How could he? Even if he didn’t hear the occasional howl of wolfy communication reminding him of his debt to a friend he hadn’t seen in ten years, he couldn’t help his tension over when his former employer would make his next move. And if he were honest, both matters weighed equally in his mind. Because the boy Boone was grown up into a man now defending Jelal, the way Jelal had once defended him. And Jelal felt the ghost of friendship, along with his reluctant respect and gratitude over the protection of his grandmother morph into something… warmer. Reluctantly warmer. But, yeah.

“It’s been a week,” Jelal said, standing with his hands in his pockets, kicking the small stones around in his grandmother’s driveway. “What hell the are they waiting for?”

Boone stood next to him, unmoving, eyes constantly scanning the tree line- seeing things Jelal could never hope to spot with his human eyes.

“Be patient,” Boone said. “They’ll make a move. It’s the nature of the hunt. Long lulls and quick bursts of action.”

Jelal swore. “I should just go back to Austin and call him out. Bastard.”

Boone turned his head, frowning. “That’s not a good idea. My pack can’t leave the territory.”

“I didn’t say anything about taking the pack.”

Boone tensed, expression hardening. Jelal rubbed a hand over his scalp, sighing.

 
“I don’t mean to sound... shit. Ungrateful, man. What you guys are doing for Grandma-I don’t know how I’m gonna pay you back. But do you think I want anyone getting hurt over my business?”

“We’ve discussed this. I
really
don’t like repeating useless conversations.”

Jelal’s eyes narrowed. He figured he didn’t have much room to get upset about the edge in Boone’s tone, but still. The man didn’t have to be so salty. Jelal faced him squarely.

“What are you doing this for? What’s in it for you? Look, we used to be cool. I can see us-” Jelal faltered, not wanting to go there. He steered the conversation away from
that
revelation. “-being tight in the future. But you don’t owe me anything. And I don’t even know if I’m going to stay here after this.”

Boone’s lips thinned. “You ask me why I’m doing this. You want to pretend like you don’t know?”

Blue eyes focused on him with the laser intensity of a wolf. Jelal froze, locking his knees because for a minute he was about to take a step back. And he didn’t retreat for anyone. Well, except when he’d fled from Austin... but damnit, that was different. And he was done running. He squared his shoulders.

“Nah, man. I don’t. So what do you want?”

Boone studied him for one long moment, then turned away. “You aren’t ready for what I want.”

The wolf began to walk away. Something inside Jelal snapped. He’d had a shitty two weeks, a stressful couple of days truncated by mellow times with Boone- he wasn’t in the mood for word games. Jelal grabbed Boone’s arm, swinging the man around to face him again. He didn’t have to work hard, though, because Boone whirled on his heels at just the first touch of Jelal’s hand, closing the space between them with alacrity.
 

“I said you aren’t ready,” Boone said, smile soft- and lethal. “But guess what? I don’t think I care anymore. I’ve been waiting ten years. And you walk back into town with trouble on your heels and then tell me you might not be staying? I really don’t think I care if you’re ready.”

Boone kissed him.
 

Seized his lips as if he owned Jelal, years of pent up frustration packed into what should have been a sweet, exploratory first move. Boone moved into Jelal’s body, grabbing his wrists and holding Jelal’s arms at his sides. Jelal strained against the hold- but returned the kiss, after one shocked moment, aggression for aggression. Jelal remembered a little about werewolf politics- he’d read a few books. Watched a few shows on television. Damned if he’d bare his throat or hunch his shoulders to Boone like he was submissive to the wolf. If the man wanted him, he would have to accept Jelal as an equal.

And Jelal hoped the kiss meant Boone wanted him. He felt his muscles tense with a surge of tamped down desire. But he couldn’t let this go any further without clarification. Now wasn’t the time, if there ever was time, to fuck up his life in a bad relationship move.