Wesley (12 page)

He turned and, while walking would have been cooler, he ran for the door. Today had been too much, and his disappointment at what had just happened pressed down on him like a two-ton weight.

“Wes, wait!”

Wes ignored Sully, hitting the handle on the screen door so that it flung open and bounced off the outside wall. Wes made it down the steps before a physically heavy weight slammed into his back.

“Oopmh!” Wes tried to fling his hands out as the ground rose up or he went down, it was kind of hard to tell. But his arms were clamped to his sides and the world spun. He hit with a thud, but not nearly as hard as he would have if he hadn’t landed on the idiot who’d tackled him. “Let go, Sully,” he snarled, kicking and driving his elbows back. He didn’t really want to hurt his brother, but he didn’t appreciate being tackled either. “I mean it!”

Sully grunted and panted and didn’t let go. Bobby knelt and caught Wes’ chin, giving him a stern look. “If he lets you go, you gotta promise to come back inside. Everyone overreacted. Including you, ya drama queen.”

“What the hell does Sully see in you?” Wes snarked, “Oh yeah, you two are mates. He doesn’t have to see anything in you since it’s all predestined—ouch!” Bobby’s face had gone dark with anger but it was Sully who’d punched the shit out of Wes’ ribs. “Jesus—”

“Be nice to my mate,” Sully rumbled, tightening his hold until Wes was gasping. “I’d love him no matter what.”

Wes nodded and, as soon as he could breathe, he looked at Bobby before turning his head in the sign of submission he’d seen the wolf shifters do, exposing his neck. He hoped he didn’t get bitten. “Sorry, that was out of line.”

“Yeah, it was.” Bobby touched his neck and Wes shivered, power flowing from Bobby’s fingertips into him in a weird electrical current. “I said we was all asses.”

Which was Bobby’s version of an apology, Wes figured. Still… “I was the worst.” Sully let him go then and Wes flopped off him onto the dew-damp grass. He groaned and put his forearm over his eyes even though he’d closed them. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I want him—Armando—so bad, and he said he doesn’t do virgins, but he did me—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Sully hollered even though Wes was right beside him. “What do you mean he did you? If you can’t even say it you shouldn’t be doing it.”

Wes raised his arm up enough to shoot a nasty look at Sully. “Blew me. Twice. He sucked—”

“Got it,” Sully bit out. “And I wasn’t saying he’s a whore. He did used to hustle, but he had to. It didn’t make him a bad person, just…just a kid who needed help and got hurt instead.”

And Sully looked so sad it made Wes’ chest ache. Bobby was right there in an instant, pulling Sully into his arms.

“Wasn’t your fault, honey. It wasn’t.” Bobby repeated that a few times before Sully stiffened and pushed away from him to look at Wes.

“Does he know who you are, that you’re my brother?” Sully snorted as soon as he asked it. “Duh. Of course he does. It isn’t like we couldn’t pass for being twins.”

Something oily and sick slithered around in Wes’ stomach then, but before he could figure out why, Bobby spoke.

“Don’t be thinking like that, Sul. Don’t just assume the worst like we all just did in the house. Ended up making asses of all of us, right?”

As much as Wes hated to admit it, Bobby really was going to make a good alpha. His voice was almost hypnotic, and he was making sense, too, instead of being a smartass. But Wes still had that sick sensation going on, and it wasn’t going to go away without an explanation, or maybe not even then.

“What does it matter that we’re brothers?” he asked, turning his attention to Bobby when Sully only shook his head.

“It’s a long story, and one I’m not sure is all ours to tell you, honestly. Just depends on what happened between you and Mando, I reckon.”

Wes frowned at Bobby. “I told you, or Sully, whatever. Same thing with that whole mate-mind-meld thing. I wanted him, still want him, bad. He wouldn’t give me the time of day until this evening when I followed him out to the parking lot.” Just talking about it was making Wes hard all over again, despite what he now realised was fear burning in his gut. “We exchanged words, and I don’t think the details there are important.” Or maybe some were, but more so to him than Bobby or Sully. “Anyway, we, er, he ended up doing, you know, and after he finished, or I finished, whatever, he—” Wes hated this part—“he ran. Just left me there.”

Sully growled. Wes couldn’t believe it. His brother wasn’t the growly type. Except Sully was definitely growling, and Bobby seemed to be the calm, reasonable one. The universe had flipped.

“Baby, you gotta remember what happened to Mando, okay?” Bobby was saying in a soothing tone. “And ‘member, Remus said he doesn’t date or nothing like that, so maybe this means more than you’re thinking it does. What…” and now Bobby looked at Wes with an enigmatic expression, “what
would
make Mando suddenly decide to mess around with someone, and send him scurrying like he was freakin’ out over it? Did Mando even get off?”

Guilt nipped Wes’ conscience. “No, but he took off—”

“Yeah, yeah, he hauled his ass right on out of there like it was on fire and his car was a bucket of ice water, right?”

Wes almost snickered at Bobby’s description, except it was all too accurate and made him feel like shit. “Yeah, like that.”

Bobby nudged Sully. “Kinda like I hauled ass after you and me screwed around the first time.”

Sully wasn’t the only one who went statue-still. Wes did too, certain that Bobby had already figured out the one part Wes hadn’t yet told them. Bobby just kept talking.

“Yeah, I knew we were mates and was like, oh hell no, ‘cause I figured I was too much of a mess and had this chip on my shoulder about—” Bobby smirked at him—“predestination, specifically when it came to mates.”

“Ouch, no wonder I struck a nerve.”

Bobby grimaced and nuzzled Sully’s neck. “Yeah, ya went right for the jugular like a real predator. Instincts, I guess.”

Wes felt disgusted with himself. “So I’m instinctively a jerkoff. Not my goal in life, you know.” Sully did a bad job at covering a laugh with a cough. Wes didn’t think it was funny. “Seriously, I know I really fucked up back home. I was stupid, but that doesn’t mean I’m never going to be better than I was then. I’m not dumb.”

Sully gave up cuddling with Bobby to sit beside Wes. He looked at Wes for a second then tackled him again, this time in a hug that warmed Wes through and through.

“You’re not a fuck-up,” Sully murmured close to his ear. “I make mistakes, too, all the time. None of us are perfect, and I know that loneliness can drive you to do foolish things. That’s how I ended up taking Mando in, which maybe didn’t turn out foolish in the long run, but it was definitely stupid to invite a homeless stranger that I knew was a prostitute into my home. Even though I’m a shifter.”

Wes had to agree with Sully, and they were right back to the subject that made Wes’ stomach cramp. “You sure we’re talking about the same guy?” he asked.

 
Sully nodded.

“And he really was a hustler?”

“Yeah,” Sully said. “His folks were done with him when he came out. I don’t think he had a happy upbringing before then, either, but I don’t know. But Wes…” Sully eased up on the hug until he had his hands resting on Wes’ shoulders. “He hates me. I’m not sure why, since he hasn’t talked to me or Bobby in two years or so. Mando didn’t live with me long before I met Bobby, and when he found out Bobby and I had sex—”

“Fucked like masculine gods,” Bobby interrupted, grinning like a lunatic.

Sully flipped him off. “
Had sex
, Mando flipped out. He— I don’t know if he was jealous or scared or mad because I’d lectured him about safe sex, and you know…” Sully shrugged. “We’re shifters. STDs and HIV aren’t issues for us. We didn’t use condoms, and we were, er, messy. And kinda violent.”

Wes shook his head. “I don’t want to know the details. What happened with Armando?” He stressed Armando’s full name.

“Um.” Sully looked at Bobby, who hitched up one shoulder in a shrug. “Shit. I don’t know, I think Mando—Armando, I mean—ought to tell you, in a way. That’s his story to tell.” Sully sounded pretty decisive on it instead of unsure like he’d been seconds before. “Yes, I told our part, and all I’m going to say is Armando has reason to be skittish, and to even hate shifters, but I don’t think he does. Someone—really lots of people, I believe—have hurt him over the course of his life. It will take a lot for him to trust anyone else not to cause him pain. Also, he’s lived with Bobby’s pack practically ever since he left my place. Well, since a few days after, I guess. Be patient with him, and consider what Bobby started to say, what he hinted at a while ago.”

Wes tried to pinpoint what, exactly, Sully was referring to. It seemed like a lot had been said already, and it was all important. His confusion must have shown because Bobby huffed and tapped him right between the eyes before Wes batted his hand away.

“Dick,” Wes said, but he didn’t put much heat behind it.

Bobby cocked an eyebrow at him and smirked. “I was hintin’ that maybe
Ar
mando—” he turned that smirk on Sully, who smacked him on the back of the head. “Ow. I mighta deserved that.” Bobby looked at Wes again. “Maybe Armando’s your mate. Did he smell good—aw, shit. He uses that soap Remus makes for him, the scent neutraliser—”

Bobby took all the fun out of his announcement. Wes gave him a mock glare as he cut in. “Yes, I know Armando’s my mate. That damn soap stuff made it hard for me to figure it out, but last night, at Remus’ place, there was no doubt.”

“At Remus’ place?” Bobby asked, surprise arching his brows up high. “Y’all did the blow job deed there?”

“Does it matter where?” Wes asked. “Can you maybe get your mind out of the gutter for a few minutes?”

“You didn’t tell me he was your mate right off the bat, you jackass,” Sully said, thumping Wes’ ear. “That was mean, bro, really mean.”

Wes shrugged. “I just wanted to keep it for myself a little longer. I wasn’t going to leave here without telling you. Anyway, I wanted to know why Bobby ran after he knew he was your mate, although…” Wes waggled his eyebrows at his brother. “I kind of don’t blame him.”

“Aw, fuck you,” Sully groused as Bobby snickered. “Both of you. He ran because he couldn’t measure up to my sheer awesomeness.”

“I better get my hip waders, the shit’s gettin’ deep out here,” Bobby said. He grunted when Sully punched him playfully. “Keep that up and you’re gonna make me horny.”

“Ew, guys, seriously.” Wes got up and waited for the two goofballs to join him. Once he was fairly sure they were done joking around, he asked them, “So what do I do? Armando ran off both times, after—” Sully blanched and Wes caught himself, “After we were done. My cat wants to chase him, but up here”—he tapped his head—“tells me to give Armando time, and he’ll come to me. Here”— Wes tapped his chest—“just fucking hurts.”

Sully put an arm on his shoulders and gave him a sort of hug. “Just have to give him time, and be patient.”

But did Armando know they were mates? He’d lived with shifters for two years, Sully had said, but that didn’t mean he’d know anything about the feelings inside of him that drove him towards Wes.

And what was that about Armando being skittish? Wes wanted to know everything, but Sully and Bobby were right—Armando needed to be the one to share his past with Wes. Hearing it second-hand was just not the way to do it.

Then something else occurred to Wes and it knocked him out of his own mental drama to find Sully and Bobby both watching him. That was kind of creepy, but Wes didn’t dwell on it. He looked at Sully. “So Armando knows I’m a shifter, and that you and me are brothers?”

Sully nodded hesitantly. “I’d think so. He has to at least know you’re related to me. Well, yeah, he probably does know we’re brothers. Between gossip and the way we resemble each other, it’s got to be obvious.”

Wes needed to think. His stomach growled. He needed to think and eat. “Can I take some stew home? I need to be alone for a while and think about all of this.”

Chapter Eight

Armando seriously considered calling in sick, or dead, or maybe even running off to a beach in Mexico. The problem was, there was a tug right from his core, though whether it was from his soul or heart or dick, he didn’t know. But it wouldn’t let him flee or skip out even for the day.

Damn it, he
wanted
to see Wes. Last night’s meal with Remus had been tense with all the things Armando had refused to say. Remus, creepy, all-knowing and wonderful man that he was, had finally just informed Armando that he’d no longer be getting his odour-neutralising cleansing products. Armando hadn’t even bothered asking why. It was like Remus knew everything that had happened. Armando had never asked Remus how he knew so much and didn’t intend to ever do so. There were some things he figured he’d never be able to handle knowing.