Pleading the Fifth

by Sandrine Gasq-Dion

  Scott collapsed on the couch. “I’m not in the mood.”

  “There are some hotttt guys here! Jesse asked if you were coming in.”

  “Jesse? Really?” Scott sat back thinking about that one. Okay, Jesse Salvatore was hotter than hell. He’d been the bouncer at Cuffs and Stuff for years and Scott had always found him attractive. The fact that Jesse worked at more than one club ensured Scott saw him often.

  “Yep, I think the man has the hots for you.”

  Scott looked at the time; Tristan was now over an hour late. “I’ll be there in ten.”

  Scott threw some pants on and grabbed a T-shirt. Grabbing his wallet he looked at his cell phone. Frowning at the silent electronic device in his hand, Scott shut it off. He left a note for Jude on the fridge and walked out. Traffic wasn’t too bad and Scott pulled into the parking lot of Cuffs and Stuff . Parking off to the side, he walked briskly to the front door. Jesse stood, as always, in the same pose he always did. The man was huge, his blond hair styled spiky. The muscles flexed against his tight T-shirt and Scott found himself licking his lips.

  “Jess,” Scott smiled as he walked up.

  “I was wondering if you’d show.” Jesse eyed Scott’s body. “Looking good as always, Delange.”

  “When do you get off?”

  Jesse grinned. “Whenever you say.”

  Scott leaned against the wall, giving Jesse a slow once-over. “You’re pretty damn built.”

  “I was in the military, had to be.”

  Scott closed his eyes - he had to ask. “Which branch?”

  “Navy.”

  Scott sighed. “Let me guess, SEAL?”

  Jesse looked surprised. “Yeah, how’d you know?”

  “Lucky guess?” Scott tried to smile.

  “You prefer Marines?” Jesse gasped theatrically.

  Scott moved closer, feeling the heat from Jesse’s skin. “How about you come find me when you’re off?”

  Jesse looked over Scott’s head to see his relief pull up. “You’re in luck,” Jesse looked down at Scott. “So, why all of a sudden are you interested? You’ve been coming here for years. Does it have something to do with Miles?”

  “You know him?”

  “You never forget a SEAL brother. We weren’t on the same team, but I’d seen him around.”

  “Can we not talk about him? I just want to have a good night.” Scott glanced at his watch. “Wait a minute, it’s only nine, since when do you get off at nine?”

  “Since Chaz said you were coming; I called in a replacement.” Jesse studied Scott’s face. “Look, if you got a thing for Miles just tell me. I like you and I would love to see if we click, but if you got the hots for another guy—”

  “It’s a long story, the ending is that he stood me up and I don’t play games.”

  Jesse leaned in closer to Scott, putting a hand on the wall behind Scott’s head, Jesse smiled. “So does that mean you find me attractive?”

  Scott felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Damn, the man oozed power. Jesse’s green eyes bore into his own and Scott actually felt sweat sliding down his back.

  “You could say that.” Scott slid his hand up Jesse’s bicep. “Do you have tattoos?”

  Jesse grinned. “Did you really just ask a SEAL if he has tattoos?”

  “So that’s a yes?” Scott smiled seductively.

  “Damn, Delange,” Jesse grabbed Scott’s hand leading him into the club.

  Scott saw Chaz and Cole right away; they were dancing with two other men. He pulled Jesse toward them with a grin.

  “Hey guys!” Scott shouted.

  “Oh good! You’re here!” Chaz motioned to the DJ.

  “What are you up to?” Scott asked.

  “Just wait,” Cole said.

  Scott raised a brow. The music started and Scott laughed. “What are you trying to say?”

  “You are Titaniummmm!” Cole shouted.

  Scott closed his eyes and started to dance. He was sandwiched between not only Chaz and Cole, but Jesse and another man. The anger was dissipating the more he danced and it actually felt good to have Jesse’s attentions. The man was sexy as all hell. Scott wrapped his arms around Jesse’s neck and rubbed his ass over the taller man’s cock. Jesse’s hands came around his waist and Scott moved to the music. The smell of Jesse’s cologne invaded his senses and he dragged Jesse to one of the club corners and pushed him up against the wall.

  “What are you doing?” Jesse breathed, as Scott wrapped his arms around his neck, grinding on him.

  “I want to see if you taste as good as you look.” Scott pulled Jesse’s mouth to his own. Their lips met and one of Jesse’s hands threaded into his hair. As kisses went, Scott had to say Jesse was an excellent kisser. The bad part? He didn’t feel anything electric. Jesse must have realized it, because he pulled away.

  “It’s Miles, isn’t it?”

  Scott sighed in frustration. “God, I’m sorry. You are gorgeous, sweet and damn can you kiss.”

  “It’s just not doing it for you, is it?” Jesse asked.

  “We can try again?” Scott tried to smile.

  “We could kiss all night and it wouldn’t make a damn difference. When you got it bad for someone, they are all you can think about.” Jesse could see Scott felt like shit about it. “Hey, I’m a big boy; it’s okay, Scott. Look, Miles is lucky to have a guy like you.”

  “Cold and unfeeling?”

  “You’re not. I’ve seen you with Jude and your friends.” The sound of glass breaking stopped their conversation and Jesse narrowed his eyes. “Shit, Walter’s here.”

  “The resident drunk? I thought he was banned for life?”

  “Nope, six months, just got reinstated, but not for long.” Jesse motioned toward the bar; Walter was waving a broken beer bottle around. “Salvatorrrrrre!” Walter shouted. “I should deal with this,” Jesse said.

  “Why is he wearing sunglasses in a club? I mean if you’re young it’s cool but…”

  “No idea, but stay over here in case he gets crazy.”

  “Great,” Scott sighed.

  Chapter Four

  Tristan was going to leave, he really was, but then some asshole started waving a broken beer bottle around. He’d gone to Scott’s place after calling him every five minutes and not getting an answer. The meeting had gone on longer than he’d anticipated and he’d shut his phone off during it. Lawrence Markel had been shifty through the entire meeting, something was up with the guy and Tristan couldn’t put his finger on it.

  He’d arrived to see Scott grinding on the bouncer, Jesse, then pulling him into a corner and kissing the guy. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but Jesse had been smiling. He remembered Jesse from one of the SEAL teams, the guy hadn’t changed a damn bit. Jesse Salvatore was a good guy, he remembered that much.

  The crazy beer bottle guy had been restrained by Jesse, and Tristan scanned the club for Scott. He was in the corner with yet another man. Tristan felt his anger rising. This was ridiculous; his mate was a slut. Tristan stalked over to them and stood behind Scott. The man Scott was talking to stopped talking and looked over Scott’s head at him.

  “Can I help you?” Scott turned to see Tristan standing behind him. “Oh, nice of you to show up. Wrong place, though.”

  “I had a meeting, I turned my phone off because it’s a bit rude to be looking at your cell phone when you’re interviewing for a job. I tried calling you and it went to voice mail.”

  “I turned my phone off,” Scott said. “Jerry and I were just leaving.”

  “Jerry? The poster boy for herpes? I hear this guy is like the Chex mix of STDs, a little of everything.”

  “Fuck you!” Jerry snarled.

  “Yeah, no.” Tristan took Scott’s hand. “Come on.”

  “We are not together, Tristan. You can’t tell me where to go, who to see or what to do. I can go home with whomever I want.”

  “Do you hear that?” Tristan put his hand to his ear. “That�
�s the sound of me not giving a fuck what you want.”

  “Yeah? You see them?” Scott pointed to a group of people leaving. “Those are the people who cared.” He pulled out of Tristan’s grip.

  “Later, Jerry, sorry about the asshole.” Scott trudged through the mass of bodies on the dance floor and out the club doors. He had made it to his truck when Tristan caught him.

  “I did try to call when I got out. Check your phone.”

  “I don’t care!” Scott shouted, turning towards his truck.

  Tristan grabbed Scott’s hand and spun him around. “I was in a meeting; I’m sorry, all right? I didn’t stand you up on purpose; this was a job interview I had to go to.”

  “Is that why all your relationships fail? Because your job is more important?”

  “What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Why do yours? Because you’re afraid to let someone in?”

  “Well, isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black!”

  “At least I wasn’t sucking face with someone!” Tristan roared.

  “What’s wrong, Tristan? Jealous?” Scott smirked, pulling the keys to his truck out.

  Tristan growled and pushed Scott up against his truck. “Yes, I was. You are mine, Scott, whether either of us like it or not we are mated.”

  “Goddammit, get off me!”

  Tristan pushed up against Scott, rubbing his hardened cock on Scott’s hipbone. Scott groaned and Tristan grabbed the hair at the nape of Scott’s neck.

  “Look at me,” Tristan pulled Scott’s head back, looking in his eyes. “Now stand here and tell me you don’t want me, tell me you don’t think about my cock buried in your ass, my hands on your dick.” Tristan buried his face in Scott’s neck, inhaling the scent of his mate.

  “Fuck, I hate you,” Scott groaned as Tristan licked a path up his neck.

  “Shut up,” Tristan rumbled, finding Scott’s lips.

  Scott fought him -- at first -- then his lips softened under Tristan’s. Scott’s arms went around his neck and Tristan grabbed Scott’s ass. Scott gasped and Tristan dove in, fully tasting his mate. A growl tore through him as Scott’s tongue slid into his mouth, tangling with his own. Tristan groaned as the tongue investigated him; hands were everywhere as both of them sought for more skin, more heat. A popping noise went off behind them and Tristan jerked away from Scott. He turned quickly, placing himself in front of Scott like a shield.

  “Was that…?” Scott peered around Tristan.

  “Yes, it was.”

  Seconds passed before screams began and a mass of people exited the club doors. It was pure pandemonium as people ran from the club, pushing other people down and trampling them in their urgency to put distance between themselves and whoever was inside shooting.

  “Shit! Chaz, Cole and Jesse…” Scott started running.

  “Scott!” Tristan ran after him. Grabbing Scott’s arm, he pulled him back.

  “What the fu—”

  Tristan put a finger over his lips and motioned to the back way into the club. They both made their way to the back door of the club; people were still running out, screaming. Chaz and Cole were trying to help people out of the club.

  “You guys stay out here, okay? Make sure everyone’s out,” Tristan instructed. Tristan waited until a gap was made then ran in, keeping Scott behind him.

  “I can take care of myself,” Scott hissed.

  Another popping noise went off and Tristan looked around the corner. The beer bottle guy was standing over Jesse with a gun pointed at his chest. Tristan motioned Scott towards the DJ booth. Scott scowled and moved towards the bar.

  “Dammit, Delange,” Tristan whispered. He got the death look from his mate and Tristan sighed in defeat. “I’ll go and distract him; you get Jesse away from him.”

  Scott nodded and snuck behind the bar. The bartender was on the floor, a bullet hole in his chest. Scott felt for a pulse and found one, but it was weak. He grabbed one of the towels and put it over the wound. Scott peeked around the side of the bar, Jesse was holding his chest and blood was seeping between his fingers.

  “Didn’t think I knew who you were, did ya?” Walter snarled.

  “What are you talking about?” Jesse moaned.

  Walter stiffened and turned slowly. “Where are you, Scott?” Walter said.

  Scott motioned to Jesse on the floor, catching his attention. He moved quietly as Walter started crossing the room.

  “Don’t let him bite you,” Jesse whispered.

  “What?” Scott stopped mid-crawl.

  “Just don’t let him near you, okay?” Jesse tracked Walter as he searched the other side of the bar. “You don’t know what you’re dealing with.”

  Scott raised a brow. “What am I dealing with?”

  “You won’t believe me.”

  Scott grabbed Jesse’s wrist and lugged him towards the bar. Beyond the smell of alcohol, Scott could smell the unmistakable scent of werewolf and it wasn’t Tristan. A loud growl came from the other side of the bar and Tristan flew out from behind the DJ booth in full wolf form. He landed on Walter and snarled in his face.

  “You must be Miles; a little birdie told me you’d found your mate. They are going to come for him, kill him right in front of you,” Walter cackled.

  “Who?” Scott stood up.

  Walter jerked his head back and smiled. “The rest of us.”

  Scott gasped; the sunglasses were gone and Walter’s eyes were partially yellow.

  “He’s a rogue, Tristan!”

  “Yup, they been takin’ really good care of me, too! So I owe ’em; I got three for one tonight!”

  “You got zip,” Scott said. “What you got was dead.”

  “It’s all good! They know all about you, Scottie boy and they can’t wait to kill you right in front of your precious mate. They are coming!” Walter laughed hysterically.

  “On second thought,” Scott looked at his mate. “Keep him alive and take him to Wayne.”

  “Good plan,” Tristan growled.

  Scott ran back to Jesse. “Are you all right? How bad is it?”

  Jesse backed away as fast as he could. He’d just seen a werewolf and Scott seemed to know all about them.

  “Stay away.”

  “Jesse, I’m an EMT, please let me help.”

  Jesse narrowed his eyes. “Come closer.” Scott scooted closer and Jesse peered into his eyes. “You’re not a rogue.”

  “Of course not! My eyes are black not yellow, dipshit. You didn’t figure that out when we were lip-locked?” Scott tilted his head. “How do you know about rogues, you’re not a werewolf.”

  “Can we discuss this after you patch me up? It’s not life threatening, but it hurts like a sonofabitch.”

  Scott pulled off his T-shirt and put it over the bullet hole in Jesse’s chest.

  “Look, I can help you. My blood will heal you.”

  “Yeah, no. I’ll take my chances at the hospital.” Jesse backed away from Scott.

  “Jesse, dammit. I can heal you!” Scott sighed in frustration as Jesse shook his head. “Stubborn ass.” He grabbed his phone and called James, who picked up on the first ring.

  “I know all about it, Nicholas and Casey as well as Tucker and Wesley are on their way. It is werewolf related, isn’t it?” James asked.

  “Yes it is; the guy who’s been shooting up the place is a newly made rogue.”

  “Get him to the cell and keep him locked up until Wayne gets there. I’ll handle everything else. Kellan and Jude are on their way in the bus. Anyone hurt?”

  Scott looked at Jesse’s chest wound, it hadn’t been life threatening at first, but it was quickly becoming that way.

  “Yes, the bartender was shot and Jesse Salvatore was hit and—”

  “Whoa, did you say Salvatore?”

  “Yes, why?” Scott said.

  “The Arizona pack is made up of Salvatores. Is he a werewolf?”

  “No, he’s not.” Scott covered the phone with his hand and narrowed his eyes at
Jesse. “You have some explaining to do.”

  “Hang tight, help is on the way,” James said.

  “I would ask how you know all this—”

  “Yeah, don’t bother,” James laughed, hanging up.

  Scott hung up and glanced over at Tristan, still holding Walter down. “Jude and Kellan are coming to help Jesse and the bartender, Nicholas and the gang are going to help with Corey Hart over there.”

  Tristan tilted his head in confusion.

  “I wear my sunglasses at night?” Scott sighed in irritation when Tristan’s head tilted again. “Never mind.”

  “I got it.” Jesse coughed, laying his head back.

  ~~ Scott sat in the waiting room waiting for Jesse to come out of surgery. The bartender was still in surgery as well. Tristan had shifted back and had left with Jacob and Seth to interrogate Walter. As far as he knew, the rogues were hunting wolves in the Cascades and surrounding forests; he hadn’t heard of any of them coming into town.

  What the hell had happened to Walter? And what the hell had he meant when he said they knew who he was and who his mate was? He knew he’d made rogue enemies, hell he slaughtered them. But so had Tristan, and for a lot longer than Scott had.

  So the rogues knew he was Tristan’s mate and now they wanted to kill him in front of Tristan.

  Tristan in wolf form. Scott couldn’t get the image out of his head. Tristan in human form was gorgeous. In wolf form? Oh, hell. If he hadn’t been so preoccupied with Jesse and Walter, he would have come in his pants. Tristan’s coat matched his hair, beautiful and golden. Mix that in with his blue eyes and…Damn. Scott shifted in the chair. They had actually worked together tonight without ripping each other apart. Progress was made.

  “Scott?” Scott turned to see Alexander coming down the hall.

  “How is he?” Scott stood up, stretching his legs and back out.

  “Awake and asking for you. He lost a lot of blood, but Doctor Hill managed to stop the bleeding and patch him up. He was very lucky. The bartender is in recovery.”

  “So Jesse’s not a werewolf at all, is he?”

  “No,” Alexander shook his head. “I checked his blood myself; there is no werewolf gene of any kind.”