by Lisa Oliver
everything he got and we’ll make sure we get you out.”
Thank the Fates he had friends, because with what he’d been
given in the mate stakes, Terry really needed people on his side
right now.
/~/~/~/~/
Zander had never felt so helpless in his life than when he saw
his tiny unclaimed mate being led away in handcuffs. The anger
he felt seeing the bruises and blood on Terry’s face was nothing
compared to the pain that ripped through his body when Terry
looked to him for help and he turned the man down. He had no
doubts that whatever Terry had done, the man currently
complaining loudly as he was taken out on a stretcher clearly
deserved it. But the only way he could think to help his mate,
without revealing their connection was by doing his job.
“Do you want to tell me what we’re doing here, again?” Sully
said quietly as Zander went back into the larger fitting room they
had come through. He’d briefly seen the three drag queens in
various stages of dress as he’d hurried through to the crime
scene, but now he wanted to talk to them in person. Nothing had
come through in the call they’d gotten over the radio. Just a
message about someone screaming. As soon as Zander had
heard the address, he’d done a U-turn in the street and headed
for Club Blue. His wolf knew something had happened to his
mate, and in that instant, he couldn’t help himself.
“Our job,” Zander said shortly.
“Our job’s done,” Sully said, not bothering to lower his voice this
time. “One man made a complaint. The other one is in handcuffs.
What else is there to do?”
“Haven’t you ever heard of innocent until proven guilty?” Zander
snarled turning on his friend for the first time in their long
friendship. “That boy in there was hurt, badly and yet he was
the one in handcuffs. Doesn’t that strike you as just a little bit
off?”
“You didn’t stop him from being taken. I presume you knew he
was guilty, and who really cares. It was a faggot quarrel that got
out of hand,” Sully said, and Zander didn’t know what to say to
that.
He knew Terry was innocent, but if he’d opened his mouth and
said or done anything then Sully and the uniformed officers
would have known. They would have guessed somehow that
Terry was important to him and Zander couldn’t take that risk.
When he had opened his mouth, he knew his callous words had
shattered any hopes of getting close to his mate anytime soon,
if ever. Surprisingly the never having sex again didn’t even
factor into his thinking. It was the hurt and then the defeat in
Terry’s stance as he was led away that killed Zander. Now he
had to try and make things right.
“Why did you arrest our boy? He was just protecting himself,”
one woman/man said angrily. Zander didn’t see anything
attractive in someone that looked like he should be driving a
truck, wearing a dress. But then, he could also see, that once
made up and wearing a wig, the guy would probably make a
lovely, if very big, woman.
“Ladies,” he said remembering his manners. “Can anyone tell
me who made the call to the police in the first place, and why?”
“There was screaming. We heard our Terry scream and we knew
it was that fucking Norman, so Dav here rang for the police,”
another one of the drag queens said. She had a bright red wig
on, which went surprisingly well with the red dress she was half
wearing.
“What do you mean you knew it was Norman? I take it you
mean, Norman Biggs, the owner here who was taken away in an
ambulance,” Sully asked.
“Norman has a rule,” an equally big blond Diva said, pushing
close to Sully making the man step back. Zander hid a half smile.
It wasn’t often something made his homophobic friend
uncomfortable, but these half transformed drag queens sure did.
“A fucking rule about getting sexual services in exchange for
keeping a job. Everyone in the club knows about it, everyone
puts up with it. The guy’s got a little dick anyway, so it’s not a
big deal. But our Terry deserves better than that. He’s decent,
and honest and innocent and if you don’t get him out of those
handcuffs and back here where he belongs then you are in big
shit.”
“I don’t take kindly to being threatened sir…er mam…er… who
are you anyway?” Sully finally recovered enough to ask.
“My name,” the blond said, stepping into Sully’s personal space
again, “is Madam Morgana, but you can call me Bert. I’m your
police commissioner’s brother and as soon as I’ve given my
statement I will be making some family calls.”
For the first time since he’d come into the club, Zander felt a
glimmer of hope that things would work out for Terry at least.
He couldn’t bear the thought of his little mate having to spend
the night in the cells. Those animals in there would eat Terry
alive, and that was without the damage it would do to Terry’s
wolf spirit. Pulling out his notebook, Zander said firmly, “I need
names, dates, complaints, anything you can tell me about
Norman Biggs. I promise you have our full attention and we will
get your friend out of jail.”
Chapter Six
Terry sighed and turned over in his bed to look at the clock. It
showed 11.15 and he guessed from the light peering in around
the cracks in his curtains that it was almost lunch time. Not that
he felt inclined to eat. He hadn’t eaten in the three days since
they’d released him from police custody. Thank God he hadn’t
been kept in overnight.
Terry tried to smile as he remembered the lawyer that Davina
had gotten for him, bouncing into the interview room like a fairy
on crack, threatening the two police officers who were guarding
him with everything from castration to job loss if the cuffs
weren’t removed from his wrists immediately and some
beverages provided. Terry had asked for a bottle of water. He
didn’t think his stomach would be able to hold anything else.
What was even more shocking, and maybe he would think even
funny someday, was when the police commissioner himself came
in and introduced himself, making arrangements for the charges
to be dropped because they were done in self-defense. Who
knew Morgana had a brother? The lawyer, Marcel or something
equally exotic had pressed a card in his hand when he dropped
Terry off at home, making him promise to call about suing
Norman for assault and sexual harassment. Apparently some of
the other employees at the club were forming a class action suit
against the man.
But Terry hadn’t called the lawyer. He hadn’t bothered to dress
or shower. In fact, he hadn’t done anything. His wolf was quiet,
almost silent in his head, probably traumatized by being locked
up even for a short while. Or maybe he was missing Zander too.
Because through it all, despite all of th
e help that his friends had
given him, the one person who could have helped him, who
should have wanted to protect him hadn’t done a single fucking
thing. Terry hadn’t seen Zander since he’d been led out of the
club. No phone calls, no visits, no flowers, nothing. It was like
the man never existed.
The only thing Terry had from Zander was the last card that had
come with the flowers, the card that he had slipped into his
pocket before his altercation with Norman. The card had been
as brief as the others, simply telling Terry to be ready at six
o’clock that night for a dinner date. Given that Terry was still in
the cells at the time, Terry didn’t consider it blowing Zander off
by not turning up. Zander knew where he was. Knowing how
callous the bastard was, he probably took someone else out on
a date and no matter how hard he tried, Terry couldn’t bring
himself to care. Zander had made his position clear the day he
was arrested. The big man might be an Alpha wolf, but he lived
by human ideals. Terry’s dream of an HEA went up in smoke
the moment Zander watched him being cuffed.
All of the protectiveness, the possessiveness and the desire to
protect a mate from all harm – Zander must have been absent
the day those things were handed out. Terry had to face the fact
that his mate was a dud in the wolf department, and the mate
department. Every shifter knew how badly an animal spirit could
react to being caged in. But his mate did nothing to stop it, and
while Terry hated himself for moping around like a sad sack, he
honestly didn’t have the energy to do anything else. He had no
job, he had no life and his mate didn’t want him. There was
nothing to get out of bed for.
“Terry. Terry, where are you babe, you’ve got company.”
Fuck, why did he give Roy a key to his apartment? Couldn’t he
mope in peace? But he knew better than to try and stay in bed,
Roy would just come and find him. Pushing aside the covers,
Terry went to get up, and then sat on the side of the bed, as his
head started to spin. Perhaps three days without food was a bit
long.
“Terry you stupid fool, you look like shit. You smell like shit, and
I bet you haven’t eaten have you? No, no, stay in bed, we’ll bring
the food to you, but for goodness sake, let me open a window in
here.”
Roy bustled about, opening the curtains and windows, plumping
Terry’s pillows, picking up his clothes off the floor. That was Roy’
way. He was snarky, rude and too belligerent for his size most
days, but he had a wickedly kind heart and Terry knew that Roy
cared for him in his own way. Strangely enough Roy’s fussing
gave Terry a spot of hope. He might not have anything else, but
he had really good friends. Sure enough in trooped Charlie and
Joel, with Max by his side. But Terry was surprised to see Davina,
Lucy and Morgana all coming in too – carrying bowls of food that
had Terry’s stomach rumbling.
“How are you feeling, precious? Is your head feeling any better?”
Davina asked, sitting down heavily on one side of the bed and
patting his hand.
“I’m fine, really.” Terry managed a watery smile. Physically he
was. Norman had given him a black eye and a split lip, but that
was the sum total of his injuries. Mentally Terry knew it would
take him a lot longer to forget the sheer lust and hatred in
Norman’s eyes when he tried to force him to give him a blow
job. His ex-boss featured heavily in his nightmares.
“Well, that’s good, sweetie, because we’ve got news,” Morgana
said, sitting on the other side of the bed.
“Oh it’s so exciting,” Joel said, bouncing up and down on his toes,
his blond curls framing his face. “You’ll never guess…”
“I get to do the sets,” Charlie cut in. “And Max is in charge of
catering, while Roy’s on lighting and special effects. Joel is going
to help Max, so even he’s included.”
“Included in what?” Terry was confused. He was thrilled that his
friends seemed to have some big event they were planning for,
but it wasn’t like he’d be setting foot inside Club Blue again and
he didn’t have any other contacts.
“It’s for Houston Pride Week, coming up in about three months’
time,” Roy explained taking the soup bowl out of Terry’s hand
and replacing it with a cup of hot chocolate and a muffin. Terry
didn’t remember eating the soup but he must have done, and he
picked up the muffin and nibbled on it. It was delicious, and Terry
started to take bigger bites. Maybe he would be okay.
“Darling, they are putting on a Diva Show Night,” Davina
explained. “Anyone who is anybody will be there, and you, my
clever little precious, have been signed on to do all of the
costumes for the Houston entrants. More than twenty costumes
in all. Isn’t it fabulous?”
For a moment, Terry felt a glimmer of creativity surge through
his body, but he quickly squashed it. As far as he knew most of
the work done by the Houston Pride Week was on a voluntary
basis and he needed a job, like quickly. He didn’t have the
resources to donate his time, as much as he’d like to.
“It’s paid,” Lucy said brightly, her hair, lipstick and dress all
bright red as usual. “We made sure of that and with the
connections you make with the Divas you will have plenty of
freelance work to keep you going for as long as you want. And I
might have twisted the arm of the event organizers to allow you
to promote some of your designs, for the escorts to wear who
will be walking the ladies up and down the cat walk. That’s bound
to bring you more work.”
“You didn’t twist his arm, sweetie, you blew the man in his office,
admit it,” Morgana said, slapping her friend on the arm.
Lucy raised an artfully drawn on eye brow. “Twisted, blew, who
cares, Terry the job is yours. Say yes, and you’ll have more work
than you can handle. Trust us to look out for you, aye? The way
you do for us.”
Terry looked around at his friends. Joel and Charlie looking so
excited for him, Max calm and happy as always. Roy was
fossicking through Terry’s wardrobe, but that was normal for
him. Davina, Morgana and Lucy were all just looking at him
expectantly.
“I’ll do it,” he said in a rush, bracing himself for the onslaught of
squeals, hugs and kisses. This was the job of his dreams, and he
wasn’t going to turn away the chance to work with some of the
biggest Diva names in Houston, and promote his own designs in
men’s clothing at the same time. It was too good an opportunity
to miss. His heart might be broken, but Terry lived for color and
he vowed and declared to himself that no one would ever know
how he felt. If he was going to die a virgin, he was going to be
a colorful one.
Chapter Seven
“Well, well, well, an Omega wolf, unclaimed and looking totally
delici
ous. What an absolutely delightful surprise.” The lawyer hit
a button on a box on his desk and added, “Angela, hold all my
calls. I’m not to be disturbed.”
Fucking hell. What were the chances? Meeting another Alpha
wolf was not on Terry’s list of things to do when he walked into
the lawyer’s office that morning. He was supposed to be signing
his contract for working with Houston Pride Week. It was a
simple job. Should have taken five minutes and then he was
going to look at some studio space that Charlie had hunted out
for him where he could work. Instead he was confronted with a
lone wolf, in a decidedly sharp suit, who was eyeing him like he
was lunch.
“Mr. Thorne?” He said nervously. “I’m Terrence Martin. I’m
supposed to be here to sign a contract.” He didn’t want to talk
about his being an Omega, or being unclaimed or anything else.
He just wanted to work, but he couldn’t start until the paperwork
was done. The low rent on the studio lease was dependent on
seeing the contract. This lethal looking wolf shifter was the one
thing that could stop all that, if he had a mind to.
“Yes, yes, of course. Take a seat. Tell me about yourself,” the
man’s voice was pleasant but the order was clear. Mr. Thorne
was as tall as Zander and probably just as built if the way his
expensive suit was cut was any indication. But where Zander
was dark, with his permanent five o’clock stubble and his dark
hair, Mr. Thorne had white blond hair that hung down to his
shoulders, brilliant blue eyes and a clean strong chin. He was a
good looking man and pre-Zander, Terry would have been
attracted to him.
Terry edged towards a chair, and sat down, twisting his fingers
in his lap as he wondered what on earth the lawyer wanted him
to say. But maybe this wolf had a spot more compassion than
Zander did, because he smiled and said in a softer voice.
“You’re an Omega wolf, yes?”
Terry nodded.
“And you have family here, a pack you belong to?”
Terry started to shake his head and then stopped. “I have
parents who love me,” he said trying to keep his voice firm and
calm. “They live in Ohio and I’ve never been in a pack. My
parents didn’t think it would be safe for me. I keep in touch with
them all the time.”
“Your parents were probably right, keeping you away from other
