by Dakota Rebel
He started to massage my cock in his suds-filled hands. I reached over and grabbed one of the railings to hold myself steady. My knees felt as if they wanted to buckle under his touch. He kept one hand on my shaft then moved the other to cup my balls. The water was so warm and his hands were so soft, I never wanted the feeling to end.
He reached up behind me, unhooking the sprayer to rinse the soap from my cock, then hung it back up before going to his knees in front of me again.
“You have to promise to tell me if it starts to hurt,” he said, looking up at me. “I mean it, Mitch. If one of your stitches tears or you feel any pain at all we have to stop. Please?”
“I promise.” And I meant it.
He nodded then took the head of my cock in his mouth. I gripped tightly to the rail and tried not to moan aloud. I didn’t want him to mistake my pleasure for pain and stop. I didn’t want him to ever stop.
Inch by inch, he took my whole cock down his throat. He moved slower than I’d ever seen him move, making each second last as long as possible. His hand reached out to find the bar of soap again. He turned it over in one hand a few times, then dropped it back into its tray. He used the soaped fingers to probe my asshole. As he slid his fingers in, he never took my cock out of his mouth or his eyes off mine.
I knew he was waiting for me to show some sign of pain, but between the feel of his throat convulsing around my cock and his fingers pressing against my prostate, he probably could have stabbed me in the chest and I wouldn’t have felt it.
He started moving his mouth faster over my shaft, keeping the fingers in my ass pumping at the same rhythm. He moved the palm of his hand to gently squeeze my balls, and I screamed, coming in quick bursts into his mouth.
“Mitch? Are you okay?” The bathroom door banged open, and Reagan ran into the bathroom.
“I’m fine!” I yelled, hoping she wouldn’t pull open the curtain.
Jarrod jumped to his feet, looking from me to the outline of my sister through the shower curtain.
“What are you—oh my God. I’m sorry. I heard you scream and—I’ll be in the living room.” She slammed the door behind be her, and Jarrod started laughing. I was too appalled to see the humor just yet, though I was sure I would eventually.
“What the hell is she doing here?” I asked Jarrod as if he would have an answer.
“I don’t know,” he said, his tone still full of amusement. “But I’ll bet she’s sorry she just dropped by.”
“It’s not funny,” I hissed, reaching for the faucet.
I turned off the water while Jarrod climbed out of the tub to help me back out. We wrapped towels around ourselves and went into his bedroom through the side bathroom door. Jarrod pulled on a pair of jeans and walked straight out of the room to check on Reagan. The man had no fear.
I wanted to crawl into his bed and never face her again. I knew that was childish and would only make it worse. I wasn’t ashamed, just insanely embarrassed. I found a stack of my clothes someone must have brought over from my apartment. I had to assume it was Reagan because they were all jeans and white T-shirts, though she had also brought over the Armani button-down which seemed like it would be the most comfortable over the stitches.
I pulled on a pair of jeans and left the shirt unbuttoned. I didn’t want to start bleeding again and ruin the shirt less than a week after I’d bought it. I stood at the door for a minute before finally taking a deep breath and going out to face my sister.
Reagan and Jarrod were sitting on the sofa, neither of them was talking or even looking at the other. Great.
“Hey Reagan, what’s up?” Not the smoothest reaction ever, but I wasn’t really sure how to act so I was trying to casual.
“What’s up? You were almost dead three days ago. What the hell were you two thinking?” She shot a wicked glare at Jarrod. “If Mitch pops the wrong stitch, he could bleed to death. Then what are you going to do?” Her face was red, and her hands were clenched into fists.
“Calm down. Look, I appreciate that you’re worried about me, but I’m a grown man, and I don’t need my little sister’s permission to…take a shower.” I couldn’t say it, not to her.
“I understand that. I just think it’s a little irresponsible of both of you to be…taking showers so soon. I know it’s none of my business what the two of you do, or when you do it, but I’d like to know that you’re still going to be alive when I get back.”
“Get back from where?” I asked, confused at the turn the conversation had taken so quickly. “Where are you going?”
“I’m leaving for Brazil in the morning,” she said softly.
I sat in a chair across from her and looked from her to Jarrod. He didn’t seem surprised, so I assumed she had already told him what was going on.
“What the hell are you going to Brazil for?”
“I can’t tell you,” she said, taking a deep breath. “It’s classified.”
“You didn’t!” I jumped to my feet, feeling one of the stitches tear as soon as I was standing. But I didn’t care. I was suddenly so angry at her, it didn’t matter what else was going on.
“I was sworn in this morning.” She looked over at Jarrod, but he wore his blank face. He wasn’t going to take sides in this mess.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” Before she could answer, I turned to look at Jarrod, too. “And you. You knew about this, and you didn’t tell me?”
“Don’t yell at him! I told him not to tell you. I need to get the fuck out of here for a while. School is practically done anyway, and I needed a job. Besides, it’s what I’ve always wanted to do.” She stood up and walked toward me. Her voice grew softer with every step, and I realized she was looking at my stomach. “Sit down and let me look at that.”
“No, I’m fine.” I wasn’t fine. It hurt like hell, and it had started bleeding pretty badly, but I wasn’t giving up the fight just yet. It didn’t matter if it was a fight I’d lost before it even started. If she was sworn in, it was too late for me to do anything. And she had known that, which was why she hadn’t told me before.
“You’re not fine. Sit down and shut up.” Reagan pushed me back into my chair as gently as she could. “Jarrod could you get me a washcloth, please?”
Jarrod seemed only too happy to leave the room.
“I’m not done with you yet!” I called after him.
Reagan punched my shoulder. “Leave him alone. He only did what I asked him to do.”
“Reagan, why? I would think that after everything that has happened, this is the last thing you would want to do.”
“Then you never really knew anything about me, Mitch.” She blew out a sigh. She glanced toward the hallway, but it looked as if Jarrod had chosen to escape instead of help. Smart man.
She got up and grabbed a handful of clean bandages from the table beside the sofa. She pressed the cloth against my chest and moved my hand to hold it there.
“I have worshipped you since I was a little girl. I’ve looked up to you. Hell, I’ve wanted to be you. I don’t have any false notions about how hard and dangerous this life is. But it’s all I’ve ever wanted to be. And after everything that happened with Skip, I really believe it’s what I’m supposed to do.” She kissed my cheek.
“What about school? You’re supposed to graduate in a month.” I was grasping at anything I could think of to try and get her to stay.
“The Army took care of all of that. The school let me graduate early, and they’ll forward my diploma to Mom. I’ll have an abbreviated boot camp in Brazil then learn on the job. Can’t you just be happy for me? Please? Just this one time try to accept who I really am and what I want for myself? I can’t just be Mitch Baine’s baby sister for the rest of my life. I’m my own woman, and this is the life I choose for myself.”
I stared into my sister’s eyes and realized she was right. Jarrod had been right. I didn’t really know her, but I loved her. If this was what she thought she wanted then I could support her decision. After all,
that was what she’d always done for me.
“Reagan, if you get yourself killed, don’t come crying to me, okay? ‘Cause I don’t want to hear it.”
She punched my shoulder again, and I faked an exaggerated wince.
“Cry baby. You’re fine. Let me see.” She moved the bandages and nodded. “It stopped. Now, stop fucking your boyfriend long enough for that stuff to heal. Understood?”
“Yes ma’am.” I gave her a salute. “Damn it, Reagan. I’m going to miss you.”
“I’ll miss you, too. And Jarrod!” She yelled down the hall.
Jarrod walked back into the living room with the washcloth he had been sent for in his hand and a sheepish grin on his face.
“You’re all right. We’re done with the fighting. For now,” I said, pulling Reagan into a one-armed hug.
She looked at her watch and groaned. “I’ve gotta go.”
She kissed my forehead then hugged and kissed Jarrod goodbye and left. I listened to the elevator shake its descent to the warehouse below and sighed. My little sister was all grown up and off to kill monsters in Brazil. I don’t know if I could have been more proud of her.
“Reagan left this for you,” Jarrod said, handing me a box wrapped in plain black wrapping paper. “It was on the table when I came out of the bathroom to check on her while you got dressed. She asked me to wait ‘til she was gone to give it to you.”
I opened the paper to find a bright pink box decorated with hearts and flowers. Inside the box was a little girl’s makeup kit and a note that just said, “I love you.”
Jarrod looked at me with one eyebrow crooked. I shook my head and laughed, wincing at the pain in my stomach but not really caring.
Chapter Sixteen
The next afternoon, I woke up to the sound of someone banging on the bedroom door. I looked over and saw Jarrod was still dead for the day. I reached into the bedside table to grab my gun.
“Mitch,” my dad’s voice called from the hallway. “I need you to come out here.”
I sighed and clicked the safety back on the gun. I grabbed a pair of jeans off the floor, buttoning them into place before shoving the Glock into the waistband at the small of my back.
“I’ll be right there,” I called, listening for the sound of him walking back down the hall.
I sighed and looked down at my chest. All of the wounds there had healed and scarred over. I knew that wasn’t a good sign, but other than the rapid healing, I hadn’t had any strange side effects since the fight with Skip, so I had no idea what it meant.
Dad was sitting on the couch when I finally walked out into the living room. I perched myself on the arm of a chair across from him and waited for him to start talking.
“Sorry to barge in on you,” he said, without looking up at me. “I tried to call you, but your cell went straight to voicemail.”
“Yeah, I don’t have a charger here. Sorry.”
“It’s fine. I’m just glad you were home.” He looked up at me then, and for the first time, I thought he looked old. He had dark circles under his eyes and more wrinkles than I remembered him having a few days ago.
“What’s going on?” Whether he was doing it on purpose or not, I don’t know, but he was scaring me.
“We got back your last test results this morning. You’re positive for lycanthropy.”
I sighed. It was upsetting, but I wasn’t really surprised. I’d known the rapid healing was a bad sign, and I had been attacked by Skip while he’d been partially changed. It made sense that I would be infected, but I didn’t know what to say.
“The Army notified the feds this morning, and you’ll get notification of your job termination soon.”
“Fuck!” I stood up and started pacing the room. “What the hell am I going to do now? This is the only thing I’ve ever known. I’m a hunter.”
“Well, no, you’re not. You’re a monster, and they can’t keep you on the payroll.”
A monster? I turned and glared at him. “What’s wrong with you? You’re my father. Can’t you be even remotely supportive? Just one time, it would be nice if you would take my side.”
“Your side? I don’t understand your side, Mitch. I’ve never understood you or your life. You had everything—a career and a family who loved you—and you threw everything away for—” He stopped, looking away from me.
“For what Dad? I threw it away for what?”
“If you had just killed that vampire twink as you were told, none of this would have happened. You did this to yourself, and I won’t sit here and listen to you be a whiny bitch about it. You made your bed, and now, you and your faggot little vampire can lie in it together.”
There it was. The truth, finally. He hated what I was and always had. And now, I was a queer monster, and he could walk away guilt-free over it.
“Get out,” I growled at him. “Get the fuck out of here.”
He looked up at me again, opened his mouth as if he would say something, but thought better of it and walked to the elevator. I sank into the chair and listened to the door of the lift rattle into place.
“Mitch?”
I looked up to see Jarrod leaning against the wall by the hallway. His arms were crossed over his bare chest, and his hair stuck out in odd places. I smiled, realizing I would never be sorry that I had given up that life for this one. I would never regret having Jarrod in my life. My father could go to hell. I would be just fine.
I stood and walked over to him, pulling him into my arms and kissing his head. He ran his hands up my back, fingers playing in my hair while we stood there and held each other.
“Are you all right?” he finally asked after a minute.
“I don’t know.” I sighed. “How much did you hear?”
“I walked in just in time to hear him call me a ‘faggot little vampire’.”
“Sorry about that.”
“Hey.” He grabbed my chin and made me meet his eyes. “Do not ever apologize for him. I have been called worse, and I don’t give a fuck what he thinks of me anyway. You love me. That’s all I need.”
I smiled weakly and kissed the tip of his nose. We walked to the couch, and I took both of his hands in mine.
“He actually didn’t come over just to insult us. He wanted to let me know that my blood tests came back positive for lycanthropy.”
Jarrod gave me a soft smile, but there was no surprise on his face. Apparently, he had figured it would happen, too.
“Are you okay?”
“Not really,” I admitted. “I’m going to lose my job. I’m going to be a werewolf. No, I can’t say this is one of my best days ever.”
“That wasn’t what I meant.” He sighed. “I don’t know what I meant. I’m sorry, I don’t want to upset you more. I just don’t know what to say. I haven’t been human in a long time. I don’t remember what it was like when I found out I’d become a vampire.”
“Well, finding out you’re a werewolf isn’t too much fun.”
“Do you even know what it’s going to be like? Have you ever met a werewolf you haven’t killed?”
Our voices were rising, but I was too upset to be the one who ended the conversation before it became a full blown fight. I wanted to fight. Fighting I understood.
“No. I’ve been killing monsters for ten years. Sorry, I don’t tend to have conversations with them before I shoot them.”
Jarrod wrenched his hands from mine and jumped to his feet. “You have to stop referring to us as monsters, Mitch. You’re one, too. Since I seem to be the only person around who’s still on your side, attacking me probably isn’t your best course of action.”
Great, just fucking perfect. “You know what? I don’t fucking need this right now, Jarrod. I’m not trying to offend you, but I just found out my life is over. Perhaps you could try to be a little more understanding.”
“Understanding? Your life isn’t over. It’s just going to be different. And if you don’t realize that soon, you’ll have even bigger issues to deal with. Like
being alone and miserable.”
He turned and walked down the hall, slamming the bedroom door behind him.
“Fuck!” I screamed.
I found my jacket lying over a kitchen chair and was relieved my car keys were in the pocket. I threw on the jacket and ran down the emergency stairs to the street. I got behind the wheel of my car and squealed my tires as I drove away from the curb.
I drove to my apartment. I was relieved to be home. It was quiet and familiar there. I threw my keys on the table then walked down the hall to take a shower. I scrubbed at my skin under the hottest water I could get. If only, I could wash the day off of my body. As the water grew cold, I still felt like shit.
Someone was knocking on the front door when I walked out of my bedroom after getting dressed. I figured it was Jarrod, but I really wasn’t in the mood to talk to him just yet. I threw the door open prepared to start yelling but stepped back in surprise at the strange man standing there.
He was tall and thin with shaggy brown hair and bronze skin, and I had no idea who he was at first glance.
“Mitch?” he asked timidly.
“Can I help you?”
“My name is Christian. Jarrod asked me to stop by and check on you.”
“Well, you can tell Jarrod I’m fine, thanks.”
“I think we need to talk. Can I come in?”
I walked away from the door, leaving it open for him. He looked vaguely familiar, but I was too angry to place where I knew him from. If Jarrod had sent him, I was willing to assume he wasn’t going to attack me so I could at least let him come in.
“Jarrod tells me you got some…interesting news this morning.”
“Did he? What the hell business is it of yours? I don’t even know you.”
“No, but he does. And he cares about you and is really worried. He thought it might help if you actually talked to a werewolf before you started jumping to conclusions about being one.”
I turned and looked at him. He still stood by the door, inside but just barely. I suddenly realized he was in the band. I had seen him at the Heartstrings concert and in the photos that had landed on my desk a lifetime ago. Christian Jaquea, the drummer. The werewolf.
