He didn’t have to unlock the door, as he never locked it in the first place. Who was going to steal from him? He didn’t have anything and they all knew they were welcome to whatever he had anyway. There was no thievery amongst the less fortunate; Mickey himself made sure to only take from those who had extra to spare.
“Welcome to my humble abode,” he said, dryly. “Make yourself comfortable.”
Though apartment-style and apartment-sized, the interior resembled a house more than anything else. A crappy house, but a house all the same. None of the furniture matched. Everything was broken at one point and stuck back together again with glue, duct tape and love. The kitchen was nonexistent. Instead, a mini fridge and camp stove had been shoved up against the wall, along with a bucket half-full of water; nearby was a small shelf that seemed to double as both a bookcase and a cabinet upon which to store a small stack of dishes and cups. A short hallway, so short it might not be deserving of being called a hall, led back to a bedroom and an alcove for the bathroom.
It was home. Mickey kept it in the best shape that he could, although that was hardly difficult when he was out and on the move most days.
“This is kind of impressive,” Houston said, grudgingly, as though he didn’t want to admit it. “Highly illegal, all of it, but impressive.”
Mickey snorted. “Not everything comes from someone’s home, you know. I say if someone’s tossing out a futon that just needs a whole roll of duct tape to fix up, I’m grabbing it for myself. They didn’t want it, so now it’s mine.”
“It’s the city’s,” Houston explained, a patronizing edge to his voice. “The trash system...”
“And so what?” Heat rose up in his throat, sharpening in words in a forge of frustration. “So what if there are systems in place? The systems suck, Houston. You know they suck. The system is a closed loop with no openings for people like us. We’re under the system. We’re off in the corners of society where people pretend not to see us. They let their leftovers go rotten and then throw it in the trash. They cast aside valuable things and replace them like it’s nothing, as if a little wear and tear makes it useless. They think stains and cracks and imperfections are a reason to dispose of what they used to love! And it’s a shitty thing! Other people could use that! So if your precious system isn’t going to incorporate us, we’re going to incorporate ourselves!”
Breathing raggedly, shoulders heaving, Mickey spoke over Houston as the alpha tried to speak. “You were in an orphanage for eighteen years because that system passed right over you. It’s faulty. They all are.”
“Mickey...”
But, he couldn’t stop. The words kept tumbling from his lips like a train out of control, barreling off the tracks into territory he didn’t know. “There are so many people in this world that no one wants. There are so many people just pushed aside by everyone else. They think they’re worthless. They think they aren’t even deserving of trash! Where do you think they’re supposed to go?” His eyes stung with furious tears. “Beth—that girl wolf out there—was beaten and bullied her entire life because of how she talked. She was only ever told that kids will be kids. She learned that cruelty is part of life, that people with the wrong voices get talked over. And she accepted it. She was forced to. Until she ran away and came down here. And now she’s one of the damn most reliable workers I’ve ever seen! And that man who you think is nothing more than a rabbit, I bet you think he’s stupid. What the hell is he doing in a pack of wolves? He’s here because I let him in. Because no one else would. Because this is a world of predators and prey animals like him get literally eaten alive sometimes. Where’s the fairness in that?”
Frustration building to levels he couldn’t contain, Mickey did the one thing he could think of to vent some steam: he stomped his foot. A sputter of laughter burst from Houston’s lips at the gesture. Mickey knew it was stupid and girlish, but honestly it felt so good that he didn’t care. Struggling to get ahold of himself, he spread his arms and made a wide motion, encompassing all of the area in his mind. He didn’t mean just his apartment. He didn’t just mean all the buildings, or even the stores. He meant the society, the life built here in a place where it was least expected.
“This is where the fairness is,” he whispered. “Everyone is equal. No one gets left behind.”
Then, silence. He lifted his head and stared hard into Houston’s gray eyes, trying to match the other’s piercing sharpness.
The alpha didn’t look away. Mickey did. That was just the way things had to be. An alpha might not ever argue with an omega, but they certainly didn’t let omegas win when it came to intimidation. Still, he hated it. He could have held Houston’s gaze. He just wasn’t supposed to.
“So, this is your pack.”
Mickey nodded. “Yes.”
“And you’re the... leader?”
“No,” Mickey growled, softly. “That kind of shit is what got us down here in the first place. I’m not a leader. No one is. We all fend for ourselves, but we work together to do it. Some of us are in charge of certain things, but no one is in charge of everything.”
Houston growled in return. “So, what are you in charge of?”
“Making sure we have what we need,” he replied, simply. “Look, you’ve seen everything now. This is it. I’m not taking you anywhere else. Did you want to stay and bother me, or are you going to leave nicely?”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Houston snapped. “We have a lot more to talk about than just this. And I still have questions.”
Mickey shrugged. “Fine. Have it your way.”
Storming over to the couch, he flopped down on it and then watched beneath half-lidded eyes as the alpha took his sweet time with looking around and then wandering over to the other end of the couch. When he sat, the poor old piece of furniture gave a terrible groan and sagged dangerously beneath his weight.
“If you break my damn couch...”
“I’ll buy you a new one,” the cop said impatiently. “Tell me about you. I need to know how this got started, where you come in. How did you get down here?”
That was a story Mickey had only ever told one person, and they were gone now. He looked down at his hands, clenched tightly together in his lap. His knuckles were white with tension. If he had been a wolf, his fur would have stood on end. But he wasn’t a wolf right now. He was just a young man, vulnerable and small compared to the one sitting a few feet away. It had been so long since he felt that way, and it was all his fault for inviting this man in.
There was no choice involved though. Even as he sat there and pondered on where to begin, his soul strained toward Houston. Somehow, through some miserable slip of fate, they were bound together. He had to tell.
“Obviously, I’m gay,” he began.
Houston let out another of those sputters of laughter. “No shit? Surprise, I am, too!”
Very funny.
“The point is,” he said, stressing the words, “is that not everybody agrees with that. My pack sure as hell didn’t.”
Houston looked as though he wanted to interrupt, so Mickey paused and looked at him. “Sorry,” he said, not looking sorry at all. “It’s just that I can relate. The church accepted the fact that I was a shapeshifter, but not that I liked men.”
Mickey did have to admit, that sounded like it sucked. “They didn’t really like having a male omega anyway. My parents were always pushing at me, like I could magically turn around and become an alpha. But the moment they found out I was gay, that was it. They kicked me out for being a disgrace to the family name. But I was barely fourteen when it happened. Fourteen, out on the streets of New York. I should have died.
“Hell, I almost did. I think I was only out there for two hours before these big guys started harassing me. I’m pretty sure they were going to rape me once they found out I didn’t have any money. But they didn’t get a chance. From nowhere, this mangy old wolf leapt out and bit one in the throat. It didn’t kill the guy, but it sure as hell got them t
o go away.”
Mickey smiled as he recounted the memory. Old Tucker. Really old Tucker. The shifter had to have been pushing eighty-five when they met. He had more bare skin showing than he did fur, and what tufts were left had gone bleach-white with age. By all appearances, Tucker was a grungy mutt with a bad case of mange.
But he had turned into a lifesaver.
Instead of finishing what those other men started, Tucker swept Mickey away into the underground world he had come to know, and hate and love. He didn’t pry, didn’t ask for the story. All he did was provide for the omega as best as he could, showing him how everything worked down below. Mickey latched onto it and grew into the role at Tucker’s side, eventually taking his place completely when the wolf passed away a few years ago.
The pack had always been the same, more or less. Most of the folks underground were there to stay, although sometimes they came and went, or died, or moved on in life. The faces might change, but the situations never did. People who considered themselves alone in the world were often surprised to discover that their stories were not all that uncommon. Those who ran away of their own accord, the ones who were chased; those who lived their lives knowing at any moment they were going to wind up homeless, and the ones who never saw it coming; alphas who weren’t dominant enough, unwanted omegas, frightened prey animal shifters, the elderly, the disfigured or disabled or ill; abandoned children, or single parents. They all found their way beneath the surface eventually. When you hit rock bottom, where else was there to go but beneath it?
Mickey kept them fed as best as he could. He kept them warm. He kept them together. It was what he had been taught to do from his very first steps on the street, and he knew it would be the last thing he did. Like Tucker, he expected to die out here.
Finally, the story was told and he ran out of words again. Closing his eyes for a moment, he was startled by a gentle touch on his leg. Even more than that, he was startled by the fact that he didn’t want to pull away from it. Opening his eyes again, he saw Houston leaning over, heavy hand placed comfortingly on his knee.
“I’m sorry,” the alpha said, hoarsely. His overcast eyes glistened with moisture. “I’m sorry things happened that way for you. And I’m sorry you lost Tucker. He sounded like a good man.”
“He was crazy,” Mickey replied, trying to laugh through the sudden lump in his throat. His heart felt as heavy as Houston’s massive hand, pressing him ever deeper against the futon. “But I guess that’s what happens, you know? But he was good crazy. He had something that a lot of people don’t have. Some kind of spark.”
Houston repeated, “A spark?”
“A twinkle in his eye.” Damn, that sounded lame. “If you ever saw an elderly homeless guy run around in the street throwing snowballs, you’d know that I meant. Just... it’s like people who live out here end up making up for what they don’t have, somehow. That doesn’t make much sense, I know. I just know it’s the truth.”
Houston didn’t move his hand, and Mickey didn’t ask him to. As much as he sometimes craved touch, usually in the midst of his heat cycle, he never imagined that it would be like this. The fingers laying on the fabric of his old jeans were so warm that he could feel it even against his skin. The pressure was heavy, but not demanding. Instead, it seemed to be asking.
For only a moment, instinct took over for Mickey. Placing his hands down at either side of his hips, he scooted slightly toward Houston. The hand on his knee slid slightly higher, rubbing a few inches up his thigh. Breath caught in his throat, and the heat conjured up by the other’s touch seemed to climb even beyond that now, gathering into a coil at his groin. His heart pounded, blood pumping slightly faster now. Between his legs, his dick stirred to awareness.
But still, he didn’t move away.
Houston leaned forward, his face low. He looked right into Mickey’s eyes and murmured, “It must be hard for an omega.”
Locked into that gaze nearly as fiercely as before, Mickey found that this time he couldn’t have looked away if he tried. His dick continued to stir around and he knew that pretty soon he was going to have an obvious bulge. However, he found that he didn’t much care. Trembling, not quite sure what he was doing, he reached out and tentatively touched the back of Houston’s hand. Embers shivered up his whole arm.
“You have no idea,” he admitted. “I know it goes against my nature. There are definitely... threats.”
Houston’s eyes, which had gone hazy with lust, suddenly snapped back into focus. “A direct threat?”
Mickey blinked a little, feeling sluggish. He struggled to catch up to the turn in conversation. Once he did, he realized that he didn’t want to talk about that. He wanted to recapture the sparks, the warmth, the intensity of sitting next to the other man. The moment passed though. His straining dick suddenly went limp again, and he felt the corner of his mouth twist into a grimace. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
Could this get any worse? It was going so good there for a moment...
Unfortunately, things could always get worse. Houston gave a sudden grin, making Mickey’s stomach flip with nerves. “I have an idea. It’ll solve all your problems, Mickey.”
He really doubted that. Silence was best though. He said nothing and just watched the other quiver with apparent excitement at whatever solution he assumed he had. The wolf inside Mickey gave a little tremble, wanting to be as excited as the other, and it was agony to hold back on that.
“We’re mates, right?”
Oh, this might be even worse than I thought it was going to be.
Before Mickey had a chance to tell Houston to be quiet, to maybe save this moment between them, the alpha barreled ahead. “Right. We are. We can both feel it. I’m a dominant male, and a police officer. No one would dare mess with you and your pack if you’re under my protection.”
Slowly, Mickey stood and walked over to the door of his home. He was acutely aware of the alpha’s confused gaze on his back. Part of him hated it. The other part of him just hated Houston. How dare he walk in here... No, how dare he be led in here and then try to immediately take over? Despite everything Mickey just told him, Houston wanted to assert his dominance over people that fled here specifically to get away from that sort of thing.
“You’re an idiot,” Mickey said flatly. “Get out of here.”
Chapter Six
“I should have kept my big mouth shut,” Houston grumbled as he drove back to his own apartment. The window of his cruiser was down and he had one hand dangling out into the open air, cigarette burning and ash blowing behind the vehicle. His heart hurt in a way he couldn’t quite explain, remedied only by the temporary burn of harsh smoke filling his lungs. Damn. How stupid could he be? He should have stayed quiet and let the moment progress. He would be buried deep inside Mickey right now if he hadn’t insisted on yapping like an alpha who loved the sound of his own voice above all else. Now he was here, driving home with the unbearable reek of the sewer clinging to his clothes. His stomach felt sour and there was a bad taste in his mouth whenever he thought of his own stupidity.
He should have known that Mickey wouldn’t jump at the chance to be guided or dominated. Even if the omega said he wasn’t leading anyone, it was quite obvious from the way he spoke to the rabbit and the lisping wolf that they thought he was their leader. Either way, Mickey had been forced to gain a sort of confidence and self-respect in life that an omega didn’t often have. Houston should have respected that, but he was an idiot and screwed it all up.
Fuming to himself, he jammed the cigarette between his lips and pulled on it hard. Though it was only halfway burnt down and the long drag saw it to completion. Letting out a sigh filled with smoke, he tapped out the hot butt with a wet fingertip and then tossed it out the window to get another. He hardly smoked more than five a day, ten if it was a particularly stressful shift at work, but he had already powered through twelve just in this short ride back home.
And the relief was only temporary. Whenever he wasn�
�t smoking, whether he was breathing through raspy lungs or forced to focus on the light traffic or the stoplights, the misery slammed over his shoulders again and pulled at him. He knew this misery well. It often dragged at him in his youth, often fully submerging him. He should have been above facing it again by now.
Yeah, and I should have been above suggesting the presence of an alpha was going to fix the problems of a homeless pack. Damn.
The worst part was, he had been so close to having Mickey see that they weren’t so different from each other. In fact, they were quite similar. If only he’d held off on blurting out his grand idea, he could have told the omega that, even though he was a cop, he understood that things weren’t perfect. Being a cop made that knowledge even more profound actually. He saw the failures in the system every single day, as did Mickey. He could have even explained his pineapple analogy. Maybe it would have won him some laughter. Maybe Mickey would have scooted a little closer to him. Maybe they would have touched some more, or kissed. Maybe other things would have happened, as they inevitably did when a mated alpha and omega were in contact with one another.
Damn. He was so certain they were mated. These feelings he was having were unlike anything else he’d ever experienced in his entire life. Those small victories he’d won with Mickey earlier in the night were almost better than orgasms, and those few tentative touches... Even now, recalling them made his cock harden again.
He blew it. He blew everything. Something had to be wrong with him, didn’t there? After all, while these feelings were intense, they were nothing like the supernova of emotion he had been led to believe would happen. Other shifters described such grand realizations when they recalled meeting their own mates. Was he wrong then, or had the others been exaggerating?
Wild Ride: An M/M Shifter Mpreg Romance Bundle Page 21
