With Caution

by J. L. Langley

  Jake had the urge to pull Remi into his lap and assure him it’d be okay, but instead he sat and listened. His heart ached for Remi. Given what he’d learned throughout the day, it shouldn’t come as such a shock the amount of control Remi’s father had over his life, but it did. And it pissed Jake off to no end. The idea of someone threatening his mate didn’t sit well with him.

  Remi’s eyes were watery, the scent of tears heavy in the air, but he didn’t cry. He laughed, almost evilly. “The son of a bitch even told me what I was going to do for a living. One night over dinner he said, ‘You need to fill out this application to the fire department, I already told the fire chief to be looking for it.’ He threw the application at me and asked Sterling, ‘What do you think about Remi being a fireman?’ I don’t know if it was a threat or not, but I didn’t even argue. Besides, Sterling seemed to think it was cool. Of course, most six-year-olds do, huh? They all want to be firemen, policemen or astronauts…or a sports star. At that age, I wanted to be the quarterback of the Dallas Cowboys.”

  “Ah, that explains your jersey number in high school. Roger Staubach, huh?”

  Remi grinned. “Yeah.”

  “You were damn good. You probably could have been the Cowboy’s quarterback, well a NFL quarterback at least. Tell me truthfully, how many colleges offered you football scholarships?”

  “Only two. The scouts were watching other players, not me.”

  Jake didn’t ask why Remi didn’t take them up on it or seek out a scholarship to a school of his choice, when it meant he could’ve escaped his father. He didn’t need to.

  Jake came to the sudden realization that Remi’s sexual orientation and getting him to accept being Jake’s mate, were not the only obstacles in the way. He needed to help Remi find a way to protect and care for Sterling while getting the threat of Remi’s abusive father out of their lives.

  Setting his beer on the table, Jake moved a bit closer to Remi. “What about your mother? Is she still around?”

  “Since I moved out, it seems like he beats Mom more. Sterling says it’s because she makes sure Dirk doesn’t go after him.” The tears Remi had been holding back dripped down his cheek. Turning his head toward the TV, which was now a blue screen, he rested his cheek on his knee. “She’s a lost cause. I’ve tried. I’ve tried so damn hard. She won’t leave. Says she loves him and he needs her. At first I thought she was scared, but now…” He dashed the tears away with his hand. “Now, I think he means more to her than we do. Sterling and I have always depended on each other. That’s how it’s been since he was born. If it weren’t for Sterling…” Remi raised his head, tears no longer on his cheeks, but his eyes were brimming with them. “I’d have never gotten out of there alive if not for Sterling. Now, I need to get him out too before something terrible happens.”

  Jake swallowed the lump in his throat at what Remi implied. The thought of Remi not being around twisted Jake’s insides in knots. Already, he saw a man he admired, even if Remi weren’t his mate. The fact that he was made him that much more special.

  Remi shook his head, and the tears ran down his cheeks. “I don’t know why she didn’t love us enough to leave. How could she choose him over her own kids? How can—? I should have taken him and run away a long time ago. This is my fault, I failed Sterl—”

  “Shh. No, you didn’t. Looks to me like you’re doing a damn good job of looking out for your little brother.” Jake touched his cheek, half expecting Remi to pull away. He didn’t. Running his hand over Remi’s face, Jake brushed away the tears. From day one, Remi’s smaller size made Jake want to protect him, but now the feelings were even stronger. “It isn’t your fault, Remi.”

  Remi leaned forward. His eyes shifted to wolf eyes as his head cocked. Finally, he closed his eyes.

  Fuck, if that wasn’t a turn-on Jake didn’t know what was. His own eyes changed, drawing a groan from him. Blood rushed south, right to his cock.

  Wrapping his hand around the back of Remi’s neck, Jake tugged him forward. The smell of arousal pierced his nose before his lips covered Remi’s. Jake didn’t mess around. He caught his mate’s chin in his other hand and pulled down as his tongue swooped into Remi’s mouth.

  Opening for him, Remi followed Jake’s lead. His tongue slid along Jake’s as his hands found their way to Jake’s shoulders.

  Jake ran his tongue over Remi’s teeth, feeling the extended canines, and his own reciprocated. He’d never lost control over his body—his eyes and teeth—like he did with Remi around. It was both frustrating and fascinating at the same time. He wanted Remi writhing beneath him, wanting to please Jake as much as Jake wanted to please him.

  His need to take over was so intense he was nearly shaking with it. He barely managed to suppress his more aggressive tendencies. Given Remi’s past, Jake didn’t want Remi feeling trapped.

  They ended up with Jake lying on the couch and Remi on top of him.

  Remi’s hard cock pressed into Jake’s hip and his dark hair fanned around them, concealing their faces.

  Grabbing two handfuls of his mate’s ass, Jake pressed against him, making sure Remi had no doubts that he was hard too.

  Remi moaned and thrust his hips. He turned his head, breaking their kiss and exposing his neck as he nuzzled his face against Jake’s shoulder.

  Oh fuck. Jake’s cock jerked, his hips bucking. The submissive action was almost his undoing. Turning Remi’s head further, he brushed his hair back and licked a long line over the slim column of his throat.

  Remi’s pulse thundered beneath his tongue, attesting to his arousal just as strongly as the erection pressed against Jake’s.

  Dragging one fang down Remi’s neck, Jake fought the urge to bite. He wanted to pin Remi still with his teeth and fuck him until neither of them could move. He didn’t dare.

  Remi shivered, spreading his legs, allowing Jake more access, and pressed his neck into Jake’s teeth.

  Oh fuck. It was too much. How could Jake resist such a sweet offer?

  Riiiing.

  Remi’s whole body stiffened.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck. Jake was either going to murder whoever was on the other end of the phone or buy them a fruit basket, he didn’t know which.

  Remi lifted his head. His eyes—still canine—widened and he pushed himself off of Jake. He opened his mouth to say something, his fangs still extended, and the phone rang again. Turning, he fled toward the kitchen.

  Saved by the bell. Groaning, Jake sat up and ran his hands down his face. His fangs mashed against the inside of his lip. Damn. What had he been thinking? He shouldn’t have taken things so far. As he adjusted himself, a movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. He looked in time to see Sterling’s dark head pop back down the hallway.

  Oh God! What had he done? Remi hung up the phone, feeling like his stomach was in his throat, and leaned forward on the counter. He rested his head between his forearms. Thank God his mom had called to make sure he had Sterling. What if the phone hadn’t rung?

  Remi rocked his forehead back and forth on the cool laminate, resisting the urge to bang his head into it a few times and knock some sense into himself. At the time, the fact that Jake was a man had never crossed Remi’s mind. It had felt like the most natural thing in the world to do. It had been a compulsion, a deep aching need, but now… Fuck. He’d wanted it. What the hell was wrong with him? He wasn’t gay…he couldn’t be.

  Shit. Was Jake gay? Or had Remi made him kiss back somehow?

  “Remi?”

  Remi raised his head and stood as Jake stepped into the kitchen. Jake cocked a brow, looking Remi up and down. “Everything okay?”

  Remi’s stomach plummeted under the scrutiny. He had to get Jake out of here so he could think. “Uh, yeah. It was just my mom calling to make sure I had Sterling.” How the hell was he going to explain his actions? Remi set the cordless phone down on the counter, knowing any excuse he offered was going to sound lame as hell, but he had to try. He wanted to just forget this
. “Listen, Jake, I’m so—”

  Jake shook his head. “Nothing to be sorry about.” He frowned and lifted his hand. For a brief moment Remi thought Jake was going to reach out to him, but Jake threaded his fingers through his hair and let out a deep breath. “You’ve had a hell of a day. I should probably go.”

  A jolt of disappointment—no, relief—rushed through Remi. Jake had just given him a way out. Discovering Sterling’s bruises had fried his brain. Yeah, that’s it. His kissing Jake was due to stress, and he was out of his mind with worry. A niggling in the back of his head said that wasn’t right, that he’d been attracted to Jake from the instant he’d met him, but Remi shook it off. It was anxiety, it had to be. “Yeah.”

  Chapter Four

  Matt Mahihkan barely let Jake get all the way in the office before he started hounding him. “Come on, Jake. Give me a chance. I’m good with a gun.”

  Jake growled and pushed past the pup. Matt was eighteen years old and dying to be something he considered cooler than the office manager he was.

  “No. You’re not getting a gun. You’re here to run the office. And for the hundredth time, we don’t shoot people.” Jake had had this same damn conversation every morning since hiring the kid.

  “Rhys shoots people,” Matt whispered and darted a glance toward Rhys’ office. He leaned against the doorframe between Jake’s office and the reception area.

  Jake sat and shuffled through the messages on his desk, trying his best to ignore the kid. The next time Rhys suggested they hire pack, he was going to fire the man, best friend or not. “Matt, go get me some coffee.”

  Matt threw his hands in the air, let out a long suffering sigh and stalked off.

  For the first time Jake noticed the pup’s clothes, a pale pink polo shirt with thin yellow stripes, a pair of khakis, pink socks and black leather loafers. Jake cocked his head and blinked, not sure he was seeing correctly.

  Rhys came around the corner with a coffee cup in hand, grumbling under his breath. “I haven’t shot anyone…this week.” He scowled, showing off the small scar on his forehead, and glanced back at Matt. Shaking his head, he continued into Jake’s office. His limp was more pronounced than usual. “We need to come up with a fucking dress code now?”

  “Apparently.” Jake knew better than to question the man about his leg, but he wondered what Rhys had done to make it act up. He resigned himself to keeping an eye on Rhys. If it seemed like the old injury was bothering Rhys too much, Jake would browbeat his friend into taking something for the pain.

  “Wait until I see Gadget. I’m going to give him all sorts of shit. Does he know his oldest boy is dressing like a fucking yuppie?” Setting his cup on Jake’s desk, Rhys eased into the chair opposite Jake. His leg was stiff enough that he ended up more or less falling into the seat. Picking his coffee back up, he took a sip. “You been up all night or something?”

  Jake shrugged. He’d tossed and turned all night but hell if he would tell Rhys. At around two in the morning he’d gotten up to do some work on a case, though he couldn’t think of anything but Remi’s blushing apology. Jake never should have let Remi off so easily, except it’d been hard not to when Remi had reeked of unease. The man had so much to deal with Jake hadn’t felt right about pressuring him. Now he was beginning to wonder if he’d made the right decision.

  Then there was Sterling ducking back around the corner. Had Sterling seen them kissing on the couch? How was Remi going to react when he found out what Sterling saw?

  Jake wavered between wanting the phone to ring and praying it wouldn’t. He was pretty sure Remi would try to act like the kiss hadn’t happened, and that was the last thing Jake wanted to do.

  “Hey, you still with me?” Rhys waved his hand back and forth.

  “Yeah, what’s up?”

  “I remembered where I had heard that name you mentioned last night.”

  “And?” Jake had called Rhys on his way home from Remi’s apartment and given him Remi’s dad’s name. He knew Rhys well enough to know if he had a name, he’d start investigating first thing in the morning. Rhys lived to solve crimes, chase bad guys and raise hell.

  Rhys nodded. “Lassiter is a fucking reservation cop. I came across him when I worked for the FBI. He’s a real ass.”

  Fuck. Jake sat back in his chair, stunned. Un-fucking-believable. Why hadn’t Remi told him his dad was a rez cop?

  “There was a murder out at the reservation about fifteen years ago. It was before I was in the agency but I’ve heard stories and I don’t doubt them from my own run-ins with the man.” Rhys took a drink, watching Jake over the brim of the cup.

  “Like what? What did you hear?”

  “Here’s your coffee.” Matt came in carrying Jake’s steaming cup. “I still don’t see why you won’t hire someone else to run the office and let me investigate. I’d be good at it.” He set Jake’s mug down, sloshing a little bit onto the desk. “Oops. Sorry.”

  Before Jake could roll his chair over and get the tissues off the bookcase to his right, Matt squeezed past Rhys and the desk and tripped over Rhys’ outstretched legs.

  “Watch it.” Rhys growled and his hand shot out, quick as lightning, catching the kid before he went down. Rhys didn’t even spill the contents of his mug.

  Damn, the man had amazing reflexes. Jake got up and grabbed the box of tissues.

  “Sorry, Rhys.” Matt darted a glance at Jake and back to Rhys. “Uh…”

  “It’s all right. Go—” Jake waved his hand around, “—do something.”

  Matt was a good kid, but the boy had two left feet. Especially in Rhys’ presence. The kid was terrified of Rhys. It amused Jake to no end. It shouldn’t, since lots of people were afraid of Rhys, but it seemed irrational. Rhys may be big, dark and intimidating, but the man did what he did very well because he honestly cared and wanted to help others.

  Jake blotted the mess up and tossed the tissue in the trash next to his desk.

  As soon as Matt left, closing the door behind him, Rhys grimaced and rubbed his bad thigh. His tanned face was a little pale.

  Jake raised a brow, asking without asking.

  “I’m fine.”

  Jake nodded. “You were telling me about Lassiter?”

  “That murder case went cold, but there were all sorts of things that didn’t add together. The asshole’s own kid got beaten badly. The kid was in ICU, internal bleeding, and a whole bunch of other shit. He was in critical condition. According to agents who worked the case, Lassiter was more pissed his son didn’t stand up for himself than he was worried. Didn’t even treat it like it was connected to the other boy’s death.”

  What? Jake growled, feeling like someone had slapped him. The scars on Remi’s back and legs. Jake had wondered what they were from, but he’d never— He’d assumed it was some sort of accident, but knowing Remi had nearly died…

  His jaw clenched and a chill raced up Jake’s spine. Nothing like that would ever happen to Remi again. Anyone who laid a hand on him would answer to Jake.

  “Jake, you okay? What are you pissed off about all of a sudden?”

  “No, I’m not fine.” He wanted to hit something, preferably Dirk Lassiter. “See what else you can dig up. I want to know everything about this fucker.”

  Rhys nodded. “I’ve already got a call in to my ex boss. He’s still with the FBI and he worked that case. What are you not telling me?”

  “Dirk Lassiter is Remi’s dad.”

  Rhys shook his head, letting out a long whistle.

  “Exactly. And that kid who nearly died is my mate.”

  * * *

  Is that Jake? It’s blac—no it’s not a Tahoe.

  “Yo, Remi. Hello? Throw the ball.” Sterling waved his arms back and forth over his head.

  Huh? Oh, right. Sterling. Remi tossed the ball, being careful not to overthrow it because they were in the empty lot behind Remi’s apartment. If Sterling missed, the football would end up in the street.

  Remi glanced beyond St
erling at the road, looking for a certain black SUV and hating himself for the weakness. He told himself it was because Jake was helping him and that he needed to apologize for last night, but he couldn’t deny the thought of seeing Jake was appealing. But then why wouldn’t it be? Jake was a great guy…a good friend.

  “Remi!”

  Remi looked up in time for the football to hit him right smack-dab in the middle of the forehead. Oww. His sunglasses fell off his nose with the impact. Staggering back a little, he rubbed his head with one hand and adjusted his shades with the other. Oh man, maybe Sterling had his heart set on the wrong position. If he threw that hard all the time—

  “Oh my God. Are you okay?” Sterling jogged toward him, already reaching for Remi’s head. “Let me see. Are you hurt?”

  “Cut it out. I’m fine.” Remi batted his brother’s hands away. “It was a good, hard throw.”

  Sterling groaned. “You have a big red spot in the middle of your forehead.”

  “I bet. Maybe you should play quarterback.”

  “What are you doing? I thought we were going to play ball.”

  “We are playing ball.” Was that a—nope, it was a minivan.

  “Since when did you start catching with your head?” Sterling stepped into his line of sight, cutting off the view of the road.

  “Don’t be a smartass.” He shoved Sterling’s shoulder lightly.

  Sterling shoved back. “What’s bugging you?” He grinned and arched a brow.

  “What?” Remi frowned.

  The kid’s smirk was downright evil. “Thinking about Jake?”

  “Wha—uh. Whata you mean?” Good God, when did Sterling start reading minds? How the fuck was Remi supposed to answer? “Why in the world would I be thinking about Jake?”

  “Other than the fact he’s a really great guy?”

  Ugh, like he needed a reminder. Remi cringed and picked up the ball, shaking his head. When he straightened, ball in hand, Sterling was beaming at him.