by Angela Foxxe
“I remember when I was a kid and my dad would do the first big yard rake of the fall to clean up all of the scattered leaves that had fallen. He would wait as long as he could until there were hardly any leaves left to fall, and he would round them all up on the ground into a massive pile. This pile would be like six feet high—I kid you not—and after he was done, he’d let me at it. I would jump off that big tree in our yard onto the top of that pile and roll down to the ground. Occasionally, I would sink into the middle of the pile and be buried in the leaves. Then I would have to tunnel my way out. I usually waited for a while, though, because it was so much fun to be in the middle of it, and I didn’t want to scatter the pile too much. At the end of the day, right before it got dark, Dad would rake the leaves back up into a pile again, and I’d do it all over the next day. This would go on for a few weeks until I got tired of it, and he would burn the leaves finally.”
Heather’s voice was full of warmth and nostalgia. It held memories of a great childhood. John had actually done something similar with the leaves in their yard, but not quite to the same extent. He longed for those happy days again. No matter how much he loved being an adult and he loved playing professional sports, nothing was ever as sweet as being kids who played just because they loved to play. They didn’t have to train, they didn’t have to worry about contracts or injuries, they didn’t have to worry about endorsements, fame, and cameras everywhere, and they didn’t have to worry about the whole world finding out you were failing to meet their expectations of you. It was such an innocent time; he supposed that most adults felt this to some extent, but when you were in the public eye, then you had this sort of thing thrust on you all the time.
A half hour later, they were glued to the television and watching the news. Mitchell Goldberg, who reminded John of Lex Luthor’s nerdy brother, and Kevin were all smiles and nonchalance in front of the camera. Kevin had always been smooth with an audience, and John actually felt he got off on it a bit. Kevin loved to be in the center of attention, and John was happy to let him.
“Ladies and gentleman, I want to thank you all for being here today. I will just make this short and simple so we can put this matter to rest. You’ve all seen the footage of my good friend and client John Wild that has surfaced online,” Kevin began. He paused right there and had a good chuckle. “Well, what can I say? It seems absurd to me that I feel the need to come on live television and live streaming to tell the world that this is obviously a hoax. There is so much cheap software out there right now that anyone with enough free time on their hands and a good imagination can easily create a video of anybody. It is getting to the point that video footage of crimes being committed will probably not be admissible in court in a few years because of this very thing.”
“So, you’re saying all of this is a huge hoax?” a reporter asked, interrupting Kevin. John could see the smoke practically coming out of Kevin’s ears for a split second. He doubted anyone else noticed, but most people didn’t know the man the way he did. He hated being interrupted when he was on a roll.
“Of course,” Kevin replied. “For anyone to even think remotely that it wasn’t a hoax and that it was somehow real is just preposterous. I would tell those people to lay off the horror movies and lay off the peyote.”
The crowd cheered and laughed. Only Kevin could get away with a joke like that on live television, John thought.
“Oh, wow. He’s good,” Heather said.
“Yeah, he’s just getting started,” John said.
Kevin continued, “The worst part of something like this is that it attracts the crazies. Yes, people, I’m talking to you. If anyone out there watching is really considering that John Wild is a werewolf and trying to track him down to kill him, then you need professional, psychiatric help. I would suggest you get yourself locked up before you hurt some poor person. Seriously, how can anyone buy this? If I sound angry, folks, it’s because I am. I have a million things to do, and holding a press conference to make sure that everyone knows my client is not a werewolf is about the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”
There were a few jeers and boos from the crowd. It was bound to happen; if you get enough people together, some of them were bound to be stupid, crazy, or both. It was the nature of the world.
“This has to work,” Heather said.
John smiled and nodded at her. He grabbed her hand in his and leaned back on the couch. It had been a long time since he had more or less lazed around for a day. Most of his days were packed with so much junk—even in the off season—that he felt like he was constantly behind on sleep. But he knew that he would not be young and famous forever. Although he could play ball indefinitely and he wasn’t going to age much, if ever again, he knew that people expected him to retire one day.
Keith kept the press conference rolling for a few more minutes while he fielded stupid questions about it all. As John watched him, he couldn’t help but feel uneasy. This was going to do great things to restore the damage that might have been done to his public image, but there were still a lot of psychos out there who were going to be gunning for him and wanting to kill him.
He had recently come to understand that there were real internet groups of people who were dedicated to finding and killing werewolves and vampires. They thought that these creatures were real, and they were hell bent on finding as many as they could. In reality, they were usually just targeting innocent people. It was only a matter of time before some of these people got seriously hurt or killed. Either the groups were going to stumble on a real monster that might kill them all just to keep their secret, or the groups were going to kill some innocent person who was not the least bit supernatural. That was one of his biggest fears. He just hoped his celebrity status and his wealth could protect him from something that could become very ugly.
After the news conference was over, Heather decided to make them both some lunch. Heather had phoned her boss earlier and told him that she had to go out of town for a few days on a family emergency. Her boss was luckily pretty cool and let her have a few days off, basically telling her to come back when she was able. John was impressed; he wondered if it was just the small town thing or if Heather was just that damn good at her job. He imagined it was both since Heather was so perfect at everything else she did.
The two of them hadn’t spoken about last night or the fact that they’d both said “I love you,” and John was fine with that. They had both said it, and he could tell that Heather had meant it as much as he had. Yet there was still that nagging voice in the back of his mind that she was just saying it because she’d been caught up in the moment. He quickly told the voice to shut the hell up. John wasn’t usually so indecisive or insecure, but when it came to Heather, he went a bit nuts.
Heather told her father to not come home, and she explained why. He was going to stay with his “girlfriend” for a bit until everything was taken care of. John had tried not to overhear the phone call between the two of them, but with his super hearing, it was often tough to turn it off, especially when Heather was right in the other room. She apparently didn’t care if he overheard or not.
Lunch consisted of tuna on toast with a tossed salad on the side. Even though it was the off season, John still liked to eat as healthy as he possibly could, and apparently, Heather was into healthy living as well. Her tight, toned body that he was always leering at was a testament to that. Just being near her was enough to make him ravenously horny. It was like his body craved her at all times.
Heather looked at him with a naughty look in her eyes as she finished her own lunch and noticed him looking at her. She ran her tongue over her lips slowly and seductively.
“Well, what should we do now?” Heather asked, feigning innocence.
John smiled.
It was on.
CHAPTER 14
John was awakened by his phone ringing on the nightstand beside the bed. He bolted almost upright in bed, expecting some horrible thing to be attacking him, but he quic
kly realized it was just his phone. He felt stupid as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and glanced at the caller ID. It was an unknown number, which meant it was probably bad news.
The time said it was a quarter after six, and it was still the same date. He and Heather had fallen asleep after their after-lunch lovemaking. They had tired each other out pretty good, and John was starting to wonder how soon it would be before Heather would be up and ready for another round.
He wasn’t sure if he should answer the phone or not. What if it turned out to be Tony Janks? It was certainly not beyond his capabilities to find John’s number, but did he even know John was in the picture? Surely, he had wondered who the guy helping Heather escape was, and it all boiled down to whether or not he was able to get a good look at him. With the speed at which they’d gotten out of there, John doubted it, but he was expecting the unexpected at this point.
He didn’t know anyone else who would be calling him with an unknown number. He decided to take a leap of faith and answer it. He didn’t want it waking Heather up anyway, but she seemed pretty out of it. Apparently, she was a deeper sleeper than even he was.
John took the phone into the hallway and answered it as he walked toward the kitchen, turning on lights. The house was becoming pitch dark as the sun went down. Normally he liked the dark, but there was something ominous about dwelling in the black after narrowly escaping an attempted murder on the woman he loved.
“Hello?” John said. His voice was groggy, and he had to clear his throat.
“Mr. Wild, how is it going?” The voice sounded familiar. The tone was condescending and arrogant. John had a damn good idea.
“Detective Peters,” John said.
“Correct you are. You’re getting good at this phone tag thing,” Peters said. John had no idea what he was talking about. This was the second time he’d spoken to the man on the phone, and both times Peters had called him. He had a feeling that Peters was the sort of jerk that thought everything he did was awesome when it was truthfully mediocre at best. The guy was a chump. And John was certain he probably had a small penis. Yep, definitely a small penis.
“What can I do for you?” John asked.
“Well, you can get your ass down to the station ASAP so we can book you as a suspect in Michelle Patton’s murder.”
“What the hell are you talking about? I didn’t have anything to do with that. You have no proof that I did,” John said.
“On the contrary,” Peters replied. “The DNA on the victim matched yours. That’s right. Remember when you had a cup of our fine gourmet toilet water coffee? Well, we got your DNA off the cup, and we matched it to the DNA on the body. Case solved. The only reason I’m calling your stupid ass is because you seemed to have vanished when I was pretty sure we told you not to leave town.”
“This’s not right. Someone is setting me up,” John said.
“Sure they are. Well, this is not some stupid YouTube video where someone wants the world to believe you are a werewolf, although it might explain how you killed the victim. This is a real-world murder case. You don’t want us to come looking for you. It tends to make the punishment more severe the further you get from cooperation.”
“This is wrong. I did not kill Michelle!” John said, but he knew his pleas were falling on deaf and stupid ears.
“Well, the evidence says you did. It’s up to the court to decide now. So, you can hop in your car and come to the station, or we can put out an APB manhunt and drag you in. You’ve been in the news enough lately; if you come in quietly, we can try to keep this low key for as long as possible. But if you make trouble, then you’re going down faster than my morning crap.”
John sighed heavily. He didn’t know what to do here. He needed to talk to Keith; he needed Keith to put his lawyer hat on and find some way to blow holes through this case these morons were putting together against him.
For now, he figured he had to play ball. Running away from this problem was only going to land him in more hot water, and he could not let that happen. But then again, he couldn’t leave Heather alone. She needed his protection. If he was locked up in jail, then there was no way for her to get that. He was going to have to stay hidden until Keith could put together a legal team that would make anything the cops had on him look silly.
“Okay,” John said. “I’ll be there in a few hours.”
“I’ll give you two hours since I’m such a nice dude,” Peters said. “But after that, we’re coming after you.”
John hung up and immediately called Keith. He told him what the cops had on him.
“Shit,” Keith said. “Someone is doing a damn good frame job on you.”
“I just can’t think of who it could be. I believe it’s another shifter. Somehow, Michelle’s recording of me landed in the worst hands possible, and that person shifted and killed her, somehow planting my DNA at the scene.”
“Sounds like it, but I’m not sure what part of that story sounds the craziest,” Keith said.
He was totally right. The whole thing sounded bizarre. John was freaking out a bit.
“Well, it’s the best I have so far,” John said. “Are you on your way here?”
“Yeah, I’m actually getting on the plane in about ten minutes. So I’ll be there in about four hours.”
“Great. I appreciate you coming,” John said.
“That’s what friends are for. In the meantime, I’ll put my thinking cap on and try to figure out who wants to do you in. Man, it seems to be coming at you at all sides suddenly.”
“Yeah, tell me about it.”
John ended the call and took a deep breath.
Now was the part where he woke Heather up to tell her this good news.
CHAPTER 15
“We can’t stay here,” Heather said.
“We don’t have a choice right now,” John replied.
The two of them were eating dinner. Heather had found a frozen stuffed crust pizza that she quickly popped in the oven. John figured that if he was ever going to splurge on his diet, then now was the damn time. The pizza tasted almost orgasmic as his body reached out to embrace the mix of fats, salt, and sugar that was being flooded into his body and washed down with several cold beers. He couldn’t really get drunk, but damn, did he love himself a few cold ones.
“You don’t think the cops will track you down here? What if they do? If you’re hiding from them, then they will really throw the book at you,” Heather said.
“Honey, they want to charge me with a brutal murder; you can’t get the book thrown harder at you than that.”
Heather laughed as she took a huge bite out of the pizza. John loved the way this woman could put away some food sometimes.
“You know what I mean,” Heather said. “Trust me when I tell you that Cincinnati cops can get pretty damn nasty when they think someone is jerking them around. My uncle Bob, from my mom’s side, is a huge case in point. He used to tell us how the cops would take away every single little privilege that they could from someone who wasn’t cooperating.”
“I’m not leaving you alone. We have to deal with this Tony Janks situation first. Then I can worry about myself,” John said.
“I hate that you’re a part of this, but I’m glad I have you. The stress of it all has been eating me alive for months. Has Keith said anything more about how to fix this issue? What about his guys he mentioned?”
“Well, Keith has a lot on his plate right now, and he’s working on everything as fast as he can. He’ll let me know. He’s probably going to work on that while he’s here.”
“Any idea who these guys are he supposedly knows who can help us?”
“No idea. And he won’t tell us anyway. It’s best for us not to know what is going on fully so that way we can never tell anything we don’t know.”
Heather sighed as she pushed herself away from the pizza. “I just feel like a sitting duck waiting around.”
“Me, too. The waiting can drive you nuts. I know you feel the same
way I do about it all.”
“What time is Keith going to be in?” Heather asked.
“He should be here any time, really,” John said. “I’m excited for him to get here. He has some crazy ideas and some really great resources. We can finally talk to him in person about everything that has been going on and see what we can do.”
“Have you checked the media coverage over the press conference from earlier?” Heather asked. “It doesn’t seem to be having much of an impact. There are still idiots all over social media who are bashing it as a hoax and also bashing you as being a genuine werewolf and keeping it a secret from everybody.”
John had to laugh. “People will never cease to amaze me,” he said grabbing another slice, slapping it on his plate, then grabbing another beer from the fridge.
“So, what about when this is all over?” Heather asked. “You know, if we… If we—”
“What? Survive?” John asked.
“Yeah,” Heather said solemnly. John realized it may have been a mistake to say it like that, but he was so tired of being stressed and worried about everything.
“Then we get on with our lives,” John said. “I can stop hiding from the public eye and go back to normal, or at least as normal as I’m able to be after all of this. But I think Keith is right, and eventually, this silliness will all blow over.”
Heather was silent for a moment. “I meant what about us, you and me.”
John realized his mistake. His mind was feeling a bit one track at the moment.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Of course,” John said. He grabbed her by the hand softly and held it as he looked into her eyes. His mind was racing with all of the things he wanted to blurt out all at once. If there was a time to truly tell her how he felt, that time was right now.
“Heather, I can’t stand the idea of being without you. The very thought of you not being in my life terrifies me to the very core of my being. I’m not sure how I ever let you go before. I have been going over this and over this in my head since we have rekindled what we once shared. I’m not sure how you feel, but I know that if I don’t say this now, then I might not say it later. It has to be now. I understand if you don’t feel quite the same, but I do want to be honest with you, and I want you to be honest with me. I want you. I don’t care about anything else because none of it really matters; none of it is really worth a damn without you.”
